Same Song, Second Verse

by Revenant Wings

Chapter 6 - A Night at the Theater

The knock came a few minutes early. Care Package stood there looking quite dapper in a blue collared shirt with his red mane swept back and a tie on. His coltfriend was a pale lavender pegasus stallion with a steel grey mane and a rainbow on his flank, wearing an almost matching set of clothes.

“Hello, Care Package and Spectrum,” Octavia said, addressing the pegasi.

“You ready to go?” Care Package said.

“Yeah.” Octavia picked up a small pouch of bits and her key and followed the two pegasi out the door and down to the main streets.

“So,” Care Package began, “what would you be doing if you weren’t coming with us?”

“I had a tennis lesson earlier today,” Octavia said. “I need to get active in a place like this. It moves too slow for me. Of course, I was worn out so I might have just curled up with a book and watched some old movies.”

“Sounds like a nice enough evening to me,” Care Package said. “Spectrum and I just watched ‘Breakfast at Tiffaneighs’ last night.”

“It was really nice actually,” Spectrum said. “I’m surprised how many of those movies are actually pretty interesting. He also got me to watch ‘Roman Holiday’ not long ago.”

“That’s the same leading actress as ‘Breakfast’, you know,” Octavia commented. “She’s excellent.”

“Yes she is,” Care Package said. “I admit, she is rather attractive.” He looked lovingly over at Spectrum. “Alas, no dice here.”

“I thank my lucky stars she isn’t here,” Spectrum said playfully. He turned to Octavia. “You have someone? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around with someone.”

“I got out of a relationship officially a month and a half ago and moved here only recently,” Octavia said. “I don’t think I’m ready for another one yet.”

“That’s fine,” Care Package said. “Come on; let’s get tickets.”

They stood in a very short line in front of a very small theater – Octavia guessed it could barely hold 500 ponies – colored in gold and a deep red that looked somewhat faded and needed a new coat of paint. Two ticket counters sat outside the main doors and were slowly handing through tickets.

Once the three had gotten their tickets, they stepped through the main double doors into a rather large lobby that covered the whole width of the building. Two different concession stands were inside, one at either end; one acted as a small bar with appetizers, and the other had the look of a Canterlot movie theater stand except it was a lot cleaner and she could smell freshly cooked corn, steamed vegetables, and hot buns stuffed with vegetables and cream in them.

Spectrum pranced over to the bar. “How about a glass while we wait for the doors to open?”

Care Package slowly trotted after him and Octavia followed close behind.

“You look like a mare who drinks wine on occasion,” Care Package said to Octavia. “You should try the local zinfandel made by Berry Punch.”

Octavia put a hoof to her mouth and gasped, but she was still smiling. “Now why’d you say that?”

“I guess I kind of assumed from you coming from Canterlot and all," he shrugged. He, too, was smiling. "I don’t know too many ponies from there and it all kind of seems high society to me.”

“It has its bad areas,” Octavia said. “Like any other big city. And, as much as I hate to indulge the stereotype, I do drink wine.”

Octavia ordered a glass as Care Package laughed and Spectrum brought over two glasses of a sparkling white wine in his wings. Pity these two were as taken; she might have half considered asking Care Package out, and Spectrum wasn’t too bad either.

Admittedly, they were cute together.

The three found a table and sipped and talked wine for a short while. During their conversation, Octavia thought she saw a pale blue horn over some of the heads of the crowd, but it almost as quickly disappeared. Around it had been a bright blue aura that seemed to be familiar, the color standing out amidst the hundreds of ponies and dozens of other unicorn horns. But, hard as she tried, she couldn't remember where she'd seen it.

When they had finished their wines, they noticed that a theater attendant was now standing in front of the door. They paid the tab and walked over to the door as it opened. The attendant checked and punched their tickets and they went inside.

The area was as small as Octavia thought it would be. Even so, there were almost three hundred seats at the bottom, requiring ponies to use a staircase to get down, and one hundred seats above where they were. Octavia, Care Package, and Spectrum went up a staircase to the top balcony and selected three seats towards the middle.

