Falling For Our Stars

by bobdat

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

I got the shock of my life when we arrived back at the hotel. Rarity had dragged Miri off to go and visit some kind of souvenir shop she’d spotted, and left Fly and I to head back to the room. We were supposed to spend the evening watching another educational video, and Fly and I were having trouble thinking of an alternative.
“We’ve got to sneak off somewhere,” I said to her as we climbed the stairs to the room. “It’ll just be a waste if we’re stuck here.”
“Wait until the others get back, then we can think of something,” Fly suggested. I sighed and stepped into the room, ready to massage my aching hooves.

As a precaution, I looked around to see where the card I’d given Rarity was. It wasn’t in sight.
“It’s not where I left it,” Fly added, looking at Rarity’s open suitcase.
I decided to try not to worry about it, and looked through the clothes I’d brought for a warm coat if we were going to be outside all evening. That’s when I saw it. Tucked inside my suitcase was a pale pink envelope, with the word ‘Toccata’ written in elaborate script on the front.
Fly just watched with an open mouth as I tore it open carefully, removing the card from inside. It featured two fillies sitting together in a park, holding hooves.

Dear Cat,
It took a lot of courage but I have decided to tell you my feelings. You are such a lovely pony and I wish we could be together more. Hopefully this card will help you realise how I feel about you.
Much love from ?

I was stunned. Fly took the card and examined it for any evidence of who sent it, but nothing was apparent.
“Must have been bought in Buckingham,” Fly said, but that was all she could glean from it. I sat down heavily on my bed and stared at the cover, trying desperately to think who could have sent it, hardly daring to hope that it came from Rarity.
“Could be anyone, even one of the sixth years,” Fly added, her voice low. “They could have asked a seventh year to take it and give it to you.”

There didn’t seem to be any answers, so I put it back into the envelope and hid it at the bottom of my suitcase.
“What about your card?” I asked Fly, realising that she would have one too. “Did you open it yet?”
“Oh, no. I’ll open it now. I wanted to open it this morning but there was no time,” she explained, pulling it out of her bag. She read the card and blushed a little, then showed me. It was a very sweet message from her coltfriend, complete with a tiny sketch of Fly with her nose in a book. I thought it was very accurate as well as super-cute.
“Sounds like he’s one to keep,” I told her as I handed the card back, and she just smiled.

Once Fly had picked up her book, mainly to prevent me from asking her to play cards, I began to feel guilty about telling her about the card. Rarity didn’t seem to have told Miri, and if it was from her, then she probably wouldn’t have wanted me to show mine to Fly. But then again, maybe it wasn’t from her…
When Rarity did arrive back, I said nothing to her or Miri, and neither of them seemed to say anything. I half-expected Rarity to act differently, but she didn’t seem to be.
“So, any plans for something to do?” she asked, levitating a manebrush out of her suitcase and beginning to brush herself.

Miri had been an bought a tiny model of the Hoofful Tower, which was was stashing in her bag. “I don’t really know what there is to do in Mareis at night.”
Fly found her guidebook and flicked through. “It doesn’t give anything specific, apart from a list of fancy restaurants that are way out of our price range.”
“Maybe we’ll just have to endure the video,” I complained, lying on my back on my bed and staring at the patterned ceiling. “We should get an early night anyway.”
“It’ll be busy in the city because of it being Hearts & Hooves Day,” Rarity added. “Everypony wants to come here.”
Miri sighed and rolled onto her side, half-heartedly staring at a magazine.

Fly was carefully reading a page of the guidebook without much enthusiasm, so I gave up and started cleaning my hooves with a folded piece of paper.
“How about a boat trip on the river?” Fly suggested, looking up at the rest of us. “There are a few listed here that sail at night, and it’s supposed to be really good.”
Miri and I just shrugged at each other.
“Got to be better than a video,” Miri replied, drawing Rarity’s ire.
“Better than a video? A romantic cruise down the river in Mareis, taking in the city with all of its lights? The culture! Tres magnifique! It’s more than just better than a video!” she exclaimed, and I was glad it was Miri in her withering glare and not me.

