• Published 7th Sep 2014
  • 4,092 Views, 262 Comments

Pretence - Kapuchu



Octavia doesn't quite believe in coincidences, so when she first meets the DJ known as Vinyl Scratch and notices the uncanny resemblance between her and the famous violinist Melodia Allegrezza, she is determined to find out what the connection is.

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Chapter 11 - Confrontation

“What colour are they?” Vinyl asked, smiling down at Octavia. “Just to be certain,”

Octavia, having never let her gaze waver, raised a hoof as if to cup Vinyl’s cheek, but evidently decided against it. Instead she lay back, a content look on her face.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I haven’t shown my eyes publicly to anyone but you and Lyra?” Vinyl asked, never letting her gaze waver. Now that she’d finally let Octavia see them, it wouldn’t do to try to hide them again.

“I suppose I would,” Octavia replied, blinking slowly. “But why?”

Vinyl scratched the back of her head, a thoughtful expression adorning her features. “I suppose,” she started, letting out a sigh, “because I’m a bit self conscious about it? You’ll often see variations of it such as cerise or magenta, but actual red? That’s very rare.”

Octavia nodded as best she could from her prone position, seeming thoughtful as well. She didn’t say anything for a while, not until Vinyl gently poked her foreleg, causing her to finally turn her attention back to the present. “You’re right,” she said. “Celestia has magenta eyes, and my aunt has cerise eyes, always bragged about them.” She rubbed her eyes, yawning. “But crimson like yours? I’ve never seen that.”

“I hope you don’t think less of me for it,” Vinyl continued after a short bout of silence, “Hiding my eye colour that is.”

A snort and a tired chuckle was the response she received, accompanied by a strange look from the bedridden mare. “Now you’re just being silly, Vinyl. No one could fault you for that. It’s just something you chose to do, and it didn’t, and still doesn’t, harm anyone.”

“Unless I’m like that laser-eye guy from the new comic book series that went out last year.”

“Unless you’re like that guy, yes,” Octavia replied with an eyeroll. “In which case I’d be pile of ashes.”

“Leave it to the sick and injured ones to make the macabre jokes,” Vinyl grumbled half-heartedly. She figured it was just an attempt to lighten the mood, or at the very least make light of what had happened the previous evening. But it’s not exactly helping.

“Are you okay, Vinyl?” Octavia inquired after a short while, breaking the silence that had spread between them. “You don’t look good.”

Clenching her eyes tight, Vinyl let out a breath and forced her body to relax; shoulders sagging. “I’m… not. Yesterday night scared me, and now you’re making jokes about it. Well, you were earlier when I had just arrived, but it just feels off, y’know? I half expected you to be haunted by what had happened, moaning about the fact that we had been caught in the first place.”

The smile she was met with was scarier than anything Vinyl could have expected. It wasn’t maniacal or sadistic, or anything else that could be misconstrued as thinking of the previous night’s events as good. No. It was a sad, and understanding, smile. “It’s not that I don’t think what happened was bad, Vinyl, please don’t think that. It’s just that it’s not the worst thing I’ve experienced, you could say. I’m not making light of it, Vinyl, I’m just not as shaken by it as one would expect.”

A sense of horror and dread rose within Vinyl with each word Octavia said, ever growing until she sat with an expression of equal parts anger and pain. Something worse than being nearly raped and killed? It was painful just thinking about it, and near rage inducing to think that someone could have done something so horrible. She sat with wide eyes and mouth open, tears almost welling in her eyes.

“W-What? Who?” Her eyes fell to her own hooves and, in a small voice, she added, “why?” She was brought out of her stupor by Octavia’s hoof touching her shoulder, causing her to look up. This time she was met with a comforting smile, albeit surrounded withby a sense of sadness.

“We all have our secrets, Vinyl. This one… Maybe some day, but not today.”

“You sure?” Vinyl asked, caught between hopefulness and fear. If it was big enough to keep a secret, then she wanted to help.

“No,” she said, closing her eyes, “I don’t. Or rather, I can’t. Just trust me on this one.”

A near damning amount of curiosity warred with the need to obey Octavia’s request. As much as she wanted to, Vinyl couldn’t bring herself to pry. Not only would it be rude and insensitive, but almost cruel in its own way. If it had hurt her to the point where she refused to even talk about it… Vinyl shuddered, a chill coming over her. No, she decided, she wouldn’t pry. If Octavia didn’t want her to know then she wouldn’t risk ruining their still budding friendship just to sate her curiosity.