Octavia looked around. Two major lights were being controlled by unicorns sitting on the far edges of either side of the theater. The lights were pointed down and were dimmed heavily so that there was enough light to see by but not blinding. On stage the curtains were drawn back and Octavia could see through the dim lighting a baby grand piano, an upright bass, an electric guitar, a trumpet, and a saxophone. The guitar and the saxophone were close to one another. Otherwise a fairly respectable set-up and she wondered how many were in there.

Care Package seemed to read her thoughts. “There are five members with some training and knowledge in jazz and blues music,” he said, leaning over and whispering in her ear. “There are around eleven total members, I think; enough for a small orchestra.”

“Small indeed. I’d imagine there’s two woodwinds, two brass, a piano, percussion, and the rest strings?”

“I don’t know personally, but it’s a fair guess. Musically, they’re Ponyville’s main players in the industry. One’s even starting a blues album with their help.”

Octavia nodded. Blues was not as respected as jazz or classical in Canterlot, but she knew there were a fair amount of musicians, mostly from Baltimare looking for a break in a genre that hadn’t really been tapped into yet.

Soon the lights dimmed and the audience grew quiet. Octavia could see them move the lights into position on the screen and a group of shadowy figures come out onto the stage. There was the sound of a hoof tapping; Octavia remembered the move from her practices and counted in her head one… two… one two three four and the band started playing.

There were four of them up there playing a slow jazz tune. Octavia recognized none of them, though they played rather beautifully. They didn’t have any of the precision that the concert members in Canterlot had, though they all played easily and with free spirits, and the feeling was infectious. Octavia found herself tapping a hoof along with the beat as the night continued.

She remembered going to more sedate clubs and bars with her friends in the orchestra, where a four-piece band would play in a corner and provide the same type of music, offering a steady background to dozens of small conversations. Ponies would go out two-by-two in the middle of the floor and dance for a few minutes before retreating back to the safety of a table, the music weaving around and complimenting them rather than overpowering them. Octavia spent many evenings with Frederic, Noteworthy, Arpeggio, and others in the band at such clubs after recitals, having a glass of wine and a plate of celery sticks as they discussed the pieces, the reception, the small kinks.

Octavia missed those evenings. It seemed as though no jazz club existed in Ponyville, and she contemplated finding them afterwards, praising them for making it feel more like home, and ask if they wouldn't consider playing more often at more casual settings.

After three songs that lasted nearly fifteen minutes total, the band added a new member. A blue earth pony with a music note for a cutie mark came on stage, waving and smiling to the audience. It took a second for Octavia to realize who it was due to how far back she was seated, and when she realized it she broke out in a giddy grin.

“Hey, Noteworthy’s here!”

“You know him?” Care Package asked. “Noteworthy used to live here. He moved to Canterlot about seven years ago.”

Seven years ago… that would be about right. It would be in the middle of Octavia’s university days when a transfer student came in and started doing orchestra with her. He’d latched on to Frederic first, and the rest became history.

“I play with him in the Canterlot Royal Symphony Orchestra,” Octavia said. “I just never knew he played here, nor that he was interested in blues music.”

He was a fine player, too. He handled the guitar quite well even without a unicorn’s horn and without a pick. His hoof movements were as fine and precise as his brass training, and he was as steady on two hooves as when he played the saxophone.

The music became louder and more vibrant. Piano and guitar intertwined with each other as easily as Octavia could do so with her cello, but there was something rougher in the sound of the guitar. The strum of the guitar became a pulsing, driving beat with a soft growl that made the hairs on Octavia's neck stand on end. And yet the piano was not lost in the mix, the pianist playfully tickling the keys in light, quick strokes that matched the pace of the guitar but softened the sound and gave it a bright, cheery feel. The sound was rounded out and filled out by a drummer keeping time, a pony on a double bass gently plucking the strings of the giant instrument, and a tamborine player who added extra quirks to the sound with the shaking and the tapping.

Octavia would have gotten out of her seat and danced if it wasn't for the fact she was in a theater, and theaters required better composure than that.

