Whine
Whine
I regretted my choice the second the diner’s door shut behind me. The unease and unpleasantness I’d felt vanished with the bell. Vinyl meant well, but she was trying to help with a problem that wasn’t really the problem. Not that I could tell her what the actual trouble was. The last thing I wanted to do was upset her with my own uncertainty.
For that reason I trudged through the streets in silence back towards campus. The diner Vinyl found was a little out of the way, but it wasn’t too long before I was back in my own dorm room. I answered Symphonia’s greeting with a half-hearted hoof wave and went straight to my room, to my bed. Maybe half an hour after I curled under my blanket, I heard a knock at the door. Symphonia talked to somepony, then shut the door.
Sometime after that I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was morning. I groaned and rolled to face the rest of the room. Symphonia’s bed was empty, which didn’t mean much by itself. There was always the chance she’d fallen asleep on the couch. After glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I also conceded that she might be out, seeing as it was well into the late morning.
Saturday morning, to be specific. I had no plans, nothing going on, and nothing to do. Symphonia would have another show tonight, maybe even one in the afternoon. What I needed to do was go apologize to Vinyl, but it was hard to even think about talking to her. For the first time since we’d reconnected, I was almost dreading our mutual class on Monday. Assuming of course that she showed up. The last time I’d snapped at her for no reason, I didn’t see her for years…
I flopped back over to face the wall again and scooted a little closer to it. She wouldn’t leave again, would she? Of course not, I wouldn’t let her. I just needed more time before I could face my shame. In a few long minutes, I drifted into a thankfully dreamless doze.
A distant knock interrupted my doze. I resettled and curled up in a different position, pulling the blanket up until all that stuck out was the top bit of my head. Symphonia could get the door, I was busy moping. The knocking came again, faster and more insistent. Again I waited for Symphonia to answer the door, but when the knocking came again just a few short seconds after the first, I bade goodbye to my comfort and stomped out of my bedroom.
“One second,” I said towards the hallway. I took a minute to make sure my mane and coat weren’t complete disasters - listening to the knocking and growing more annoyed all the while - before throwing open the front door.
Any snarky or annoyed comment died at the sight of the white unicorn standing outside, standard grin fixed under her trademark sunglasses. “Heya, Tavi. What’s shakin’?”
I stared at her in shock, my half-asleep brain struggling to process what was happening. Vinyl was there, staring at me like nothing had happened, like I hadn’t snapped at her last night and stormed out on our not-date. “G-Good morning, Vinyl. What… What are you doing here?”
“It’s, like, two.” She smiled at me again. “Can I come in?”
Since I had no way to politely refuse, I stepped aside. She strolled in and headed straight towards the couch in the living area. I followed slowly, building my courage. If she was going to show up today, I might as well take advantage of it. “I-I’m glad you’re here, Vinyl. I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?” Vinyl perched on the couch and watched me for a moment. For a horrible second I thought she was going to make me explain, but it seemed to click. “Oh, about last night? Don’t even worry, filly, I get it. You were tired and I was poking a little too hard. No hard feelings.”
That was it? “But, I—”
Vinyl waved her hoof dismissively. “Nope. Stop. If you really want to make it up to me, come with me to this tonight.”
She fished two small slips of paper from her single saddlebag and floated them over to me. They were tickets to something, and at first I thought it was another play, maybe even the one we’d gone to see the night before. Once they were closer, however, I was able to properly read them. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. I came to talk to you last night, after you left, but Symphonia opened the door. We got to talking, and she told me about how this audition thing has been really getting into your head.”
I made a mental note to kill my roommate, but Vinyl continued before I could think of a way to turn her down politely. “Look, I understand thinking you’re not good enough, but you’ve got something you compare yourself to. Let’s go, together. I’ll suffer right next to you and prove that you’re at least as good as those snobs.”
The tickets floating in front of me were for a quartet from the Canterlot Conservatory, for tonight. Four ponies: a violinist, flutist, pianist, and cellist. I looked slowly over the entire ticket, then over to Vinyl. “I don’t…”
“Please.” She scooted closer and took one of my hooves in her own. “Just one night. I just want to show you how I see you play.”
It was hard to listen to her pleas and turn her down, and I did feel like I owed her something after last night. “Okay, it’s a date.”
She smiled. “Yeah, a date. Hey, I’d love to stick around, but I’ve got some work to do down at the club. I’ll come pick you up around six, okay?”
