• 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.

  • ...
16
 262
 4,092

Chapter 3 - Cellos and Recording Studios

There’s something to say about the sun. It gives life, ensures the survival of ponies, gryphons, plants and diamond dogs alike while asking for nothing in return. A benevolent entity the likes of which cannot be compared, save perhaps to the moon. But while the sun is an invaluable source of life—and occasional fridge raider—it is perhaps also the best sniper in existence, managing to always pass right through the tiniest cracks between the blinds, waking up the denizens of Equestria.

Yes, the sun is definitely a gift given unto the Equestrian lands, but it could also be an incredible annoyance, as a certain mare would testify to at this very moment. She reluctantly dragged herself out of bed, glaring balefully at the treacherous blinds which failed again and again to protect her from the life-giving light.

Octavia muttered something as she closed the blinds fully, wondering why the sun absolutely had to interrupt her sleep. She’d had one of those dreams again; of lying on a cloud with her parents beside her. She hadn’t seen them in a while, now that she thought about it—perhaps she should send a letter some time soon. It wouldn’t hurt to let them know how she was doing, after all, even if they probably kept track of her every move. At least when it came to what she was doing in the music industry.

Thinking about her parents reminded her of how her mother had used to play the violin once. She remembered thinking how it was such a beautiful instrument but, in her childish stubbornness, wanted to do something better—not to mention bigger—and went for the cello herself. Her then young mind back then had reasoned that if it looked like a violin, but was bigger, then it would be better than her mother’s instrument. A sound the likes of which she didn’t even want to remember had proven her very wrong back then. And if her own realisation hadn’t been enough, the fact that both her parents had visibly cringed while covering their ears was certainly enough of an indication that just because the instrument was bigger, didn’t mean that it was better.

Reading musical notes was one of the first things she taught me. Gruelling hours of what I had then called torture and useless knowledge… but it paid out, didn’t it? Octavia thought as she headed for the bathroom, grabbed the brush and started running it through her tail; long, charcoal strands quickly getting smoothed out. She quickly finished with her tail and moved onto her mane, grimacing at the tangles that would, undoubtedly, cause quite a bit of discomfort. I wonder if she’s still composing in her free time. Speaking of which, today’s the day when Vinyl and I would be meeting. A smile tugged at her lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what they would do. Aside from just talking about music.

Still, she continued, nose scrunching up at a particular stubborn tangle. I can’t help but wonder… Does she truly have no connection to Melodia? They look almost identical, save perhaps for the mane. I wish I could’ve seen her eyes; that would have given me a clue, at least.

She continued brushing her mane, making sure it was nice and tidy before she put the brush back in the small cabinet beside the bathroom sink, then headed towards the kitchen for some breakfast.

She settled for a few pieces of toast, one of them with jam. She’d never been much for the whole breakfast thing, finding it not all that important as you could always just wait until lunch to eat. Ever since she was small she had been living with the idea that working to build up a proper appetite before eating was the healthiest. Whether it truly was or not, she didn’t really care.

Having eaten her fill for the time being—to prevent her stomach from disturbing her when she was with Vinyl—she once again headed for the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing her face. Following that she headed for her room for her cello, a smile already on her face in anticipation of finally being reunited with her beloved instrument after an entire night of separation.

She found it in its case like always, and upon opening it she inspected it for any blemishes or damage, smiling as she found nothing; it was in pristine condition, as it had been ever since she got it. She had received it for her birthday some years prior, as a present for getting accepted into Canterlot university.

She ran a hoof along the strings of the instrument, humming lightly as she went over every detail and facet of the cello. Strings still taut, wood still polished to a shine. Her smile widened almost imperceptibly. I say we’re good to go.

She stood up again and glanced at the clock above her wall. 10:54. I better get going. She hoisted the cello up on her back and headed for the front door, grabbing a pair of saddlebags with her keys and a small pouch of bits first.

The light breeze caressing her face as she stepped out was a welcome change from the otherwise overpowering heat, which had haunted the streets of Canterlot the past several days. Personally she hadn’t minded that much, because even if it was certainly hot, the mountain winds flowing above and beneath Canterlot kept the city relatively chilled compared to what she had experienced in the countryside.

She smiled and started down the street. No, this was definitely preferable to the unrelenting sun she had sometimes been subject to outside of the city.

She was about halfway towards the club where she and Vinyl had agreed to meet when a voice called out to her. “Hey, Octavia!”