Noteworthy played a whole thirty-five minutes’ worth of songs before taking a bow and leaving, and the last fifteen minutes was once again given over to jazz music. The music seemed more sedate and calmer by comparison, moving along at a more deliberate and relaxed pace from the quick and rough movements of the blues guitar, and gently quieted in the last song to a slow, peaceful fade. When the final note was played and the members took a bow, Octavia clapped her hooves in approval of the skill, quality, and program layout.

Outside in the lounge after the show, Octavia found Noteworthy hanging around the bar, a small glass with a caramel-colored liquid and a large ice cube in it.

“Noteworthy!” Octavia called.

The blue stallion looked up and smiled as he saw Octavia coming, and even opened a hoof to accept a hug from the mare.

“Oh, it's so good to see you!” Octavia said happily. "It feels like it's been forever since I've seen you. How are you?"

“Good, good!” Noteworthy replied happily. “I’d almost forgotten you moved down here.”

Octavia giggled. “I honestly doubt that. How is everyone?”

Noteworthy gave a dramatic sigh. “Arpeggio cannot stand the thought of continuing the orchestra without his star, and Frederic is pining for his lost Lenore; he mopes about the house all day asking about you.”

Octavia smirked playfully. It was good to see Noteworthy still had his sarcasm. “Oh has he? And how is he coping?”

“Don’t worry,” Noteworthy replied with a wink. “I know how to keep him satisfied in the meantime.”

Octavia blushed. “Well, that's good to hear. What about yourself?”

“Oh, I'm just down here for the evening. Have to oblige my hometown when they send me an invitation, after all. How are you? Has the move treated you well?”

“Yes, actually. I’m here with a few friends.” She motioned to Care Package and Spectrum talking to… someone; they were partially hidden by the crowds and Octavia couldn’t see the third pony.

“Our introverted Tavi, making new friends within two weeks of arriving?” Noteworthy gave a rather overexaggerated gasp. “I wouldn’t have imagined it. And two males!? Oh, how quickly the heart heals!”

“Oh calm down; they’re partners with each other. I’ve no interest in either. Well, maybe the beige one just a little," Octavia said shyly, "but he’s taken. They... they remind me a bit of you and Frederic, in a way.”

“Well, I’d love to meet them. Why don’t you call them over and we have a drink?”

Octavia turned to Care Package and Spectrum and motioned for them. “Come here; I want you to meet an old friend of mine.”

The two pegasi trotted over with large smiles on their faces. “Well,” Care Package said with awe, “you said you knew him, but I didn’t believe you for a moment. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Noteworthy.”

Spectrum said nothing. He was happily trotting in place and a grin seemed to be plastered onto his face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Noteworthy said with a nod of his head. “How did you come to know Octavia?”

“We lunch together at the Station Café often,” Care Package said. “I stop in the middle of my postal runs, and she goes to write music.”

“Good, good. The Station Café is a particular favorite of mine. Used to go there for dinner some evenings to try and meet ponies.”

“Certainly is the spot,” Octavia agreed. “They go there often, and I’ve met a few others there. It reminds me of the places we used to go to back in Canterlot.”

“Ah, so you’ve managed to integrate yourself into Ponyville life. I imagine you've bought up Recorderz supply of music sheets already.”

"I love that place's selection of music," Spectrum said. "I always go there to pick up the latest albums and they have a bunch of other accessories there; I had to bring our record player there not long ago."

“Well, I'm ashamed to say I've not even been there. But if it has the recommendations from you two, then I'll go there.”

Care Package and Spectrum had work the next day, but Octavia wanted to talk with Noteworthy for a little longer. Octavia said her farewells and turned back to Noteworthy.

"So, how is everyone really doing back there? I feel so cut off from there ever since the move."

"You should come up to visit sometime. Frederic was thinking of having us host a party, and Arpeggio wants to hold something for the band members; he's already talking with Fleur-de-Lis - our newest benefactor - about having a charity event to raise money for the band. Or you could have us all come down here; I'd love to see your house."

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid of going back, to be honest. You see, I really don't want to... to see—"

“Hey, Noteworthy!”