I agreed and she left me alone so I could panic in peace.
And panic I did, for at least an hour. Although, panic may be a strong word. I definitely was stressed and apprehensive, but if it would placate her, I would do it. Thankfully, I knew exactly where the entrance to the public auditorium our show was, and I had enough fancy dresses for myself and Vinyl several times over. All of that aside, what really scared me was the possibility of being recognized.
Since both of my parents graduated from the Conservatory and were well respected in the classical music community, I was known in the community as well, just from being who I was, and since I looked a lot like Mother, it wasn’t uncommon for me to be mistaken for her. High society was never a place I enjoyed being, which was another reason why I chose Canterlot University over the Conservatory. If I was recognized, I could at least behave properly; a web of unspoken rules that Vinyl had never really grasped. At the end of the day, any embarrassment would just be hot air from ponies I didn’t really care about, but something best avoided.
I spent the last hour before our meeting trying to pick out a suitable dress. It was a tricky prospect finding something fancy enough to be noticeably fancy, but not so much that it would make either of us stick out. I’d turned my attention to thinking of a way to convince Vinyl to leave her glasses behind when somepony knocked at the door again.
Being half in a dress and unable to go answer it myself, I shouted through the open bedroom door, “it’s open, come in!”
The front door clicked open. “Tavi?” Vinyl called out. “Where are you?”
“Bedroom,” I responded, continuing my fight against the dress. Even though I was turned away from the door, I still heard her approach from behind me. “Just trying to find something to wear.”
Feeling the familiar tingle of Vinyl’s magic, I relaxed myself and let the dress be pulled free. She levitated it up against me and nodded. “Yeah, I think this looks good.”
“Really, Vinyl, offering fashion advice now, are w—” I turned to face her, and my jaw dropped. Vinyl stood in the doorway, horn lit, in a very sleek evening dress. Her mane was done simply, and her glasses were nowhere to be seen.
Vinyl smiled, visibly nervous. “It was all Symphonia’s idea,” she blurted. “The dress and concert and stuff. She said I’d need to wear something fancy or we’d get politely ridiculed by the Conservatory snobs. I think that dress looks good, though.”
I’ll admit, I may have been staring. Vinyl shuffled her hooves and dropped my dress. It coiled into a line at my hooves with the soft slither of fabric. “Stop staring, Tavi, you’re gonna make me blush.”
“Sorry,” I stammered, forcing myself to look away. “I’m just not used to seeing you like this. Usually I have to fight you into a dress, not to mention taking your glasses off.”
“We’re going to this thing for you,” she said, voice soft. “If getting all fancy and losing the shades for a night helps, I’m more than happy to.”
I lowered my head, hoping my mane would hide the goofy smile I couldn’t get rid of. I quickly picked up my discarded dress and started wriggling back into it. “I… appreciate it.”
We spent the last half hour before we needed to leave together. I put on my dress, made sure my mane was perfect, and mentally prepared myself to rub fetlocks with the elite of Canterlot. Right on time, Vinyl led me out of the dorm room to a waiting carriage and we left for the Conservatory.
“Are you nervous?” Vinyl asked as the carriage pulled away from the University gates.
“Nervous about watching a performance? I can’t say I am,” I lied. It was more of a half-truth, actually. I wasn’t nervous about the show itself, more about where it was and who was going to be around.
“Hey, y’know if you--” She was interrupted by a bump of the carriage. “If you don’t actually want to go, we can just go do something else.”
I took a moment to consider the offer, but rejected it after some thought. Vinyl had to have gone through a lot of trouble to get tickets at short notice, and it couldn’t have been cheap. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. In fact, if it were anywhere except the Conservatory, I would be overjoyed that you’re taking me to an orchestra recital.”
“Then why--”
Another bump stopped her again, and I cut over her muttered insult to the road workers. “I just worry about all the hot air we’re going to have to sit in.”
Vinyl snorted and smiled. “It’ll be good for you. Like a sauna, but with music.”
“The music should be good at least,” I responded, then turned my attention out the window.
The Conservatory campus reminded me of the theater Father used to perform in, where we’d taken Vinyl before she officially moved in with us. It was a mockery of conservation, seconded only in opulence to Canterlot Castle itself. Unlike the theater however, the school was not in the castle’s shadow. It resided around the curve of the mountainside, right in the middle of the richest district in the city.
