Filly Friends

by thehalfelf

Off Tempo

Off Tempo

Slowly, I crept through the hallway of my dorm building, careful to not bump into anything in the building’s dim nighttime light. In the last two days of our break from classes, I’d only been back at my own room long enough to leave a note for Symphonia explaining where I was in case she needed me.

The note simply said I was with Vinyl. In retrospect, it might have been a better idea to explain exactly what we were doing: which was basically nothing. We spent the entire time just sitting and talking. She mixed music; I cleaned the room and poked fun at her.

Not that I thought Symphonia would believe me, which is why I waited until so late at night to return home. I would have to endure the teasing eventually, but, if it was only in passing tomorrow morning, I’d have time to digest her best ammunition before she could really lay it on. I couldn’t really blame her either; in her eyes, I’d freaked out when Vinyl kissed me, vanished, and was only now returning home two days later.

Just because I’d brought the teasing on myself didn’t mean I couldn’t deal with it when I was ready to.

Or so I thought. A familiar voice called out to me as I sneaked into my own dorm room. “So, just what time do you think this is, young lady?”

In what was starting to feel like a pattern, I poked my head around the corner separating the hall from the main living space. Symphonia was perched backwards on the couch, with only her head and forehooves visible over the back. Already a small smirk pulled at her lips.

“It’s late and I’m going to bed,” I said, stepping into the living room.

“Vinyl’s too lumpy?” she shot back. Her eyes never strayed from me as I attempted to walk across the room without looking over at her.

“Symphonia…” I sighed and turned to face her. “Go ahead and get it out of your system now.”

“I’m happy for you,” she replied, dropping her teasing tone, “seriously. I thought you might just be in shock when we talked on Saturday, but I didn’t want to push it.”

“Yeah, I think I was too.” I walked back around the couch and sat on the floor in front of her. “I talked to Aunt Rosin though and decided it was worth a try.”

“Of course you listen to my advice when Mom gives it…” Symphonia pouted. “Whatever, I figured it was something like that after I got your note. You missed practice yesterday, by the way. Lyra was pissed.”

I cocked my head to one side. We’d just finished up a major show, meaning that practice was unofficially optional for a couple of weeks, which is why I didn’t bother going. “I’m surprised she was even there. She tends to miss practice after shows more than I do.”

“You don’t remember?” Symphonia asked, surprise evident in her voice. “It’s recommendation season.”

My stomach took the express elevator to the bottom of my hooves. “I totally forgot…” I whispered.

Recommendation Season came once or twice every year, usually after our major shows. The idea was that if an orchestra was looking for new faces, they would attend the major shows put on by student orchestras across Canterlot. If they were impressed by certain performers or the performances themselves, they reached out to faculty advisors who would then pick out students to audition.

Symphonia nodded her head at a small envelope I hadn’t noticed on our coffee table. “That’s why I’m still awake. I wanted to make sure you got that before practice tomorrow.”

For me? I mouthed, pointing at myself. In answer, she floated the small gilded piece of paper over to me. With shaking hooves I took it, carefully popping open the seal and unfolding the actual message. My eyes skimmed over the familiar writing of Bent Bow.

The message was short and to the point. It started with congratulations on my performance at the last show and at taking Percussion under my metaphorical wing as well. I nearly dropped the letter as I hit the end. Bent Bow had recommended me for an opening in the Philharmonica Philharmonic Orchestra - Father’s.

“Where have you been recommended to?” Symphonia asked. I snapped my gaze up from the letter and slowly extended my hoof. She pulled the paper from me and quickly skimmed it over. “Oh, nice.”

“Nice?” I thought back to the countless dozens of shows I’d seen Father conduct. For years I’d always imagined myself on stage just like their group was, but had never thought about specifically joining them.

“Yeah. Imagine how pissed Lyra is going to be when she finds out tomorrow. She didn’t even get a recommendation this year. Again.” Symphonia set my letter on the table and let loose a laugh.

“She’s going to be something,” I agreed, only half listening. My mind was still firmly orbiting the recommendation. There was no way that I performed at the level I needed to with my lack of magic. I couldn’t audition for any orchestra, my Father’s or no, without being the best I possibly could be to match the proficiency of unicorn players. I'd be laughed off the stage.

We both went to bed shortly after, as we both had classes looming just a few short hours away. As I drifted to sleep, I could only think one thing: tomorrow at practice I had to turn down the recommendation.

That thought drifted with me through the entirety of the next day. The gilded envelope practically burned my flank through my saddlebags. In my last class before practice, Vinyl even asked me if something was wrong. I blew her off, citing Symphonia keeping me up too late with her teasing. She seemed to believe me, but I still decided I would apologize and explain later.

As I approached our practice room in the auditorium, Symphonia’s words came back to me. I grimaced, preparing myself to deal with Lyra, and quickly stepped into the room before my nerve failed me.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” groused a visibly annoyed Lyra.

I looked around the mostly empty room; only about a quarter of our normal number was in attendance. “Why are you here, Heartstrings?” I asked, exasperated.

Symphonia snickered from the other side of the room. Lyra shot her a haughty look before answering. “I’m here to practice, of course. Something you have been lacking in lately.”

“I missed one day,” I shot back, letting annoyance color my voice. “And judging by the turn out today, I didn’t even miss anything important.”

“You missed getting your recommendation letter with everypony else. We all opened them together, you know. Everypony except you.”

I glanced past Lyra’s head to Symphonia, who was staring open mouthed at the other unicorn. Suspicions confirmed, I shook my head. “Sure you did. If you wanted to see, Lyra, all you had to do was ask.”

It may have been petty of me, but knowing that Lyra hadn’t received a recommendation again this year, I reached into my saddlebag and hoofed over my own letter. She took it and unceremoniously opened it. She skimmed towards the bottom, eyes growing ever wider. When she finished, she thrust the piece of paper back at me.

“Of course you received a recommendation to your father’s own group,” she snarled.

“That’s a little much, even for you,” Symphonia chimed in, walking to join me in the doorway.

“It’s true, though.” Lyra sat and crossed her hooves, digging in for the long fight. “There are several ponies in our orchestra that deserve a recommendation who didn’t get one because Octavia got it instead. How many cellists are in her section and in their last year?”

“And how many actually wanted it?” Symphonia shot back. “Some ponies are only here for fun, not for a career. This isn’t the Conservatory.”

I sat back as the argument heated up in front of me. I somehow had barely registered that I was being recommended to Father’s own orchestra. It wasn’t terribly surprising either, given how the system worked. Bent Bow was recommending that I audition for Father’s orchestra, they hadn’t come recruiting me specifically. In theory, it was possible that somepony reached out to Bent Bow for me specifically, it wasn’t like his involvement was a secret, but if that was the case, wouldn’t they have just approached me themselves?

The argument ground to a halt as our door opened. I quickly scurried out of the way, jerked from my own thoughts, as Bent Bow himself walked into the room. He looked the three of us over with his normal warm smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” I said first, making sure neither Lyra or Symphonia could get themselves in trouble. “I would like to talk with you, though. In private, if possible?”

He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I have another round of recommendations to give out, then we may speak.”

I waited patiently as he distributed another set of gilded envelopes - newly signed recommendations - trying to avoid Symphonia’s withering glare. She probably knew what I was planning, but didn’t want to get involved with the orchestra ponies nearby. After he finished, Bent Bow smiled at me and nodded towards the door. I followed him back into the hallways of the auditorium.

He led me to one of the few faculty offices in the building: a small, cozy room nestled in the back reaches of the auditorium. After clearing off a chair currently full of sheet music, he motioned for me to sit before taking his own seat behind a desk.

“Now then,” he said. “What did you wish to speak about?”

I took a deep breath and slid my recommendation letter across the clean desktop. “I cannot accept this.”

“Oh?” Bent Bow asked. He took the letter from me and quickly glanced it over. “Why not?”

“I do not believe I am skilled enough to audition for such a prestigious orchestra,” I responded.

Bent Bow slid the envelope back, chuckling slightly. “I had expected a different problem from you, but no matter. Miss Philharmonica, I recommended you and one other cellist from our orchestra. I’ve heard rumors that the Conservatory has recommended four of their own, all for that one opening. I cannot speak for those ponies, but I believe everypony I recommended has an equal chance of passing their audition.”

“But…” I tried to counter, but stopped as he raised a hoof.

“You are a phenomenal cellist, Octavia. You would do well in any group you audition for. I recommended you as I did because I believe it will allow you the most growth as a musician. It is not because of your heritage, as ponies such as Miss Heartstrings will suggest, but because of your skill. Your prowess as an Earth Pony musician lends you more weight than Legatus’ or Melody’s careers ever will.”

I sat for a few moments, trying and failing to internalize the glowing praise. “I appreciate your candor, sir, but I still do not believe I am at the skill level needed.”

“I did what I could,” Bent Bow said, his smile never faltering. “It is of course up to you whether you audition or not, but I refuse to rescind the recommendation. I will forward the audition requirements when they are sent to me, but it’s up to you whether you do it or not. You have a couple of months to decide.”

Sensing our meeting was over, I stood and inclined my head. “Thank you for your time. I’ll see you at practice on Friday.” On his nod of approval, I left the office.

I made my way back to the auditorium entrance. The only reason I’d even come today was to speak with Bent Bow, and after our earlier meeting I didn’t want to deal with Lyra again. I was suddenly very tired, the roller coaster of stress and emotion from the last few days was finally catching up to me, now aided by a slowly creeping doubt.

There weren’t many places I could realistically go, however. My parent’s home was too far and they were both in Las Pegasus preparing for Father’s next show. If I went back to my dorm room, Symphonia was likely to come home to bludgeon me with questions and accusations, judging by the look she’d given me when I left the practice room. Vinyl would probably let me rest but I’d have to apologize and explain afterwards.

Judging that to be my best option, I made my way across campus to her dorm. The hallway was empty when I arrived, as was normal. I knocked twice, and was about to again when the door was thrown open. Vinyl stood there, mane still dripping from her shower.

“Hey, Tavi, what’s up?” she asked, bringing a hoof across the fogged lenses of her ever present glasses.

“I find myself in desperate need of a nap, so I came to visit the expert,” I replied.

“I was going to go to the club…” she said, visibly weighing her options. Reaching a decision, she clapped her hooves together. “Alright, new plan. First we nap, then we party!”

Staying up all night seemed directly counter to not being tired, but it was hard to say no to Vinyl’s eager smile. “Okay, but I want at least three hours sleep.”

“Of course, of course. Step inside, let Vinyl teach you how to nap,” she said, stepping back to let me in. A snarky retort bubbled up, but I ignored it and entered the room instead.

I headed straight for the bed and flopped down on it’s decidedly unlumpy surface. “How do you teach somepony how to nap, anyway?”

“Dunno,” Vinyl replied, settling down beside me. I felt the pillow under our heads dampen slightly as it dried her mane. “But the first step is not talking, shhhh…”

Author's Note:

We had to debate long and hard about the chapter title on this one. We've been trying to keep it to sounds because I hate myself and insist on making stupid chapter title themes that I want to drop three chapters later for what they bring thematically. There just wasn't really a good one here, I think.

Anyway, I hope you all are keeping safe during this crazy time and are still enjoying the story as we round the corner into the last arc. Catch ya next week.

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[EddWar]

[Dusty Old Qrow]

A good nap can heal anything.