She turned to look, spotting Harpo; a harpist she often practiced with, on the other side of the street. He had his hoof raised in a wave which she returned, waiting politely as he crossed the street.

“Where are you headed?” He asked, falling into step beside her as she continued walking.

“I’m going to a club not far from here, I have an appointment there.”

“Appointment?” Harpo asked, eyebrows raised up under the fringes of his mane. “You’re going to play there? I didn’t know you started playing at clubs.”

Octavia rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not going to play there,” she said with small smile. “I’m going to meet a new friend. We agreed yesterday that we should meet up and try to play something together. Apparently she thinks that classical and modern music can be mixed together, and I’ll admit I’m a little curious as to how. And if it can, then how it will sound. It’ll prove interesting, though, don’t you think?”

Harpo looked thoughtful for a moment, eyes crossed, and turned away a little. “I’m not quite sure,” he finally said, glancing back at her before returning his focus to the paved walk in front of them. “I’m not saying it’s not possible, but I have a few doubts. At any rate, yes, I’d like to see—well, hear—what you come up with. It will be something new, that’s for sure.”

Octavia nodded but otherwise said nothing. They continued walking in silence for a while until they eventually neared the club where Octavia was to meet Vinyl. They stopped outside, Octavia turning her back to the entrance, facing Harpo.

“Well, this is it,” she said. “It was nice talking to you, but I’m afra—”

“Yo, Tavi!” Both Octavia and Harpo cringed as the doors were slammed open, the snow-white unicorn known as Vinyl Scratch stepping out with a confident swagger in her steps. “Good to see ya! I was hoping you’d show up a bit early. I have a fantastic idea for what we could do, and—” She stopped, catching the eyes of Harpo. “Hi! Didn’t see you there! Name’s Vinyl Scratch. You?” She extended a hoof in greeting.

“Hello to you, too,” he replied, extending a hoof of his own and shaking hers. “Say… don’t you look an awful lot like that one violinist, Melodia?”

As quickly as she had slammed the doors open, as quickly did her expression sour. Even with her purple lenses it was almost impossible to miss how her happy demeanor immediately plummeted. “If so much as one more pony asks if I am that damned Melodia, I will set whoever it is on fire!”

Taking a step back, Harpo quickly bowed his head, muttering apologies. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to offend! It’s just… Yeah. You’re probably aware of the resemblance, I take it?”

“Yeah, I am,” Vinyl muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “And you have no idea how annoying it is. You’d imagine it was fun to have small foals run to you for autographs because they think you’re some famous idol,” she let her hoof fall to the ground, “but it’s not. It’s actually kind of annoying. I far prefer signing autographs for the fans of my own gigs. That, at least, is because of what I did, and not what some stranger did. Also, not gonna set you on fire. Just a bit tiring with the constant questions, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know. Still… sorry.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“No worries,” she said, suddenly grinning again. “Anywho!” She turned to Octavia. “I’ve just about got everything set up. I see you got your cello, so what say you we get started?”

Harpo cleared his throat, getting the attention of both of them for a brief moment. “It seems you two have plans already, so I’ll be going.” She smiled and gave them both a respectful nod, then tuned and left.

Octavia returned his smile and waved at him as he left, then turned to speak to Vinyl. “I’m all for it, but… I thought we were going to your home to play?”

Vinyl raised an eyebrow behind her glasses, lips bent in a playful smile. “And here I thought you’d buy me dinner first.”

“I—What?” Octavia’s face was a mask of confusion as she spoke, and stayed as such for several moments before all of it collapsed. Her jaw fell, and her cheeks darkened as her pupils dilated. “What? No. No no no. Sorry, but that was not what I meant I just…” She stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened them again she did her best to give Vinyl a stern glare, but managing nothing more than just looking slightly flustered. “That wasn’t funny.”

Vinyl just chuckled. “Aw. Sure it was. Also, yeah, Lyra told me about you. Sorry if you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“It’s… alright. Though I can't help but notice that you seem rather calm about it.”

A giggle was all the response she got for the first few moments as Vinyl opened the doors to the club and made her way in, Octavia following. “Tavi. One thing you should know is that I don’t judge ponies. At least not at first. And that’s not to mention that I know you’re not somepony to just jump every mare they come across. Heck,” she shot the cellist a teasing grin across her shoulder, “if you were to jump me, I probably wouldn’t complain—You’re good looking.” Octavia blushed slightly and was about to reply when Vinyl followed up. “That, and I’m gay myself, so I definitely wouldn’t mind. Or Bi, actually.”