Vinyl made a gagging sound as we were ushered to our - very plush and cushioned - seats. “Yuck. I think I might be allergic to fake gold.”
“It’s probably real gold,” I snarked back, happily returning her smile. Just like that, the tight knot of worry in my chest loosened. It wasn’t gone, just not quite as overbearing.
We were forced to speak quietly, so as to not draw the attention of the neighboring ponies. The room was nearly silent, only a few sparse pockets of conversation broke the oppressive nothing. Everything about this show just seemed… off. The ponies in the crowd were silent; the instruments were sitting out on the stage. There was a surprising lack of showmareship in this theater.
The show started with no fuss or fanfare. Since the audience was mostly silent anyway, no buzzer was rung. The four musicians, all unicorns, walked on stage and took their instruments. They all wore the same clothing, and never spoke. I immediately locked onto the cello player, as I usually did. She was tall, slim, and visibly collected.
I didn’t recognize the first song they played, but it was nearly technically perfect. They were perfectly on tempo, the strings players never once so much tilted their bows wrong. The cellist stood perfectly propped up against her instrument, the faint haze of magic barely visible against the cello’s dark wood. Her performance was nearly perfect. It wasn’t hard to see her on Mother’s level of skill in a few short years. But even with all the skill on display, it felt like the show was missing something. It wasn’t something easily quantified, but once I noticed it was hard to hear anything but.
Either way, it was an impressive show of musicianship, even if it was short. After an hour of sitting and a minute or two of polite applause we were done. At least conversation started up again once the quartet was off stage. It was mostly polite compliments on the music and speculation on what was going to be on offer in the atrium, but it was better than the near-silence from before the show. Vinyl and I joined the organized exodus and followed the crowd towards the snack tables.
Though the front doors were open, it would have been rude to simply leave. Vinyl picked out some refreshments while I made polite conversation until we could slip away to one of the many tables set up around the room, thankfully alone.
Vinyl looked around surreptitiously, making sure nopony was near enough to overhear. “So, what did you think?”
I told her exactly what I thought: it was an excellent performance that I didn’t have the dexterity in my hooves to match. The cellist had perfect posture, tempo, everything I’d been struggling to match for years. “But thank you for bringing me, Vinyl. I appreciate what you were trying to do.”
“That’s just it though, that’s all unicorn stuff. Not to be rude, but they’ll always do better than you at the little stuff.”
“Gee, thanks,” I snarked, rolling my eyes.
“Listen.” Vinyl looked around again and spoke quickly, trying to finish before we were ambushed by a group of Conservatory students making the rounds. “That’s all great for them, but you’ve got something different. You play differently because you can’t rely on magic like we do, and that difference makes you sound unique. When you play it sounds just as good, but it gets something because you have to play differently. It’s totally you, and nopony will ever be able to match it.”
I was going to retort, to argue that compensating for my lack of natural ability wasn’t good enough to replicate the type of playing we’d just watched, but I had no time. A fake, high-pitched voice finally made it’s way over to our table. “Is that… it is, isn’t it! Octavia Philharmonica, I never thought I’d see you at one of our little concerts.”
“I was in the neighborhood,” I lied, turning to face the new threat. Vinyl did as well, but I could see a glint in her eye. I repressed a sigh, knowing this conversation was not over.
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Ahh yes, the magic of passion. I guess a special talent for playing the cello is a thing, where your skill is unmatched. Octavia's special talent, however, is making music with the cello, if you see what I'm saying.
Also, another good chapter. It kind of felt a bit out of place because I didn't re-read the last chapter before reading this one (big dumb on my part) so I went back and did that, and I like the flow. I do have to say that there is some missed potential for a pep talk between Vinyl and Octavia when they're walking to the show, I find it odd that they either didn't talk, or we were just not told what they said. I think there just could've been something else added there, since otherwise it is just exposition of: "the did this, went there and did that then...." but in 2 paragraphs. Maybe do something with that? Maybe not? It's fine either way, just trying to add you know?
-Noobblue
10356455
That's a fair point, and I like the idea. Definitely something I might go back and touch up when I've got a free moment.
10356457
Glad to help my friend.
10356458
I have made said addition.
10356652
Oh yeah. That works perfectly. Commendable work.
Binged all of this in one night. I'm going to bed now. Fantastic story. Can't wait for the ending.
Finally I was able to read some chapters, it has been crazy weeks in the job.
10373139
I'm glad to hear it. Last one goes up on Tuesday.