“I promise,” she said at length, her promise allowing a small amount of happiness to creep into her expression. Octavia want to look at her again, a ghost of a smile tugging at the her lips. “I won’t pry. If you want to tell me at some point, I’ll be here. But until then, I’ll leave the matter alone.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Anytime,” Vinyl quietly said, leaning down to give Octavia an affectionate, if careful, nuzzle.

Octavia returned it as best she could, but was forced to lean back into the pillow shortly after. She let out a heavy sigh, eyes closed, and looked almost asleep for a while. It wasn’t until Vinyl gently called out to her that she opened her eyes, giving the other a wan smile.

“Tired?” The unicorn asked.

A yawn interrupted Octavia’s attempted reply, so she nodded instead. “Yes.” She looked towards Vinyl, blinking. “I’m glad you chose to visit me, but I would like to sleep some more if that’s okay with you.”

Nodding, Vinyl stepped back from the bed, giving the room one last look before she headed for the door. Before she was gone entirely, however, she shot one last look over her shoulder, asking, “Anything you need before I head out?”

“No thank you. I just need to sleep.”

And then, with a wave, she closed the door behind her. Before she would jump back into her bed and sleep everything off—the lingering soreness from her bruises especially—she wanted to get something to drink first. The quarter-spherical communal room came to mind just as it came into view. Vinyl immediately headed towards it, taking care to remember to use her hooves to pour the water, and carry the plastic cup between her teeth.

Wiggling her way into one of the plush covered chairs, she let out a sigh and took a sip of the water. Looking out the window she could see the sun approaching its zenith, yet still being a ways off. She would estimate to time to be around nine O’clock, meaning she had spent at least an hour in Octavia’s room, probably more. Well, not like it mattered. She had assured herself that Octavia was well, or about as well as one could expect given the circumstances, but it was enough to satisfy Vinyl for the time being.

Setting the cup on the table, Vinyl snatched an apple from one of the trays, contentedly munching on it until nothing but the core was left. Throwing both it and the empty plastic cup into the trashcan, Vinyl headed down to her own room, so deep in thought that she didn’t notice the mare standing outside her room before she almost bumped into her.

“Vinyl!” Lyra exclaimed, relieved. Her entire body sagged in much the same way, losing some of the pent-up fear and panic. “I only just arrived, but you weren’t in your room. I didn’t hear about it until I was called by your parents.”

Though the exclamation and subsequent, albeit short, barrage of information stunned Vinyl at first, she managed to come out the other side alive. “Don’t worry, Lyra. I’m fine.” She turned to the door, pushed it open, and headed in. “I was visiting Octavia, she’s on the floor above this one, room 16 if you want to visit her, too.”

Lyra nodded, looking as if she mentally wrote down a post-it note to remind herself of it later. “How is she?” She asked a short while later, when Vinyl had managed to climb up into her bed.

“Not good, I don’t think, but she’ll make it.” The look on her face must have been a sad and worried one, for Lyra did not looked convinced. It was only for so long that Vinyl could endure that look. “Okay, she’s… fine, I think? She says she’s fine, but the way she looked… I can only imagine how painful it must’ve been for her. And not only that, but she said that it wasn’t the worst she’s ever been through.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m worried, Lyra. A lot. I don’t want to think about what shit it was she went through to make this ‘not so bad’, but at the same time I can’t stop!” She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. Then asked in a quieter voice, “Is it bad of me for wanting to find out even when I promised not to pry? Even if the reason for that is because I just want to help. If I even can.”

Vinyl met Lyra’s golden gaze in silence, her lips pressed thin and ears wilted. The look of disapproval on her friend’s face said more than words could. It wasn’t the fact that Lyra seemed dissatisfied with something that made Vinyl squirm, but the fact that she looked far more like a mother about to scold her child than a friend disapproving of something.

She look exactly like her own mother would have.

Silence reigned as Vinyl fought to not avert her eyes, Lyra calmly meeting the gaze as her disapproval melted away to a far amicable expression. It still wasn’t uplifting.

In the end, Vinyl could no more stand the impromptu staring contest and, straightening up, asked, “What?” Her voice was far from as confident as she would have liked, but it looked to be enough for the other unicorn.

“You’re rushing to conclusions,” Lyra replied, finally sitting down beside the bed. “You said you promised not to pry?” Blue hair bobbed as Vinyl nodded. “So don’t. Octavia doesn’t seem to worry about it, so you shouldn’t either. And even if she doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t mean it’s still a problem.”

