You've Been Acting Strange These Last Few Days

by sethbramwell

Part 1: Rehearsal

You've been acting strange the last few days

By Seth Bramwell

Part One

Play on. Let the music wash over you. Focus. The music swelled through the empty theater as Octavia Melody repeated the mantra in her head. There had to be a way to keep her mind where she was. Cello solo was coming, and this guest conductor had traveled all the way from Marescow to lend his hoof at conducting the Equestrian Orchestra for a command performance ordered by Princess Luna herself. His temper was almost as legendary as his skill, and she couldn’t blow it this time. She couldn’t. Tensing her hoof on the bow, she felt the cue coming, inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes. The music dropped to piano level… Go. The cello responded perfectly to the touch of her bow as she played through the piece she had rehearsed so many times in preparation for this moment. Violins join in… What? Octavia suddenly realized with horror that her fellow musicians were still silent. Her eyes remained closed as she focused. Had she simply mistimed the violins? Violins. Come on! What is everypony doing-

“Miss Melody!” came the angry voice. Octavia’s eyes opened as she realized everypony’s eyes were on her. All were surprised and confused, except for one pair of furious eyes. Octavia’s bow fell silent as she swallowed hard and looked to the conductor. “Miss Melody, what in the name of Celestia was that?”

“I- it was the cello solo. Did- did I make a mistake-“

All the other musicians tried desperately to focus their eyes elsewhere as the conductor’s eyes narrowed dangerously. With a deep breath in, he continued in a tone that began amazingly calm. “No, not at all, my dear. You played the solo perfectly.” The anger and annoyance the colt felt now bubbled to the surface as he spit out his next sentence. “The solo that comes twenty-eight measures LATER! Where is the solo that was written for THIS movement?” Octavia began to fumble for words desperately, but the seething conductor cut her off with his continued rant before she could form a complete sentence. “Ludwig Van Bithooven worked desperately to complete this masterpiece before he perished, and was gracious enough to give the beautiful cello not one but three solos. I think we owe it to his memory to get them in the correct order! Don’t you agree?”

Octavia’s cheeks flushed red. “Yes- yes, sir. Of course.” The mare replied with the shame of a school filly caught cheating.

“So very glad you concur.” The conductor spat before taking a deep breath. “All right, everypony. From the top. I trust there will be no mistiming this time.” The last statement was said with an acid tone as the temperamental colt eyed the orchestra’s top cellist. His horn glowed and magically raised the baton as the musicians, tired but unwilling to challenge the guest conductor, readied themselves for the tenth run through of the piece that day.

Octavia merely closed her eyes and tried to sink into the shadow of her cello in shame as she waited for her next cue.

The long rehearsal finally over, the conductor lowered his baton into a bag before addressing the orchestra as a whole. “Very well, everyone. I believe that will suffice for now. I certainly trust that you all will continue to practice in your own time. I am honored to be the guest conductor for this command performance, but I will not accept anything less than perfection! You are dismissed.” The colt turned, his head held high as he walked from the room avoiding all eye contact with the musicians under his guidance. Once the door closed, the seasoned musicians let out a relieved collective sigh. They had all been playing for years, honing their art to perfection, but few had encountered a conductor like this before. Some muttered about desperately needing a stiff drink as Octavia cased her cello with a frown. She was only dimly aware of the voice of her friend behind her.

“Don’t take it to heart, Octavia.” Pezzo Pizzicato said calmly. Octavia turned to face her fellow cellist, who was also tiredly placing her cello in its case.

“Pezzo, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I made such a foolish mistake-“

The pink pony merely smiled in response and interrupted her with a friendly tone. “Come on, Octavia. You really think you’re the only one rattled by having the Dmitry Ponyakov here? The colt is legend! The woodwinds were shaking so bad their pitch was warbling…”

“That’s not it.” Octavia said sadly as she looked to the floor.

Pezzo cocked her head with a worried look. “What is it, then?”

Octavia avoided her friend’s stare as she picked up her case. “I- I can’t talk about it, Pezzo. Not now. I’ll keep practicing, I won’t let you down again.”

“Oh- Okay…” Pezzo replied softly. “Anytime you need to talk-“

“I know.” Octavia replied, her voice uptight and under strict discipline. It was her usual tone when trying to focus. The grey mare walked proudly off the stage, carrying herself with a grace that never betrayed her frayed nerves as her compatriots envied her composure. She opened the door as Pezzo picked up her own case and looked after the first chair cellist with worry.

“Celestia watch over you.” She whispered as the door closed with an echoing thud.