Octavia nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard it. She turned around. Sure enough, there was that one light blue uni- Neon Lights, that was his name. She had seen him at the Station Café, too. Yet another face that kept popping up around town.

Neon walked over and held up a hoof, to which Noteworthy extended his own and bumped hooves with him. Neon still had on his black collared shirt and red tie and still looked like he hadn’t bothered to brush his mane. There was still that air of general unkemptness about him – she hadn’t been able to put a hoof on it earlier, but that’s what it was. It reminded her a little of—

“Hey, man!” Neon was saying. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’m good." Noteworthy held out a hoof for a hoofbump, which Neon playfully returned. "Hey, are you free next weekend? I want to come around and work on something.”

“Yeah, I’m available. I’ve got some time next weekend. Still working on the blues album or something else?”

“Blues album. I’ll bring the guitar; I think I have that one solo worked out.”

“Cool! I’ll see you then.”

It was only then that he seemed to notice Octavia, and only because he turned around in her direction.

“Hey, Octavia! I didn’t see you there for a minute!”

Octavia nodded respectfully, but muttered a "hmph" at his ignorance of her standing there. “Noteworthy’s a friend of mine. I play with him in the orchestra and didn’t know he played here until tonight.”

“Oh, really?” He seemed vaguely impressed by that, and Octavia felt a strange surge of pride. Strange, because she wasn’t sure why – or even if – she liked him to be impressed by that. “Noteworthy’s been working with me on recording songs for a blues album for the past two years.”

Octavia found that almost impressive; both the fact that Noteworthy had apparently been associating with him for two years and she hadn’t known, and the fact that he had returned it almost without hesitation.

“It’s true,” Noteworthy said, reading the expression on Octavia’s face. “My old friends here in the Players are helping out.”

Octavia could do no more than nod at Noteworthy. Instead, she turned to Neon. “You much interested in blues or jazz?”

“Own a few albums, attend a few concert lounges.” He nodded and shrugged. “They were bigger in Manehattan and there’s a fair amount in Los Pegasus.”

Octavia nodded curtly. "A DJ with an ear to the ground on other music? I would have thought you were primarily interested in electronic music or remixes."

"Remixes require an open mind to a lot of music," Neon explained calmly. "I can pick whatever I want, but it's helpful to know and like a lot of genres so the structural integrity of the song remains. Some of the pleasure of remixing for me comes from taking favorite songs and adding a new twist."

"What of other artists? Do they mind you reworking it?"

"There's a lot of legal issues. Royalties, contracts, various stipulations given by the bands... It takes longer to get the approval for the remix than the remix itself and I can't afford to skip one part."

Octavia was flabbergasted. How could he talk about doing these things so casually? It was as though all of these already decent songs were ripe for the picking and all he had to do was choose the right one as though it was like buying apples from the store. It seemed to her like taking a marble statue intended to be white and coloring in the eyes to make it pop art.

Neon looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’ve had a long day; had to do inventory counts at the store and I’ve got new stock coming in tomorrow, plus I want to work on recording that new techno song I've been writing.”

Noteworthy nodded and extended his hoof for another bump. “And I probably need to catch a train back tonight. Frederic wants to go out tomorrow. Two year anniversary!”

“Alright. I’ll leave and head off. Good night!” He turned to Octavia and smiled… rather friendly-like, as though ignorant of the power play that had just transpired. And then he left.

Noteworthy looked at Octavia for a while. “You alright?” he asked after a minute.

Octavia sighed. “Where are you going tomorrow? —with Frederic,” she added hastily.

“La Jument Petite,” Noteworthy said.

Octavia sniffed. And then the tears that had been coming suddenly stopped and retreated. When she spoke again, she felt her voice fill with fire. “I hope you have fun. And tell Frederic congratulations from me to both of you.” She turned to go.

Noteworthy sighed. “Is this about Vinyl?” he asked.

Octavia turned around with an actual gasp of surprise. “Of course it’s not about Vinyl! I’m happy for you, really! Why would you even bring that bitch into it?”

Noteworthy just looked at her confusingly. “That’s not normal language for you. I… I don’t even think I’ve heard that from you ever.”