She was forced to agree. She had promised not to pry, and so couldn’t help. If Octavia wasn’t going to talk about it, then… “I trust her.”

Lyra tilted her head slightly, a look of confusion washing over her face. “You trust her? What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean that I trust her to be able to make the decisions that are best for her. If she is no longer haunted by whatever happened, then I will trust her to have gotten past it. Does that make sense?”

A thoughtful look replaced the confusion, Lyra’s hoof rising as if she was about to object. She shook her head, dropping the hoof. “No, you’re right. It does make sense.” She stepped closer until her chest pressed against the edge of the bed, her eyes roving over Vinyl as if analyzing every inch of her body. “But what about you?” She asked, rising up to stare intently at the caste-like material surrounding Vinyl’s horn. It had hardened slightly, becoming solid but not much more so than it could be cracked by tapping it against something. “You don’t look too worse for wear, but—”

“I’m fine,” Vinyl interrupted, sounding exasperated. “I’m just magic exhausted and a bit bruised. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Lyra was not convinced. “Percentage?” She demanded, golden eyes unflinching. When Vinyl didn’t answer, her lips once again a thin line, she poked her hard in the side which elicited a yelp of pain. “Percentage?” She asked once more in a voice that brooked no argument.

Much as she had wanted to, Vinyl couldn’t deny her. Lyra had been a friend for years, and had constantly been the one to worry about her whenever she got reckless and used too much magic on the light shows or other. She opened her mouth, preparing to speak… She’s going to kill me, Vinyl thought, grimacing.

“Vinyl.”

Groaning, she resigned herself to her inevitable fate. “It was… zero point five percent.” She quickly clenched her eyes shut and forced her ears down in preparation for the expected tirade.

Silence.

Slowly Vinyl let her eyes open and ears stand up again, peeking out at Lyra from underneath her lashes. She was met not with angry looks or disappointed frowns, nor with harsh words that she was reckless or that she had almost crippled herself for life. No, she was met with a look of surprise.

“How?” She asked breathlessly. “At ten percent it starts to hurt, at five most ponies are said to faint from the pain!” Her eyes flicked up to Vinyl’s coated horn, then back, concern now evident in every facet of her expression. “The nerves?”

“I was lucky,” Vinyl breathed, falling back into her pillow. Lyra was saying about the same the nurse had, but it was only now that her friend pointed it out that she realised just how bad it had been, despite the doctor and nurse telling her that she looked more like someone coming in from a battlefield. “Some damaged, but none severed.” She pointed at her forehead. “Hence the rubber-horn.”

“I reached Exhaustion once, too,” Lyra commented. She had let her head rest on the pillow, staring at the bland patterns of blue and white on the linen. “It felt like someone was hitting my skull from the inside again and again, and that was only at about nine percent.” She sounded melancholic as she spoke. “What it would have felt like to you.”

It would have been a flat attempt at consolation regardless of the person or the situation, but nevertheless Vinyl reached out to gently pat Lyra on the shoulder, rubbing her hoof up and down gently as she could. “Don’t worry about it.” She offered a smile. “The stuff on my horn acts as an anesthetic. It’s still a little sore, and I can’t use even the tiniest amount of telekinesis for another three days, but I’m managing.”

It helped, at least a little bit. Lyra seemed smitten by Vinyl’s assurances, although there were still lingering shreds of worry in her eyes. Time, however, should work its own magic and dispel those, too. The mint green unicorn nodded after a while, trying a tentative smile. “I believe you,” she finally said while raising her head off of the bed. “You’re a big filly, after all, and can take care of yourself.”

“You better.” Vinyl offered a small grin before letting it fall. “But… yeah. I’m just a bit worried, y’know? It’s not a very comforting thing to hear the morning after you’ve both been assaulted.”

“I getcha.” Lyra, having climbed up into the bed, wrapped one leg across Vinyl’s shoulders, pulling her a little closer. “But there’s something else I’ve meant to talk to you about for, oh, about five minutes now?” That earned the lyrist a quizzical look.

“And what exactly is that?” Vinyl inquired, sounding skeptical.

Lyra smiled in way that could only be described as impish, and not unlike the way Discord did as well. It, however, was only temporary, as the way it quickly faded told Vinyl that it wasn’t just a joking matter, but something more serious.

“It’s the way you’ve been talking about Octavia, really. You’re very new friends, so to speak, and you’re already talking about ‘helping’ her with her issues, whatever they may be. You’re a good friend, Vinyl, someone with occasional moments of altruism, but this goes beyond that. This isn’t just you being a good friend, is it?”