The plan was settled, and Fly worked out a route to get to a big section of the river where there were loads of boats.
“We should be able to at least find space on one,” she said, counting out the metro stops in her head.
“I simply cannot wait,” Rarity declared, picking up her scarf once again, wrapping it elegantly around her neck. “This is really going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
The weather was quite nippy, so I made sure I put on some boots and a thick coat before we went anywhere. It made it rather obvious that we weren’t planning on watching an educational video, but hopefully we’d be able to sneak out without getting caught.

The teachers had worked out that nopony wanted to stay, so they were guarding the door.
“Ah,” Miri said. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to talk our way through this one.”
“Any ideas?” Fly whispered as we hid next to the main staircase. “We can’t wait here forever.”
“Maybe once the video starts, they’ll leave?” I suggested, but Miri disagreed.
“They’ll just be even more vigilant. Follow me.”
She led us around towards the room we ate breakfast in, and then we rapidly trotted through a door labelled ‘Private’.

“Miri, I don’t think…” Fly started, but Miri disappeared around a corner. It looked like a kind of kitchen, but there didn’t seem to be anypony around. We followed her and discovered her standing in front of the back door to the hotel with a triumphant expression.
“It leads to the street behind the one the hotel’s on. I spotted it when I was looking for that bakery before,” Miri explained as we hurried through the alleyway at the back. “Should be easy to escape from there.”
Fly recalculated which metro stop we needed if we couldn’t go around the front of the hotel, but it wasn’t a terribly long walk. Once we were onto the next street, there was no chance of the teachers catching us.
“Thanks Miri,” I said, relieved that we weren’t trapped with only the video to look forward to.

The lights of the city were rather impressive when we arrived at the river. Everything was reflected in the ripples, and the Hoofful Tower stretched up into the starless sky.
“I found one!” Miri shouted from a hundred yards down the path, pointing with a hoof at a boat. We hurried over to discover that it left in five minutes, which pleased me because we wouldn’t have to hang around in the cold.
“Only two bits!” the salespony said, so we all fumbled around in our pockets for coins. Once on board, we found seats towards the front. Rarity sat down gracefully and I was suddenly seized with panic; if it was going to be a romantic trip, would it be weird if I sat next to her?

Fly gave me a tiny push towards the seat, but Miri bounded past and plonked herself down in it before I could move. Fly and I took the pair of seats behind them, and I wasn’t sure what to think. Maybe Rarity had wanted me to sit next to her? I tried to convey this question to Fly without speaking, but she didn’t seem to really understand. I just sighed and stared out across the river, wondering who had sent me the card for the thousandth time. Fly was right; it could have been just about anypony, but there was the slightest chance that it might have been from Rarity, so I clung to that and kept my hooves crossed.

The boat started to move away without much fuss, heading downriver towards the ornately carved bridge ahead. Rarity was sat right in front of me, so I had an unobstructed view of the back of her mane, which, lovely as it was, wasn’t really as nice as the front of her head. I had a strange feeling about not being able to sit with her. It was like not being able to perform at a big concert; I felt relieved at not having to do anything, but at the same time disappointed to have missed an opportunity. The disappointment must have been most obvious on my face because Fly nudged me with her wing.
“Cheer up,” she whispered. “You’ll get a chance.”
I wished that the card had helped me vent some of my feelings, but it had done nothing of the sort.