“As good a time to start, then.” Octavia turned around and walked out of the theater.

She heard footsteps behind her. “Tavi, if it’s something about Vinyl, why don’t you just tell me? You shouldn’t just keep it bottled in.”

“I’m not bottling anything in!” Octavia shouted without stopping.

“You are. I heard every single detail of that conversation that took place in there, even the stuff that wasn’t said. And here’s what I got: you started arguing with Vinyl and now you think all ponies like her are a bunch of stuck up… pricks.” Noteworthy said the last word rather quietly, as though he didn’t like even the notion of the word itself.

Octavia stopped and turned around. Noteworthy was standing there behind her looking at her with concern. For a long time, she was unsure about what to say. Noteworthy wasn’t as close to her as Frederic or Arpeggio were, but obviously he still was a long-time friend and… had really poked through to the main issue.

Octavia sighed. “On our one year anniversary, Vinyl turned down a reservation at La Jument Petite in favor of a party for us at Trance Rhythm’s house. There. Are you happy?”

Noteworthy exhaled sharply. “Oh. I didn’t mean to offend you. Tavi, I'm sorry.”

Octavia shook her head. “No. You’re right. I’ve been stupid and letting it get a hold of me. I’m the one who should say sorry to you.”

Noteworthy smiled. “You should try apologizing to Neon Lights, as well. You were sort of showing it with him, too.”

Octavia nodded. “I... I don't know..." She sniffed a bit, but turned away from Noteworthy so he couldn't see her. She felt ashamed of herself, of the way she'd acted and the tone she'd used.

Noteworthy walked Octavia the rest of the way home and waited until she had opened the door.

“Are you going to miss your train?”

“There’s one left tonight,” he said. “It’s only nine thirty. I have enough time to pick up my guitar before catching the train.”

Octavia smiled. “Thank you, Noteworthy. And really, I do want you and Frederic to know that I’m happy for you and congratulations on two years together.”

"I appreciate the sentiment," he said warmly. "But you should apologize to Neon, too. You are placing blame where it doesn't belong. And maybe you should talk with Vinyl Scratch again. You were together for a year; it's not like you need to completely cut ties with her." With that, he waved goodbye and left.

Octavia sighed. Tomorrow, perhaps, she would go down and see Neon. At least it would clear her conscience.

* * *

Octavia did not go the next day, nor the day after that.

For a whole week, Octavia didn’t see Neon Lights. She became preoccupied with a whirlwind of other things, and she admitted to herself she didn’t want to see Neon Lights again so soon. So she put off the meeting even though she could have visited him any time during the evenings at his home at the bottom of the hill.

In the meantime, she found herself more preoccupied. Her new song was coming along well, and she spent many hours either in the sunroom or the living room working on it. Her tennis practices extended into simple matches with other beginners at the courts. She began looking at possible dates for a party; having felt herself finally at home in the new house, she wanted to invite her friends from Canterlot over for small get-together.

And she started looking into some form of work; having learned that a rather talented Canterlot musician was in town, the mayor had come to ask her if she could teach a music class, coming in once a week to do a simple music lesson. She declined the offer of being a music teacher but said she considered it a possibility, though she was more in favor of doing private, one-on-one lessons.

It was a week after the jazz concert when Octavia realized she really needed regular music sheets to write her new piece on. It was nearly finished, but the lines were all over the place and it was becoming hard to write out the notes and clearly see what she wanted them to be. And so, it was time to go to the one place that she hadn’t been yet: Recorderz music shop.

Trying to remember as best she could the route Pinkie had taken from the shop to her home, Octavia retraced the steps of three weeks ago. It wasn’t too hard; there seemed to be something of a permanent rut that no amount of dirt filling it in could replace or cover. And so she followed the path through the town, hoping her memory and the path would lead her correctly.

Recorderz was in a fairly nice section of town. In a sort of small square, it lay amongst a nursery and flower shop, a café, a bookstore, and a small general goods store. Octavia walked over to the store with the gilded letters saying “Recorderz: Music Needs and Wants”, pushed open the door, and went inside.

