The Musicians Of Manehattan

by MxGoat

Chapter 3

Octavia woke to the feeling of blistering sunlight hitting her grimy fur, heating the layers of filth embedded underneath and cooking her alive. She opened her eyes to gaze upon an ocean of clean, white fur. She turned her head to look around. She was in an alleyway with a familiar sleeping unicorn wrapped around her midsection. Octavia rose to her hooves, her friend’s forelegs sliding off of her barrel as she did so.

“Vinyl, it is morning,” she said.

Vinyl groaned. “Just…five more minutes, Mom.”

After a brief sigh, Octavia tapped Vinyl’s ribcage with a hoof, and, because she got no response, she tapped again, and again, and again, causing her friend to eventually stir from her sleep. “…Oh, uh, hey…Octy. What’s up?” she asked. She rose to her own hooves, and, noticing the grey and orange music-covered brick walls of the passageway, she mumbled: “Why am I in an alley?” After a double take, she noticed the sheets of paper, the ink, the quill, and the lantern that she had brought to Octavia last night. She then noticed three cans of white spray paint alongside a small leather bag angled against one of the walls of the alley—things which she had not seen earlier. I wonder what those are for, she thought.

“You fell asleep while I was composing last night, Vinyl.”

“Oh.

“Oh no.”

Vinyl started frantically pacing around the alley, causing Octavia’s eyebrow to rise. “What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?! Mom’s gonna be so pissed at me!” she cried. Hyperventilating and shaking, she hurriedly assessed her options. She could return home and face the consequences of an angry mother, or she could avoid her as much as possible for as long as conceivable and deal with her later.

“Octy, I gotta go.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll cya later, Tavi!”

“You too, Vinyl.”

With that, Vinyl left Octavia alone in the alley once again.

***

“Mother, I’m home!” Vincenza called as she stepped through the front door of her house. The house was grey, much like the rest of the houses of her neighborhood, for some odd reason.

“Vincenza?! Where the hell have you been?!”

“Heh…”—Vincenza shrugged sheepishly—“Sorry Mom. …At least I’m here now, right?”

“…Yes. That does not answer my question though. Where were you?” Vincenza’s mother asked.

“…Um…—” Vincenza’s gaze shifted nervously around the room.

She was doomed.

Vincenza spoke of her nighttime visits with Octavia, but resisted spilling information of her location, much to her own relief.

“So you’ve been seeing a homeless filly at night, without my permission, with complete disregard for what I’ve told you?” Vincenza’s mother repeated. “Where is she?” She asked, firmly.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I can’t tell you that.”

“And why not?!” she exclaimed.

Vincenza paused. She had no response for her. A gust of wind hit her face, causing her to stare out an open window. What the hay? she thought.

Soon, the window slammed shut. A storm was brewing.

***

There was so much rain. It was cold and the whistling wind was merciless against those unfortunate enough to occupy the streets of Manehattan. Large, thunderous roars boomed overhead as bolt after bolt of lightning struck the ground with the intent to kill the concrete beneath it. Everything was grey: The sky was grey, the buildings were grey, and the streets were grey. The only color which truly stood out against this grey was the gray of a composer as she searched for shelter from underneath her grey sweatshirt.

Earlier that day, Octavia had decided to go on a pleasant walk. Yes, a joyful, refreshing walk along the busy, pony-filled sidewalks of the city. She was quickly displeased with the landing of a giant dollop of liquid water on her muzzle and the sudden cold air and empty streets. “Blast those weatherponies,” she groaned. Just like that, she was drenched. At least it is washing off all of this gum and dirt, she thought sarcastically. Usually she was grateful for rain, but this day was no such day. Today the sky was a screaming titan. This was a storm—a living hell for the homeless. That is, if hell had frozen over.

House after house flew across her vision as she galloped down the pavement of the small neighborhood. Oh look! Grey houses! How nice! How absolutely wonderful! To her unknowing luck, she passed by a nice grey house with a grey picket fence and a grey porch and grey-filled windows, with the exception of one window, which had a speck of white behind it. As she passed by that window, she heard a thump on the glass, and a squeaky swinging of a hinge. A scratchy voice called for her, the red-eyed unicorn motioning for her to come inside.