We sailed past the Hoofful Tower, which looked majestic all lit up. I squinted at the very tip and wondered how we had ever gone up so high. It certainly seemed to be a very long way away from the river when you looked up at it. The boat went all the way through the city before turning around and coming back, which meant that I got a chance to see everything on both sides of the river. There was less to see on the side which didn’t have the Hoofful Tower, but we did get some nice views of the bridges across the river and ponies walking past, having romantic night-time strolls.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and before long I was lying under my blanket in the hotel room, trying to get off to sleep so I wouldn’t feel too terrible in the morning. Almost all of my stuff was packed already, so I wouldn’t have to do too much in the morning, which was a little sad because it felt as if we’d only just arrived. Everypony else seemed to be asleep, but I was having a hard time drifting off. Buckingham seemed a very long way away and a lot had changed since I was last there, although when I really thought about it, I realised that I had been slowly developing feelings for the unicorn for a while before we came to Mareis. It just took the trip to show me that they were what I was trying not to believe they were.

After that, it was just a long train ride back to Buckingham. Miri and I slept for most of it, finally waking up when we were only about an hour away from home. It was about five weeks until the holidays, and then exams started as soon as we were back, so there really wasn’t much time left at school. I was feeling a little bit sad about this when the carriages pulled into the school drive and dropped us off with our luggage. It didn’t take long to levitate my stuff up the stairs, ignoring pleas from Miri for assistance. Unicorn’s privilege, I told her, but she just pouted and asked Rarity.

There was a note tacked to our door when I arrived, addressed to me.
Cat,
Please see Mrs Lemon in her office at your earliest convenience.
I was sure that this time it would be an answer from Princess School, so I felt my nerves starting up. Once I’d dumped my suitcase on the bed and paused to let Fly into the room, I headed straight for the office, only realising as I waited outside that I was breathing much too fast. I tried to calm down and take deep breaths, but an annoying part of my head kept reminding me that this was pretty much my entire future.

“Ah, come in Cat. Take a seat,” Mrs Lemon told me, gesturing towards the chair. “How was the trip?”
“It was good,” I replied, tapping my hooves on the floor nervously.
“Excellent. Well, I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to come here,” the pony told me, her forehooves pressed together. “You’ve probably guessed that it’s from Princess School.”
I just nodded mutely, and she passed me a white envelope. The postmark was from Princess School, so I bit my lip and opened up the letter inside carefully.

Dear Toccata,
We are happy to offer you a place studying music at Princess School, commencing next autumn. I hope you are as delighted with this offer as we are.

The rest of the letter was just details of various administrative things I needed to do, like applying for somewhere to stay and giving them my medical details, but none of that sunk in. I was just staring at it, not really feeling excited but mostly relieved.
“Congratulations Cat,” Mrs Lemon said, smiling at me. “I know you worked very hard for it.”
“What do I need to do now?” I asked, scanning the letter for some list of grades in my upcoming exams.
The teacher just carried on smiling. “Well, it looks as if you don’t have to get anything in your exams. They’re willing to take you no matter what.”

My expression must have been a little bit too cheerful, because Mrs Lemon continued with a stern glance.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not taking any exams. You’ll still have to go to lessons and work hard to make sure you pass, otherwise you’ll just let everyone down.”
I nodded, still over the moon that the pressure of exams had been entirely lifted.
“Anyway, you can focus on leading the junior band and preparing for the concert. We need your talents to make this work,” she said, straightening her papers and slowly getting to her hooves. “You can go and tell your friends now.”

I practically galloped back up the stairs to the room, bursting with news. I threw the door open and was met with three questioning faces, who had no idea why I was so happy.
“I got into the Princess School!” I announced proudly, and I was immediately deluged with hugs and words of congratulations. I waited until they had calmed down a little before dropping my next bombshell.
“They don’t want any grades in my exams, so I don’t have to pass them,” I said, and received more congratulations, although I could tell that Fly was a little disapproving. I reassured her that I wasn’t just going to sleep all day instead of going to lessons or anything. Now that I had their attention, I told them about the end-of-year concert.

“Well, when it is? If it’s too late, I’ll already have flown back to Equestria,” Rarity said, sounding distressed. “I have to be back by the end of May.”
I felt like there was a stone where my tummy was. “Well, the plan was to hold the concert on the 31st…”
Rarity paused for a moment. “I think that would be fine, but I’d have to go straight to the airport afterwards.
That was a little better, but part of the reason I was actually going to perform was because I wanted to show off my music to Rarity. If she wasn’t there… I didn’t want to think about it.