“Bisexual?”

“Yup! Mares or stallions. If you can satisfy me—emotionally, that is—I’m all yours.” She pushed open a door, heading inside with Octavia following close behind. “And here we are! The club’s own recording studio! Small though it may be.” She turned around, facing Octavia with a wide grin on her lips. “Now, shall we get started?”

Octavia took a quick look around, noting how the room wasn’t quite as big as she would have thought. Of course, there was a much larger room on the other side of a glass wall, in front of which stood a soundboard the likes of which Octavia had never seen before. To say that it took up one fourth of the room would not be an exaggeration, the length of it alone easily taking up two thirds of the glass-wall’s length alone, and at least half a metre of the rest of the room, leaving not a huge amount of room left for the chairs, drawers, and other small things to make the place comfortable. .

Next thing she took note of was the room on the other side of the glass itself. It was rather expansive, at least twice the size of the room they were currently in, and with enough room for an entire band to play in. A set of drums were already set up inside.

She gave the room one last cursory glance, violet eyes coming to rest on a door in the far end of the room. “What’s through there?” She asked, pointing a hoof at the door in question and causing Vinyl to turn and look.

“That’s how you get into the recording room itself,” she motioned towards the glass wall, “and also leads to a… I guess you could call it a supply closet. It’s where the spare instruments are kept. Sometimes things go wrong and whoever is scheduled to play breaks their instrument, so there are a couple spares in there if it should ever be needed.”

“Instruments?” Octavia’s eyebrows rose. “Isn’t this a club? I thought only DJ’s played at clubs.”

“They do,” Vinyl agreed, jumping up on a chair and sat down facing Octavia. “But sometimes there’s also business during the day, and in those times the bar isn’t a place for techno, dubstep, or whatever makes it way through the speakers. It only happens something like 3 days a week, but Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday are days when the club is open during the day hours.”

“I assume the club is much like a pub or bar, then, during the day hours? Food if you’re hungry, but also beer, pop, wine, et cetera?”

Vinyl shook her head. “Not quite. You can still only get stuff to drink, as there’s no kitchen here as far as I’m concerned. Instead there’s more beer than you can imagine those days. It’s usually old ponies coming to listen to country or some of the old classics like Ring of Fire. That’s why we have space instruments; for those days.”

“I guess that makes sense. No kitchen means no food.”

Octavia’s comment was awarded by Vinyl chuckling, eyes lighting up with mischief behind her purple lenses. “No shit sherlock. Kinda hard to cook when you don’t have a stove, eh?”

Vinyl’s comment, in turn, earned a grumble followed by a good-natured eye roll. “I was talking to myself.” This only earned another chuckle. “Having fun?” She asked, struggling to keep the DJ’s smile from infecting her.

“Yeah. I kinda am. Sorry if the teasing is getting on your nerves. I’ll try to hold in my reins if you want.” She paused, but before Octavia could say anything she clapped her hooves together and explained. “Anywho! We came here to play, didn’t we? You have your cello, so I assume you’re ready.” She motioned for the door in the far end. “Through the door and to your left. So whenever you’re ready, we can go about figuring out if our little experiment is a success.”

Octavia nodded and quickly made her way through the door and into the recording room. As soon as she entered sound simply disappeared. The only thing she could hear were her own hoof steps and breathing, the door she had closed behind her shutting off everything on the other side of the walls. It felt… surreal. Just seconds before she could hear Vinyl shuffling about, muttering to herself and pushing chairs out of the way, and now it was all gone. The only sounds were whatever what she made herself.

She walked towards the microphone hanging from the ceiling, putting her cello case down and picking up her cello. With practiced ease, she reared up on her hind legs, bow held in one hoof and the cello balanced against her.

On the other side of the glass wall, she could see Vinyl sitting behind the soundboard. She pushed a button and the crackling of a microphone could be heard, followed by the DJ’s voice.

“Alright, ‘Tavi. You ready? Just talk, I can hear you.”

“I’m ready,” she replied with little hesitation, subconsciously leaning a little closer to the microphone.

“Great! Now, let’s see…” On the other side of the glass wall, Vinyl let her magic come to life, hovering over a stack of papers and rummaged through them. She was silent for some time before she let out a quiet exclamation. “Right. I got it. Can you play Pachelbel's Canon in D Major? I’d like to hear that one first, see if I can come up with some good ideas for a remix or just use some of the samples.”