Octavia stopped, stupefied. She blinked, and then she pinched herself. When she finally had a good enough confirmation that she was indeed not dreaming or seeing a mirage, her whole face peeled into a giant, goofy grin.

“Come on, Octy! You’re gonna freeze to death out there!”

Octavia’s stupor was broken and she remembered she was sitting out in the oppressively cold, windy streets instead of a possibly warm inside next to a warm filly and possibly good times. She trotted down the driveway and up to the grey door, where the white filly greeted her. She nodded and stepped inside the doorway. After the door shut behind her she momentarily hugged the familiar unicorn.

“Thank you, Vinyl. You really are a lifesaver,” Octavia said.

“Hey, no biggie. Make yourself at home. I gotta talk to my mom about this. Just don’t sit on any furniture yet until we get you a bath,” Vinyl teased. She helped Octavia out of her sweatshirt and then left her, walking down a hallway to the back of the house.

Octavia settled down in the living room, sitting on the warm cedar floor in front of a blazing, but welcoming fireplace. It is nice here, she thought. I almost forgot what this was like. It is rather soothing…. Yes, I like it here. Octavia sighed contentedly as the warmth of the fireside slowly wore away the cold, liquid barrier that the storm had constructed around her body. When she heard the sounds of muffled yells, however, the chills returned and she was left shivering once again.

When the yelling paused, Octavia heard the stomping of Vinyl from the hallway. She looked towards her and motioned for her to stand up and follow her. “C’mon. It’s about time you get yourself cleaned up,” Vinyl said. “Don’t mind my mother.”

***

Octavia slipped further into the warm, soapy water. Soon, every part of her but her head was enveloped in the liquid and bubbles. She contemplated upon how quickly her life had improved. One week ago, she was alone, starving on the streets, with nothing to do or say, and no way to record her thoughts. Now, while she was still living on the streets, she got to eat much more frequently than she used to over the last couple of days, she could write her thoughts down, albeit as music, not words, which was just fine with her—she preferred it that way, in fact—and she finally had somepony to talk to on occasion. It was wonderful.

Now, here she was, soaking in a bathtub, feeling all the disgusting filth that had previously caked her fur run off of her body and pollute the water, bringing it closer and closer to its eventual demise down the drain. It would only be a matter of time before she would be finally free of all that grime, and she could finally see her clean coat once again. It was too bad that she would eventually lose it to the streets again.

Octavia shook her head. She was grateful for what Vinyl has done for her. She was lucky to have met her. She would not let one stupid thought prevent her from enjoying every second of this that she had, and she would not let Vinyl’s actions be for naught. She was clearly trying to make life easier for her, and she intended to let her do so.

She floated in the bath for a while longer before finally pulling the plug and letting all the dirt that she had accumulated from at least a year of street life slip down the drain. She lifted herself out of the tub and planted her hooves on a bathmat, reached for a towel and dried herself off, and then progressed onwards towards the living room to join Vinyl by the hearth.

When she reached the living room, Octavia was met with an expected, yet surprising—however much of an oxymoron that may be—appearance. Beside Vinyl Scratch, on the sofa, was the pink-maned, white-coated unicorn from before. Upon a closer glance, she noticed her emerald-green eyes, which shone sinisterly as firelight hit them, and several wrinkles, presumably formed from aging, adorning her face. She didn’t look old, but she didn’t appear to be young either. One could say that she appeared middle-aged.

“Hey, Octy! Did’ja have a good bath?” Vinyl asked.

“Yes. Thank you for that, by the way, Vinyl. It was wonderful.”

“That’s great!”

Vinyl’s gaze shifted towards the unicorn next to her, then back to Octavia. She pointed a hoof towards her. “Oh, uh…Octy, this is my mother, Arpeggio. Mom, this is Octavia,” she explained.

“Nice to meet you, Arpeggio.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Now, let us cut to the chase: why have you, a complete stranger and a homeless pony, been meeting with my daughter in the middle of the night, and why was she missing this morning?”

Wow. How straightforward of her, Octavia thought.

Author's Note:

Yay! Chapter 3 is out!

Comments

[ZyferKazumi]

Yes. Looking forward for an update as allways nicely done

[Dream Dusk]