Of Wubs and Men

by MoltenXKid

Timmy Trumpets

Author's Note:

A new Chapter. About time. That stupid author taking his sweet time. We should teach him a lesson...wait...I'm that author. Nevermind.

Anyway, I havent been up to writing in a while. Personal problems in stuff. But, this isn't the time or place for personal life. It's a place for pony fanfiction. So enjoy mates.

(Vinyl’s POV)

I awoke in the morning in a half daze as I usually do. It was fairly early in the morning, but I was past the point of falling back to sleep. The day before was pretty fun and all. Mason’s parents “unexpected” visit. I still couldn’t believe how nice they were. You don’t see cheerful ponies like that unless you were in Equestria. Ponies here…well…just weren’t always happy. Anyway, I decided to cook some breakfast for everypony. Since Telsa was still updating, I would have to do it manually. Just like at home.

I walked from my room towards the kitchen, yet stopped when I felt a draft from the vent. I decided to be decent and put on some panties and shorts. (These humans and all their clothes.) I exited my room a second time and walked to the kitchen. The mornings here were normal. Just like home. Quiet, peaceful, sunny, and filled with the vibrations of music from down below. Every morning, Mason went to his basement to create tunes. It was something I quickly had gotten used to. Plus, he had sound proofed it long ago after complaints from the neighbors. Yet, today seemed different. Underneath the electronic sound was something…off. I couldn’t quite place it, but I know I’ve heard it before.

Ignoring my stomach’s cry for food, I went investigating. I walked to the basement door which was pulsing to the music below. With my magic, I turned the knob. (After some practice, I finally fully connected to the magic of this world.) The full force of the music hit me. I trekked down carpeted stairs to the epicenter. After walking through the near empty basement, I rounded a corner to find Mason in his personal sound studio. Inside his recording room, he couldn’t hear the outside world or the music blaring from the speakers. His attention was set solely on his trumpet. I walked to the equipment, turned off the music, and turned on the mic from the inside to hear him play. Mason…wasn’t the best trumpet player, but he tried his best. From what I could tell, he had the rhythm right, and the notes were almost pitch perfect. Though, after a while a playing he hit a wrong note.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “It’s always that damn A-flat!” He laid the instrument down and put his head in his hands. He stayed in the position for a long time. It was then, I decided to speak up.

I pressed the mic button to speak, “If it’s any consolation, I thought it was beautiful. Plus, I hear once you get off the staff, things get tricky.”

“Huh…?! Vinyl! W-w-what are ya doing down here?!” Mason quickly began to pack his instrument and music, “I was just uh…seeing if I could create some trumpet samples…for an uh…news song?”

“Sure you were. Now tell me the whole truth of the trumpeter.”

Mason sighed before grabbing his case and walking from the recording room. From there, he sat down in front of the controls and offered me a seat. I sat down eager to hear his story.

“You know this isn’t much of a story? It’s small and insignificant.” He said.

“Just tell the story.”

He let out a small laugh before speaking, “A long time ago, after my drama/acting phase, I began making electronic music. Fast forward to about a year ago and my career was at its peak. It was then; someone told me that what I was making wasn’t music. ‘It was computer generated trash. Real music comes from instruments or voices, not machines.’ I took no offense to their words, but they did eat at me for some time. Beetoven…Mozart…they didn’t have computers to make music. So, I decided to learn an instrument. Ya know, just to have it under my belt. Though, as you can see, things haven’t been going to well.”

(Mason’s POV)

I finished my story about how I started playing the trumpet. In all honesty, I was hoping no one would find out. It was more of a personal goal than anything. Just prove to myself that I could learn an instrument was good enough for me. Good enough to prove that person wrong. In a way, I did feel better. Though, I’d feel a lot better if I could get past the A-flat.

Now, Vinyl sat there listening to my short story. She didn’t move or interrupt. Just listened. When I was done, she continued to sit there. I was going to speak up, yet I felt as if I should let her speak first. And, I was right.She took off her glasses; her scarlet eyes glaring holes into my very being. The atmosphere seemed to change as well. From cheerful and relaxed to completely serious. Almost as if I was her student, I sat up straight and waited for her to speak.

“Listen. You don’t need a fancy instrument or special training to make music. Music can be made from anything. Shit, hitting two rocks together can be considered music. You know why?” Vinyl stood up and rushed over to me. She grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Because music isn’t something you just create. Music…isn’t something that just poofs into existence. Music is something you feel. Music is something you nurture from the beginning to the end. Every musician, whether it be Mozart…whether it be Beethoven…whether it be Sapphire Shore…whether it be me or you. We put our very essence into the music we nurture. Now, if that person, who told you that what you created wasn’t music, couldn’t hear your essence in your song…then they didn’t deserve to listen to it.”

Vinyl sat back down in her seat across from me. I couldn’t believe what she had just said. In a way…she enlightened me. Of course I knew music was an outlet of expression, but…she saw it on another light. A light I could yet see, but needed to.

In an instant, she returned to her chill, laidback deposition. She began messing with buttons and switches on my control panel, but before I could stop her, my phone rang. I pulled it out my pocket to see my producer, Percy, calling. I hurried and answered the phone, hoping for good news.

“Mason! Buddy! How ya been?” I hear his loud, cheesy voice say.

“I’ve been fine,” I repond, “How’s the search for a collab partner?”

“About that…buddy…no one wants to do an electronic song collaboration. I told you it was a dead genre,” His voice went low and solemn, but quickly regained its usual cheerful tone, “I bet with your skills, you could jump into the synthetic music game and explode!!!”

“Percy, I told you I wouldn’t do it. That’s final.”

“Kid, reconsider…please. I was with you from the beginning and I like you. It would be a shame if someone like you fell through the cracks.”

I began to think on his words. Perhaps I was being stupid by not adapting to the new style. I could still make electronic music on the side…right? Before I could finish thinking, Vinyl used her magic to snatch my phone away and placed it against her ear.

“Look, Percy. Mason won’t fall through the cracks, alright?! He’s too good of an artist to let that happen. He’s gonna singlehoofedly revive the ‘dead’ genre. Do ya hear me?!”

“And who might you be?” Percy asked, intrigued and a little pissed and the female voice on the other end.

“Me? Just the number one DJ in Equestria- DJ Pon-3. Oh! And don’t worry about the collaboration partner. He’s got one right here!”

With that, Vinyl ended the call. I looked at her in disbelief. Talking to him like that. Was she smart…or just insane…I couldn’t tell anymore.

“Vinyl…”

“Trust me, bruh. I know what I was doing.” She tossed me my phone before heading towards the stairs, “I saw that look in your eyes. The look of uncertainty. You probably had the same look when the guy told you that your weren't making real music. You may make some great tunes…but you still got a lot to learn about essence.”

Comments

[The Literary Lord]

I think Vinyl's friendship will be good for Mason. Hopefully she can get him out of his funk. First comment!

[predatornc]

UPDATE!

[dyedquartz]

Too short

As my comment