She didn’t reply immediately, for how could she? She had just reacted in the way she felt was the most natural; instinctively. Octavia was hurt, so she was worried she blamed her, and when she’d said that it wasn’t the worst she’d been through, it was only natural to want to help with that, too, right? It wasn’t wrong, after all, to want to be the kind of pony others could depend on. She said as much, which only made Lyra shake her head amusedly.

“Did you ever think that, whatever happened to her back then, was just another accident?” Lyra asked, receiving a grunt from the DJ. “Vinyl, I’m gonna ask you something here, and I expect you to be honest with me.”

“I will, I guess. What’re you gonna ask me?”

Drawing in a breath, and letting it out, Lyra seemed to compose herself before, finally, asking. “What do you honestly think of Octavia?”

“What do I think?” A simple question, really. What did she think of Octavia? She was kind, pretty, and willing to put herself in harm’s way for the sake of others. It didn’t take long for Vinyl to know the answer, at which point she said, “She’s a nice pony, a good friend.” She shrugged. “That’s really all there is to it, I guess.”

Once more, Lyra shook her head, though this time it wasn’t out of amusement. “I don’t think you’re being entirely honest here, Vinyl.” She removed her arm from across Vinyl’s shoulders, position herself so that she faced her as opposed to sitting beside her. “Let’s face it, you’re not exactly a social butterfly, right? In spite of your fame and club-gigs, you aren’t very good around other ponies. Sure, you can talk to them and have pleasant conversations, and even convince others that you’re truly enjoying their company. But truth is, Vinyl, you don’t have all that many friends. Five, six true friends, perhaps, and several dozen acquaintances. And that’s not to mention how efficiently you avoid the media whenever they think that you’re Melodia. Again.”

Vinyl swallowed hard. Loathe as she was to admit it, Lyra was right. Her friend wasn’t done, however.

“And then Octavia shows up, doing exactly what so many other ponies have done before, and insisting that they think you’re Melodia. If there’s anything that makes you annoyed with people, it’s them thinking that you and her are the same person, long-lost twin sister, or something like that… But Octavia you don’t push away. You invite her to a concert with Melodia, and then you go home to dinner with her.” Lyra finally stopped to breathe, rubbing her forehead as if it would make everything make sense. She eventually sighed and grimaced, though she didn’t exactly looked displeased with Vinyl, there were hints of confusion and uncertainty, and perhaps hope?

“You’re too quick to jump to conclusions, Vinyl,” Lyra continued. “This isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you this insistent on helping someone despite not even knowing if what happened to them was a simple accident, nor wanting to spend so much time with them. So, tell me, Vinyl, what exactly do you think of Octavia?”

With every word Lyra had said, Vinyl seemed to have sunk deeper and deeper into her pillow. Oh, she knew that she had a crush on Octavia, but she’d been unaware of just how bad, or big, it was. She had assumed that it was just a matter of her being attracted to the cellist, and not so blinded by puppy love as to act very nearly irrational around her. It had taken Lyra pounding her with the truth for her to realise how strange she’d been acting, and she had to admit that she was thankful for it. At the very least, it could keep her from making any mistakes… hopefully.

Lyra was still waiting for Vinyl to answer the question, and the growing silence was slowly making her impatient, it having stretched to the point where she doubted that Vinyl had any intentions of even answering the question.

In the end, however, Lyra’s waning patience paid off. Vinyl let out a breath and, finally, answered. “She’s a good friend, as I said before, but that’s not all. She’s nice, pretty, and I actually like her. Not just as a friend, but more than that. I won’t claim I love her, but I certainly have a crush on her.”

For perhaps the first time that day, Lyra looked content, if not actually happy. Vinyl could only guess, but she somehow expected that the reason was her being honest.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She asked, returning to her previous sitting place beside Vinyl. “So you have your eyes set on that sweet little piece of ass, then. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“She’s a pony, Lyra, not a donkey,” Vinyl replied dryly, only belatedly realising what Lyra had meant. The snickering unicorn beside her certainly didn’t help matters. “Oh for the love of…”

Author's Note:

Right... this chapter is delayed by... a lot. 2 months? Fuck...

I've really got no excuses, except that the first version of this chapter sucked. Bad. So it was a complete re-write which as now been approved by my editors. But after that it was simply a matter of not getting my shit together and getting the chapter written.

So, anyway, here it is. I hope you all enjoy ^^