“I can. It’s rather famous and not that difficult, although far from easy.”

“Alright, then. We’re ready to start recording. Just play whenever you’re ready.” Vinyl gave her a grin from the other side of the wall, nodding her head and pressing what Octavia assumed must be the record button.

The piece started out slow, with long, deep notes reverberating through the chamber. Every note was heard perfectly, with no background noise to deafen or obstruct. A slow smile started to spread across Octavia’s lips, the music filling her with a certain kind of glee that she only ever felt during one of her performances. Despite the calming nature of the piece, she couldn’t help but add her own flair to the piece.

A few minutes later she drew the final note of the song, a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding going with it. She opened her eyes and met the bespectacled gaze of Vinyl, the unicorn nodding, brows furrowed in thought. Just as Octavia was about to ask what was next, Vinyl interrupted by pressing the speaker button.

“That was great, ‘Tavi, but I’d like a few bits redone if you don’t mind?”

Octavia grimaced slightly, only just now realising that she had become lost in the music. “Sorry,” she said, ears pressed against her skull. “I guess so… which bars do you want redone?”

Vinyl watched Octavia with a raised eyebrow, the mare having suddenly taken a turn towards timid. She heaved a small sigh, figuring that there wasn’t any need to make her feel like she had disappointed. “Nah. Don’t you worry,” she said, waving it off with a hoof. “Y’know what? I have enough for a remix already. So get on out here and we can go grab something to eat, if you want.”

The cellist bit her lip, glancing off to the side as if in search of some answer. She lifted her bow away from the strings, clutching it to her chest briefly before speaking again. “If it’s alright with you,” she began, “I’d rather we finish the Canon. I prefer to finish what I started.”

One eyebrow rose above the purple lenses as Vinyl tilted her head, gazing curiously at Octavia. “If you insist then I’m not gonna stop ya. The tape’s still rolling, by the way, so you can just begin whenever. Also, this time, could you play each bar two or three times? Starting with D Major, then A and G Major.”

“I can do that,” she replied, bringing the bow to the strings and, with her eyes closed, began anew, drawing out those beautiful notes once more. The smile came unbidden to her lips again, her entire body swaying lightly with the tune.

On the other side of the glass came another smile mirroring Octavia’s own. Vinyl watched as Octavia lost herself to the music again, though sticking to the plain notes this time. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anypony enjoy playing music that much.


Octavia carefully propped her cello case against the wall, a satisfied expression on her face from the past hour. Vinyl had asked her to play several different pieces, ranging from obscure classical pieces to lists of notes which didn’t fit together in a melody. She’d had to wonder how Vinyl knew some of the pieces she asked her to play, as even she hadn’t known all of them—something she was loathe to admit. Despite the small wound to her pride, she still enjoyed the overall experience. She’d never played in a completely isolated room like this one before, and being able to hear every note as sharp and crisp as it could be was an experience she wouldn’t soon forget.

The smile that had been on her lips ever since she played the first note was still present when she sat down on the chair opposite Vinyl. Vinyl returned the smile, flicking her head towards the soundboard.

“Whatcha think?” She asked.

“About what?” Octavia couldn’t help but ask.

Vinyl rolled her eyes, though it went unseen for Octavia. “The recording room, of course! It’s always special the first time around. What was it like for you? What’d you think?”

“It’s… strange. It feels as if you get cut off from the world, and everything else just doesn’t matter anymore.” She paused for a moment, thinking. When she spoke again her nose had scrunched up in something akin to distaste. “But even then, I can’t say that I like it. It lacks acoustics and it sounds… off, when I play something. Don’t get me wrong, being able to hear every note I play perfectly is extraordinary, but it doesn’t quite make up for the lack of... proper sound, I guess you could say—it feels constricting.”

“I get what you mean,” Vinyl replied, leaning back in her chair, nodding. “I’ve heard the same thing quite a few times when I’ve had other ponies in to record. But look on the bright side, ‘Tavi. Because you braved the suffering of the horrible acoustics in the recording room, we now have a ton of samples to use for remixes and so, so much more!”

Vinyl continued her rant; giving detailed encounters of Octavia’s dangerous fights against what she called the Notes and Chords of Tartarus, waving her front legs about as a storyteller would when describing the grand battles of old, over a bonfire.