There was the tinkling of a bell overhead as she opened the door and stepped inside. On the side of the store she was on were a bunch of small rotating racks filled with accessories; cords, strings, picks, polish, cloths, cleaning supplies. Over towards the back were various instruments lining the walls behind a counter that stretched from the front around the corner to the back, with a door heading into the back rooms. On the opposite side of the store from where Octavia stepped in were a few shelves filled with various records and albums and CDs.

For a while, Octavia browsed around the store. She looked at the records and took note of the rather large classical section and the decent-sized jazz and blues section. She browsed the racks and found strings for her cello, sheets for her music, wood polish combined with magic designed to keep the sonic integrity of the instrument. She picked them all up and headed for the counter, counting her bits as she waited for someone to come out of the back.

When someone came out to attend to her, she found herself not as surprised as she thought she would be. “Hello, Neon.”

“Hello, Miss Octavia,” Neon Lights said politely. He adjusted his tie with his magic. “I was half wondering when I’d see you around here.”

“Are you the only one in?” Octavia asked. She was kind of hesitant to actually talk with him now that she was here.

“No. It’s just after the lunch hour. I’m on front duty alone and the other two are in the back.”

“Oh." Octavia moved forwards and deposited her items on the counter. "Well, I wanted to apologize for a week ago.” The words came out strained and sounded more like a croak.

Neon set down the item he was about to ring up. "...I'm sorry?"

"At the theater." Octavia said. "I wanted to apologize for what happened at the theater after the jazz concert."

“Oh, at the theater? Why? What did you do?” He sounded like he remembered, but didn't want to tell Octavia that.

“Well, I was probably being a little snide or derisive or just plain rude. I kept trying to one-up you, trying to make myself better.” But she couldn't bring herself to say it was simply because he was a DJ, that somehow by his very being she felt insulted.

It was a horrible thought, and Octavia pushed that out of her mind before she could say it out loud. It wouldn't do, not when Neon was somehow being unfailingly polite to her.

“Yeah. I heard some of it, but… thankfully, I don’t take offense at that too easily.” Neon picked up the first item and scanned it.

Octavia nodded. “Good, good." How was he able to be so... nice? "Just… a friend pointed out I was being a little rude and I agreed with him.”

“You two dating?” Neon asked, scanning the last of the items and putting them into a bag.

“No, no. He’s got a partner in Canterlot; we’re just bandmates.” It was common in Canterlot for ponies to assume such. Interestingly, Neon was the first who asked as opposed to immediately assuming things.

“I see. You seemed to have been close to him. I wondered what it was.” Neon

“Nothing serious. But… I’m not looking.”

Neon, who had been preparing to print a receipt, stopped in his tracks and looked at Octavia. “…sorry?”

“I’m not looking.” Why? Why did she say that? Sure, she had left Vinyl, and it probably was true she wasn't entirely over breaking up with Vinyl yet, and Neon did kind of seem handsome...

...wait, why am I thinking that? Pull yourself together and think before you dig yourself deeper, Octavia!

Neon arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly. He printed the reciept and waited calmly while Octavia counted out the proper bits before placing the bag on the counter. Octavia grabbed the bag in her mouth and started walking out.

“See you around sometime, then?”

Octavia stopped and turned around. "I guess so. I mean, we'll probably see each other at Station Cafe sooner or later."

Neon smiled and nodded. "You should smile more often."

Octavia was confused. "...excuse me?"

"At the theater, when you were talking with Noteworthy and the two pegasi, you were smiling. You should do so more often." He smiled again, and this time it felt like his entire face lit up, a mischevious twinkle in his eye and a shy lilt to his voice. "You look prettier when you smile."

Octavia felt her cheeks get hot. "I... I should try a little more, then," she said. And she walked out.

As she walked back home and passed another store, she thought she felt something on her face. She turned towards her reflection in the store's window and looked at herself. It took her a moment to realize she was blushing.

Comments

[Mother3Forever]

Ok, We have Frederick Horseshoepin, Octavia, Noteworthy... I think we just need Beauty Brass and that's all of Octavia's Friends.