Miri gave me some biscuits and we had a small party that night to celebrate my good news, but the biscuits were some she’d brought back from Mareis and they were a little crushed. After that, life returned to normal at Buckingham for everypony except me. Fly was rushing around, disappearing to the library every day to look things up and stressing about her exams. I kept reassuring her and telling her she’d be fine, but she continued to get worked up. The teachers were giving us more and more work, and I was very happy just to do my homework without the pressure of having to learn it at all costs. I could tell Fly was jealous, so I did my best to work hard and not make her feel worse.

Miri was also working hard on her exams, putting aside her Head Mare duties while she did. She didn’t get quite as obsessed as Fly, but sometimes when she had a lot of revision to do, she got a little bit snappy. I stayed away from her in those situations, preferring to help Fly revise by reading out flashcards or testing her on extracts from books.
Rarity didn’t have any pressure from her exams either, although she was still keen to do well. I thought that this would mean we’d get to spend more time together, but was was enlisted as Miri’s study friend and spent nearly all of her spare time quizzing Miri when I was quizzing Fly. We were all looking forward to the holidays.

Any extra free time I got from not having to study so much was taken by my three-times-a-week practices on the piano. Mr Bluejay was there for one of them, but the other two I did by myself, playing through the piece as best I could but having major difficulties. It was easily the hardest thing I’d ever attempted and there were times that I thought I would never be able to do it, but then I’d work out the next section and after a few hours, I’d be able to play it semi-well and I could move on. It started to sound more and more impressive as I got better, but it was taking weeks to get even a small way through it.

And then finally I had to deal with my junior band. Our first meeting was not long after I got back from the trip, and I made my way down to the practice room a little nervously, carrying a folder full of fairly simple tunes that everypony would be able to play. I deliberately arrived a couple of minutes late so that all of the younger ponies would be there before me. There was a lot of chattering coming from the room when I got there, so I pushed the door open and cleared my throat.
“Uh, hi everypony. I’m Toccata, and I’m going to be teaching you,” I started, heading straight over to the front of the room and dropping the folder on the desk.

Everypony in the room went silent and stared at me. I stared back, taking them in. There were only about ten of them, all first and second years, eagerly clutching their instruments.
“So, we need to be able to play two pieces of music for the end of term concert,” I explained. “I’ve got a few choices, so I’ll go through and see what I think would be best. For now, we can start by tuning the instruments.”
There was a big difference in talent amongst the group. There were a pair of first-year fillies with violins who were obviously beginners, so I patiently helped them with their tuning. At the back was a second-year with a trumpet, and when I asked her to play a simple tune for me, she played it perfectly and then looked very embarrassed. I noted that her cutie mark was a musical score, so I marked her down as an expert.

I split them into two groups, one made up of beginners and the other of ponies who seemed to know what they were doing. The beginners needed the most attention, so I simply gave the other group the music that I’d picked out and asked them to select something to play at the concert.
“You’ll be playing in front of everypony from school, plus a whole load of parents and teachers, so you need to pick carefully,” I told them, giving them each a different sheet. “You can try playing stuff and see what it sounds like.”
They nodded obediently. I knew that when I’d been a young ponies at Buckingham, I would probably have spent times like this gossiping because the pony taking the session wasn’t a real teacher and couldn’t hand out any discipline.

Instead, all of the ponies seemed quite well-behaved and even did what I told them, trying out the music on their instruments and seeming interested. I was impressed. I didn’t have to worry about the beginner’s group, because I could supervise them all of the time.
“The other group is picking the music because you all need plenty of practice. I’ll probably give you the easy parts to play, because the important part of performing is doing well, not playing something difficult.” I felt a little bit like a hypocrite.
One of the meaner-looking ponies pouted. “How come they get to pick?”
“Because you get me teaching you instead,” I replied simply, wondering if I was cut out to be a teacher. “Anyway, let’s get started with some scales. That’s the easy part.”

The other ponies eventually ended up arguing over which piece to choose. The majority seemed to want to play a simple but catchy piece, but some (including the one I thought was an expert) were more interested in a harder, classical one. I told them we’d play both to calm the waters, then set them to begin practicing amongst themselves. They automatically grouped up by instrument, which made my life a bit easier while I introduced the sheet music to the beginners.
“We’re going to do these two. This is the hard one,” I said, pointing to it. “But don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of time to practice. Now, get into groups for each instrument and make sure you can all see a sheet. You need to be able to read it and play at the same time, so don’t hide behind somepony taller than you.”

They were hard work at times, but the hour flew by amongst the squawks and whistles of inexpert musicians. They all left, clutching copies of the music and chattering to each other, hastily-packed instrument cases bobbing along in their saddlebags or in their hooves. I said goodbye to them all (it was ritual at Buckingham to say goodbye to the teacher at the end of the lesson), feeling very grown-up.
“Excuse me, miss?” a voice said from behind me, and I spun around to see who it was. It was the pony with the musical score for a cutie mark, her face tinged with red.
“Hmm? What is it?” I asked, feeling a little embarrassed for no discernible reason.
“I was wondering if I could ask a few questions.”

“You can call me Cat,” I told the younger filly, sitting down on a piano stool to talk to her. “Everypony does.”
“Um…” she replied timidly, reminding me of Fly. “Well, I was wondering, are you the pony who is going to Princess School next year?”
I was a little bemused that anypony except my friends and I knew that. “Yes, why?”
“Oh… my mum and dad went there. They want me to go,” she told me in a small voice.
“Well, that sounds like a good goal for the future,” I replied, trying to sound kind.
She still seemed excessively shy. “I’m just wondering if… um, well, I always get nervous playing music in front of other ponies.”

I laughed a little, and she seemed upset, so I shook my head hastily. “Oh, no, I just mean that I have the exact same problem. I’m always nervous playing at concerts.”
She brightened. “Really? I thought it was just me.”
“Oh, not at all. It’s a common thing, I think.”
“My name’s Serenade,” she told me, a little more at ease. “I’m a second year.”
“And you play the trumpet?” I asked, gesturing towards her instrument case. “I thought you played very well.”
“I’ve been playing since I was a foal. Do you play the piano?”

Since I was sat right next to it, I opened up the piano and played a short tune. “Yup! Ever since I was a foal.”
“What’s the hardest thing you can play?” she asked, and I suspected this was more out of general curiosity than any kind of specific questions she had for me.
Clumsily, I played a few bars of my concert piece from memory. “It sounds a bit like this, but I haven’t learnt it all yet.”
“Oh, wow. That was cool.”
The look in her eyes made me suddenly modest. “Well, it’s really hard and I don’t know if I’ll even be able to get it right.” I could tell she was forming an opinion of me as some kind of fantastic musician, even though I wasn’t.

“Well, shouldn’t you be getting back to your dorm?” I asked, closing the piano again. “Or do you have any more questions?”
She just shook her head and jumped to her hooves, smiling and disappearing out of the door. “Bye miss,” she managed, almost as an afterthought.
“Bye Serenade.”
While I tidied up the room, putting away chairs and music stands, I wondered whether I had been like Serenade when I was her age. I was definitely less shy and more of a chatterbox, although I never found the courage to talk to seventh years. When I was a second year, all of the seventh year ponies seemed impossibly glamorous and cool.

“How was your first session?” Fly asked when I got back to the room, saddlebags full of sheet music.
“It was pretty good. We’ve picked some music and I think we’ll be okay performing it,” I replied, going through the sheets and picking out the right ones. “I just have to edit the music so that the beginners can play it.”
“Sounds like fun,” Fly added, before going back to her studying, not really interested in the intricacies of music. I just shrugged and lay back on my bed, pretending to concentrate and make tiny revisions to the music with a pencil, but instead wondering whether I had turned into one of the glamorous and exciting seventh years that I had always looked up to when I was younger.

As the holidays approached and Fly and Miri disappeared under increasingly large piles of work, I found that a small fan club was springing up amongst some of the second years, spearheaded by Serenade. I did my best to deflect the attention, which was flattering. Serenade was always too shy to say anything during the band practices, but she listened to everything I said, sometimes listening in to stuff I said to the beginners, even though she knew it all already. Outside the practices, when I saw her or her friends in the corridors, they always seemed to smile and stare at me, whispering to each other once I’d smiled back and walked past.

“I hear you’re something of a hero to my younger pupils,” Mr. Bluejay told me after our last practice session before the holidays. “They can’t stop talking about the great Cat.”
I blushed. “I try not to encourage them.”
The stallion laughed. “Don’t worry, fillies will be fillies. There’s not really anything you can do about it except enjoy it; not all teachers have such a good reputation.”
“Some of them don’t even take music…” I added, sighing. “I suppose it’s nice to be appreciated.”
“It always is. You must have had a few idols in the sixth and seventh years when you were a filly.”
“I suppose,” I added, feeling a little uncomfortable to think of being a filly in the past tense. “They were usually the fashionable ones with coltfriends.”

“Well, maybe the current second years are a little more discerning,” the teacher replied kindly. “Anyway, just wait until you wow them all at the concert. They’ll be talking about you when they’re your age.”
“I hope not…” I replied, working out how old I’d be by then. “Seems a long way away.”
“Time flies, Cat, which brings me back to the matters at hand,” he said with a kindly smile. “You’ve got two weeks of holiday coming up, so you’ll need to practice daily. Do you need me to send a letter to your parents explaining?”
“Oh, no. They’ll be forcing me to practice anyway.”
“Good! Once you get back, you’ll have exams straight away, so we won’t have sessions then. After they’re over, it’s just a week, so I’ve taken the liberty of pencilling in an hour every day. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded. “Sounds fine to me.”
“Excellent. Then the concert will be on the Friday of that week, and I’m sure you’ll be fantastic,” he informed me. “Try not to get lazy during the holidays.”
“I won’t,” I replied, but I knew I would. Ever since the stress of exams had been lifted, I’d been getting into bad habits of lazing around for hours at a time, much to the irritation of Fly and Miri.
“Then I think you can go. Enjoy the holidays, though. Not too much work,” he said, getting up and opening the door for me.
“Thanks. Bye, sir,” I told him as I left, following the corridors back to the room.

There had been a nervous feeling building in my tummy for a few days up to that point. I’d put it down to nerves about my concert performance, but I knew that wasn’t it. The real reason was the fact that Rarity was going to stay with me over the holidays, for an entire week. My parents were happy to have her, and had even made me ask what kinds of foods she liked, but I wasn’t so keen any more. It seemed an eternity ago that the idea of having Rarity to visit for a week would have filled me with happiness, but after I’d found I had feelings for her, I knew that it was going to be a difficult week. She was going to be sharing my room, and it was only going to be the two of us for a whole week. It had only taken a few hours together in Mareis for me to realised that I really liked her, so seven days was probably going to tip me over the edge.

If I said something stupid or let her know about my feelings, it would ruin our friendship completely, and she’d probably have to go back to Fly’s for the rest of the week. I didn’t even know if I would be able to face going back to Buckingham after that, because it was certain that everypony would know by the end of the first week. To make matters worse, once exams were over, Rarity would be going back to Equestria. I was supposed to enjoy the week, with the last days of Buckingham coming up, but instead I was going to be nervous and worried, which was not what I wanted in the slightest. The dread built in my tummy and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, hoping that it would work out.

Comments

[bobdat]

3216962
Well spotted. I'll fix that.