It was with an unsure smile that Octavia watched Vinyl’s theatrical speech and leg-waving, finding more than a small amount of entertainment in the spectacle before her. In the end, she couldn’t quite stop the giggle that wanted out.

At the sound of those bell-like giggles, Vinyl stopped immediately and looked quizzically at the cellist. “What’s so funny?” She asked, head tilted to the side.

“Nothing, it’s just… you just looked like you were having fun and it—well—looked entertaining, too.”

“I think you’re making fun of me,” the unicorn stated, crossing her front legs and huffing, lower lip poking out in a pout. The pout did very little in the way of lessening Octavia’s mirth or wipe her smile away. Rather, she only seemed even more entertained as evident by her continued giggles.

“I’m not making fun of you, Vinyl. It’s just…” she paused, suddenly unsure of what to say. What did she think of Vinyl? She’d hardly even known the mare for twenty-four hours, and yet here she was bantering back and forth with her; chatting and joking as if they had been friends for months if not years prior to that day.

There was something about the DJ that she couldn’t quite place. She was kind and welcoming, a bit eccentric, but good through and through. Vinyl had, from the second that they had met, been open and friendly towards her. Not once had she caught sight of anything that might dub her as judgemental or anything of the like. She was just… Vinyl. It could not be described in any other way.

She finally shook her head, smiling faintly. “You’re just a special one, Vinyl. I haven’t ever met a pony such as you, and while I’m not making fun of you, I can’t deny that it’s rather entertaining to watch you act out whatever theatrics are on your mind like that.” Vinyl grinned faintly, but offered no reply. Octavia continued. “Speaking of theatrics, have you ever done any acting? Or, to broaden the question, what do you do in your spare time? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

An ivory hoof waved whatever hesitance Octavia had aside, swatting it away like some annoying fly. “It’s no problem, I don’t mind you asking. However.” At this, she straightened up in her chair, locking eyes with Octavia—presumably, as the shades made it difficult to know for certain—her face set in a more serious expression than before. “I’m not gonna just answer your questions,” her expression relaxed, becoming friendly again. “I expect you to answer some questions of my own. I think that sounds fair, don’t you?”

Octavia released a small sigh of relief, having for a moment feared that she had insulted Vinyl by posing more questions than she already had. She couldn’t really deny the fact that she had shared very little about herself, preferring to see if she could find out anything that would point her towards a possible link between Vinyl and Melodia. Childish though the thought was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something. Yes, she had spent some time with Vinyl now, and while she could see no obvious link between the both of them—Vinyl’s carefree personality being the most obvious reason for this—she still wasn’t ready to give up on it. Not yet, anyway.

“That’s fair,” Octavia agreed. “So… if I may, did you do any acting?”

“No, I didn’t. I did a little singing though… and please don’t ask me to sing. I sound horrible.”

“The singing lessons never did you much good, I take it?” The cellist asked, one eyebrow raised in a cheeky expression.

“Didn’t exactly have a tutor. My mother tried to teach me. That’s about it.” A grin then spread across her lips, revealing pearly whites. “And now, for my own question. How did you get in—” she was interrupted by her own stomach grumbling loudly. “Well… Dinner bell is ringing?” She said lamely, looking sheepishly down at herself.

“I think we perhaps should have gone for lunch when you suggested it earlier,” Octavia noted. “What do you say we continue this over a lunch somewhere? We could invite Lyra along if you want?”

Vinyl waved a hoof at her, her stomach having finally calmed down. “Nah, she’s probably busy anyway. Pretty sure she said something about a deadline for something, too.” She stood up from her chair, turning towards the door. “You coming?” She asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Octavia.

“I’m coming, but,” she glanced behind her, “what about my cello?”

“You leave it here if you want. I have a key so you don’t have to worry about it being stolen.”

Hesitant and worried glances passed between Vinyl and the cello, but eventually Octavia decided that it was probably good enough. “Alright, so long as we aren’t gone for too long, I guess I can let it stay here.” She turned away from the cello and towards the door, following Vinyl out.

Vinyl grinned and headed out, one hoof pumping the air. “And now, food!”

Author's Note:


Sorry this took so long :raritydespair:
Everything suddenly got really busy about a month ago, and my writing got stopped for ~2 weeks straight :/

I'll try to be faster next time. I promise!
Anyway, it's here now! I hope you like it! :twilightsmile: