Rondo
Rondo
Frederic’s job at the bar was a steady one. He was good at what he did and the regulars liked him well enough. It was fairly easy—all he needed to do was play tunes with the occasional request, and while sometimes it got a little dull, he was always happy to be at the piano with his thoughts.
His thoughts were still on Octavia and Vinyl Scratch. From what Neon said and Vinyl’s reaction, it seemed that she’d been cheating on Octavia.
Figures the DJ would be the type. He snorted at the thought.
Still, he wondered what would happen. For a moment he had a thought: he could have gone straight to Octavia and told her that her girlfriend was cheating on her. What might that have done? Maybe she’d dump her. Or maybe she wouldn’t believe him and would be mad at him for trying to break them up. He stopped playing as he thought about that. Trying to break them up... It was true: he wanted to tell Octavia about it in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, she’d break up with Vinyl and he might have a chance. But he couldn’t do that – actively try to break them up just so he could get what he wanted.
“You alright?” asked the bartender.
“Oh—Yes, I’m fine,” said Frederic, before he resumed playing.
Instead, he’d decided to give Vinyl the chance to come clean of her own accord. That, in the end, seemed like the right thing to do.
“Hey, piany,” called one of the patrons. Frederic wondered how “piany” existed in any slang at all. “You take requests?”
“I certainly do, if I know the piece,” said Frederic.
“How about ‘My Love and Hers?’” asked the patron.
“I suppose,” said Frederic, failing to hide his lack of enthusiasm.
“Hey, something wrong with my taste in music?” demanded the patron.
“No, no, nothing like that,” said Frederic. “If I don’t like your taste in music I’ll be sure to tell you.” He laughed. “It’s just subject matter, really.”
“Don’t like sad songs?”
“I don’t like love triangles,” he said with a shrug. “Someone always ends up unhappy.”
The bartender placed a malt on top of the piano, as usual. “Sounds like you’re in a bit of a fix like that, yourself. She pretty?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” said Frederic.
***
The coffee was steaming, sending inviting little white wisps into the air. Frederic took a sniff, enjoying the scent. Softly, he blew onto the coffee, which was ostensibly to cool it off but was in reality little more than a force of habit.
Octavia sat across from him, with her own cup of coffee.
“So, what did you think of Vinyl’s club?” she asked.
“I didn’t,” said Frederic, attempting to take a sip. Still too hot. He looked at Octavia and saw that she had raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I couldn’t—it was too loud.”
“Didn’t like it?”
“Hmm,” he mused. “Some of the tunes were… catchy. Vinyl’s partner had a nice light show.”
“Neon?”
“Yes,” said Frederic. “He’s a bit of a lout, really.”
“Well, he’s friendly.”
“I guess that’s one way of putting it,” said Frederic. He tested is coffee for another sip. “I heard the song she did with your cello playing.”
“Oh?”
“It was…” Frederic searched for a word. “Interesting. And—don’t use that one ‘witty’ quip of hers.”
Octavia laughed. The bell to the coffee shop opened and she looked up.
“Good afternoon, Vinyl.”
Fred’s ears pricked up as he turned around to see Vinyl Scratch walk awkwardly into the coffee shop, as though she had taken a deep breath just before opening the door.
“Hey, Octa.”
Frederic found himself wonder again just what kind of pet name was Octa?
“Is something wrong, Vin?” Octavia asked.
Frederic stood up. “I have to use the bathroom,” he said, stepping away from his seat. “Be back in a minute.” He gave a blank look to Vinyl, who sat down in the seat next to his.
“Octa, I have to tell you something…”
Frederic didn’t listen. He didn’t want to listen. He just marched straight into the bathroom, shut the door, and walked right up to the sink. He put his hooves on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror.
So, he thought, she took my advice. I wonder what that means now? Will Octavia leave her? Will she forgive her? What if Vinyl cheats on her again? What if…?
He saw another pony standing next to him, also staring at the mirror. Frederic turned at looked at him, wondering just what he was doing.
“Um,” said Frederic.
“Is this one of those 3D mirrors where if you stare at them for a long time you see a cool picture?”
“I don’t think those exist.”
“Oh…” The stranger paused and then turned to exit.
Frederic looked back at himself in the mirror. Dull, pathetic, self-pitying himself. He shook his head, mentally berating himself for the lovesick stupor he’d gotten himself into.
Gathering himself and taking a deep breath, he walked out of the bathroom. He stood in the doorway for a while, looking over at the table. Vinyl’s head was low, and Octavia’s hoof was on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Any hopes Frederic had of having what he wanted were dwindling by the second.
Or perhaps those hopes were never there. Just dreams.
He walked back up to the table, his expression as vacant and unflappable as ever.
“I’ll do anything, Octavia...”
“It’s okay,” said Octavia.
“I want this to work,” pleaded Vinyl, “I want us to work. I’ll never... I’ll never lie to you or go behind your back ever again. I swear.”
“I know,” said Octavia, putting her hoof on Vinyl’s. “We’ll make it work.”
“Sorry about that,” said Frederic, sitting down. He pretended to ignore them and returned to his coffee.
***
Evening came again, and he was back at the bar. There was one thing he was grateful for: his paycheck.
“Thank you,” he said.
“No problem,” said the bartender. “Glad ta have you working here.”
“I’m glad to have a job,” said Frederic.
There were fewer patrons tonight than there usually were. They were likely at the Wonderbolts show. Frederic had never bothered with them as he wasn’t much of a sports pony. Athletic displays bored him.
Frederic played out on the piano. He was a bit more lethargic than usual, though, lazily plunking out a melody with simple block root position chords beneath.
“Something wrong, buddy?” asked the bartender. “You seem a bit tired.”
The pianist looked up, surprised and a bit irritated that he’d let his composure slip.
“I’m fine,” said Frederic. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
“I’ll bet,” said the bartender. “Like that concert thing with the Brams.”
“Brahmas,” corrected Frederic. “And no, that’s been cancelled.”
“Naaaaaw,” said the bartender in disbelief.
“Yaaaaaaaw,” replied Frederic. “Things just don’t always go my way,” he sighed. “There will be other performances, anyway. I’m giving a recital at the Canterlot Music Conservatory in a few weeks. Maybe I can do the Brahmas there. Of course, that’ll mostly be attended by bored music students looking for their concert attendance credit. Still, at least they applaud.”
“Well, here’s hoping for good luck,” said the bartender.
“Here’s hoping.”
***
Frederic walked out of the theatre side-by-side with Ovation, who was high-strung, muttering rapidly to herself and shaking.
“Think I did okay?” she asked.
“I think so,” said Frederic.
“I hope I get called back. And that I get the part.”
Frederic chuckled. “Well, we’ll hope for that. Just don’t get the hopes up too high.”
Ovation looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Just what does that mean?”
“Nothing,” said Frederic. “Just... don’t get your hopes up too high. It’s just a safeguard against disappointment.”
“Well that’s a pretty crummy way of looking at things,” she said. “I mean, we wouldn’t be in this line of work if we didn’t have our hopes up.”
Frederic stopped. He had to pause and think about that. “I suppose...” he said, resuming his walk. “But really, you did well. I think you practiced a lot more than those other mares, which gives you an advantage.”
“Well, thanks,” said Ovation. She looked at him. “You’re real big on the ‘not getting disappointed’ thing, aren’t you?”
“I’ve always been fond of the philosophy of stoicism,” said Frederic. “I don’t let emotions get to me. It keeps me from getting angry, or upset, or let down...”
“That can’t be healthy,” she said, “letting all those emotions bottle up without letting them out...”
“Actually,” said Frederic, “it’s not healthy to lash out if you get angry. It just makes you more prone to doing it.”
Ovation paused and thought about that. “Well... I guess,” she conceded, “but still...”
“We’ll see if you get the callback,” said Frederic. “Be sure to let me know, okay?”
“Sure thing, Fred,” said Ovation.
“Hey!” shouted a loud voice. “Fred!”
The two ponies stopped and turned around to find a very cheerful black earth pony beaming at them.
“Heya Fred!” called Ritardando again.
“Hello,” said Frederic.
“Friend of yours?” asked Ovation.
“...Yes,” said Frederic.
Ritardando trotted up to them. “I was hoping I’d bump into you!” Then, as though he’d forgotten what he was about to say, he turned to Ovation. “Hi, I’m Ritardando.”
“Ovation,” she said. “You a singer?”
“Yep!”
“Me too,” she said. “Just auditioned for a musical.”
“Ooh, which one?”
“Princess Rose.”
“Ooooooh,” said Ritardando, “I love that one.” He took a breath and started to sing. “I had a dreeeeam...”
Ovation laughed. “Yeah, I actually auditioned with that song.”
“And if it wasn’t for me, then where would you be, miss DJ Pon-3?”
“What?” Frederic asked.
“Sweet Harmony,” said Ritardando. “She...”
“Oh, okay...” Frederic blinked and shook his head, not sure what just happened. “I think I need to get home. Get some sleep.” He looked at Ritardando. “So I’ll be seeing you at your usual time next week?”
“Oh yeah, that,” said Ritardando. “No.”
Frederic stopped walking. “No?”
“Well, yeah,” said Ritardando. “I mean no. I’m leaving.”
There was a round of silence as he stood there, cheerful as ever, while Frederic tried to process the bluntness of that statement and Ovation didn’t know him enough to care.
“Where to?” she asked.
“I dunno,” said Ritardando. “Just gonna get on that road and go. Or maybe the train. Trains are fun.”
“What, you’re just gonna pack up and wander out of town?” Frederic asked.
“Uh-huh,” Ritardando said. “So yeah, no coaching this week, okay?”
***
Patrons were asking for slightly ‘edgier’ songs, which was fine by him. With Ritardando inexplicably leaving town, that was another dent in his income. Granted, coaching sessions didn’t amount to much, but that was another new gap in his schedule where he wasn’t doing anything and he wasn’t making money, and it was yet another frustration amidst other frustrations — the cancelled concert, Octavia...
“Hey, gimme one of those cranapple things. That’s a funny word.”
Frederic looked up. No, not here...
Vinyl Scratch had just walked into his usual place of work, alongside Octavia. She looked over and waved at Frederic.
“Heya, piany,” she said.
“Good evening,” said Frederic. “Never expected to see you two here,” he said.
“Oh, friends of ol’ Freddy here?” asked the bartender.
“Yes,” said Octavia. “I’m a close colleague of his.”
“Well, ain’t that fantastic?” asked the bartender.
“I’ll say,” said Vinyl.
“Yes...” said Frederic. “Fan-tast-ic.”
Octavia and Vinyl ordered their drinks as Frederic continued to pound out the patron’s requests. Vinyl seemed to have struck up a lively conversation with a fellow patron as Octavia mostly kept to herself, drinking cider. As Frederic played, she looked over at him.
“Why don’t you play one of your sonatas?” she asked. “You’ve got some memorized, right?”
“Hey, that sounds like a neat idea,” said the bartender. “Show us one o’ your fancy things?”
“Sure, I can take fancy,” said Vinyl.
Frederic looked from them back to the piano. Figures that the classical musician would ask the other classical musician to, well, play classical music. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt slightly uneasy about that. Still, a request was a request.
He decided to play a Most Art sonata. It was fairly typical, it started off bright — simple, but flashy, sure to impress a casual crowd. Lots of running notes, scales, things that sounded impressive but weren’t particularly difficult, especially with practice. He finished on a V-I cadence, and the other ponies applauded.
Frederic’s expression, however, remained unchanged, and he simply moved on to the second movement. It was the slow movement, less impressive than the first, but more lyrical. Rather than giving a dazzling display of fast notes, it gave off a feeling of serene calmness that silenced the entire room.
Finally came the third movement—more like the first, fast and dazzling, but with a stronger punch to it, more challenging, more punishing if one were to miss a note. It was the true climax of the sonata. When the ending came the room was filled with silence. Then, applause.
He looked down at the keys. “Not good enough,” he said. “Haven’t played that in a while. Rusty. Missed some things.”
“Naaw,” said the bartender, “that was great!”
“There’s a difference between modesty and selling yourself short, you know,” said Octavia. Frederic looked at her with a pained expression.
“I don’t like... ‘tooting my own horn,’” he said, “it’s not proper.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to beat on yourself,” said Vinyl. “Like, man, you should sue that piano teacher of yours for psychological damage and stuff. That can’t be healthy.”
“Maybe...” said Frederic.
“Dude, you’ve been really down in the dumps lately,” said the bartender. “Something eating you?”
“Nothing ‘eats’ me,” said Frederic, displaying a distaste for figurative language.
“Come on,” said Vinyl, “play another!”
Frederic grimaced, but it was still his job. So he played another piece. When that was over, the patrons requested another, and another, and another. Frederic wondered why he wasn’t enjoying it more, though. Classical piano was infinitely more satisfying to play than usual pop fare, and the pieces were longer, meaning they made the time pass more quickly.
Maybe it was the fact that Vinyl Scratch was the one making him do it. That was it. It was the fact that the last pony he wanted on his mind was the one coming into his place of work. And she was appreciating his craft of all things. He knew it wasn’t true, but in some self-loathing corner of his mind he felt like he saw her sneering, taunting at him, rubbing it all in.
After the fifth piece, he found that most of the bar patrons had left.
“Hey, what about those ballads?” asked Vinyl.
“Ballades, Vin,” said Octavia.
“Why do you classicalist ponies all pronounce things differently?”
Frederic rolled his eyes and leaned over to his bag. He grumbled quietly to himself as he rummaged through all his loose sheet music. Finally, he found the Brahmas book…
“Oh, dirthorn!” exclaimed Vinyl, having finally found the clock. “I’m late to meet with Neon!” She scrambled to get up. “Love ya Octa,” she said, kissing her on the cheek before bolting out of the door.
Frederic sat there, staring at the cover of the Brahmas book.
“See?” asked Octavia, “She can appreciate the music we play.” Frederic, however, didn’t respond. “Frederic? Are you alright?”
Frederic slowly opened the Brahmas book to the beginning of the first Ballade. “When do I get my turn?” he asked.
“Frederic, it’s not your fault they cancelled the concert...”
“But you got your concert. Ovation is getting her musical. Vinyl doesn’t seem to be hurting for gigs. Harpo, Brass, Pizzicato, they all seem to be doing fine. Where does that leave me?”
Octavia wasn’t sure how to respond. With a pony this mopey, careful wording was needed.
“Look,” she said, “this isn’t an easy line of work. But we don’t do it because it’s successful.” She walked over to him, reading the music over his shoulder. “We do it because it’s beautiful and we love it.”
“Because we love it...” Frederic repeated. “I don’t like loving things.”
“That’s absurd, Frederic.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re happy with what you love,” said Frederic. “But I don’t get anything out of it. It just hurts. What’s the point of loving if it only hurts?”
Frederic silenced himself, just staring at the music. Everything was coming together – the music, the mare he loved, everything that made him feel let down. He and Octavia sat there in silence for a few minutes.
“I think,” said Octavia at length, “that sometimes we have to hurt a little. It’s the only way we can grow.” Frederic didn’t say anything. “This isn’t just about that concert, is it?”
“Well, it’s part of it...”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Octavia sighed. “It’ll get better, Frederic. You’ll get your turn. It might not be for a while, but then it might be sooner than you think. In the meantime you have your piano and you have your friends. You’ll always have those. Hey...”
Frederic looked at her.
“Smile once in a while, okay?” she asked, smiling gently at him.
“I’ll try,” he said, closing the book and looking down at the cover, still stewing in his self-pity. And he thought to himself that maybe there was a reason that Vinyl had won and not him.
“I haven’t been honest with you...” he said. “Octavia, I love you.”
There was no response. He looked up and found that the bar was empty; Octavia had left.
A cheerful bit of whistling broke the silence as the bartender came out of the bathroom.
“Well, everypony’s gone,” he said. “Time to pack up.” He stopped, noticing Frederic’s forlorn expression. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
“I-I’m fine,” said Frederic.
“You sure? I gotta lock up.”
“R-right, right...” Frederic hastily shoved the book into his bag and marched out the front door.
He stood out in front of the door, staring out into the dark, cold Canterlot night. The streets were empty, with not even a breeze to betray life in the city. For the first time he found himself rattled and scared by the night.
What’s wrong with me? he wondered to himself. As his heart began to race, all he wanted was to get home. He galloped through the streets, not paying attention to anything but the path right in front of him, straight back to his apartment.
When he finally arrived home, he threw open the door and looked inside. Everything was still, calm, the only noise being his breathing and heartbeat. He leaned against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor.
What’s wrong with me? he asked again. Oh, no... I’m having a meltdown... He clenched his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He had come so close to... something. He wasn’t sure what it was, and it scared him. It shook him and made him feel like he’d never get a grip on his thoughts again.
He’d nearly told Octavia how he felt. If she hadn’t left she’d have known everything, and then what? Frederic didn’t know.
He opened his eyes again. There was his apartment, and there was his piano. Realizing that he looked like an utter fool, he stood up and closed the door, bolting it shut. Slowly, he approached the piano. He sat down at the bench, opened the lid on the keys, and looked at the empty stand. He looked down at his hooves already at the keys.
He wondered to himself if there was some sort of revelation there. Maybe there was. Maybe he’d figure it out. For now, however, he had his piano, and somehow that clunky little upright gave him a sense of grounding.
THE END
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The end? But...not finished! Where's the closure?! I...RAGE!
Can't pass up this one
Dude... It's over?
Oh well... I guess if you say so... Fuck man I feel depressed.
Gotta agree with primalcorn, it seems to lack closure.
Welp that ending came out of nowhere. Good story though.
I feel like an elliot reed ending would be appropriate here, "and then he hung himself."
Before the reading:
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD
It's Finally HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dang, bummer ending. And I like it. Some hopes and dreams never come to fruition. Some stories never have closure. After story upon story that have some glimmer of light at the end, this is a surprisingly nice change. Puts things in perspective; you gotta see the absolute melancholy to truly appreciate the hopeful.
Well done author. Well done
"Octavia, i love you."
WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-
*next line*
Aw *squee* no!
Oh well, a bit anti-climatic but stuck true to it's tags.
GGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!
I liked the story, but I feel like you could do some much more with it.
Man, that was kinda depressing, I was rather worried about Freddie by the time I reached the end.
I like self-pity and all but not without some kind of resolution. That just left me feeling cold.
Nice story anyway.
Wait wait wait. It ENDS here? Well, I suppose not everyone gets a happy ending. Still, sucks to leave him hanging dry with a diminishing source of income, the object of his affection taken by a pony that isn't him, his concert cancelled, etc. Great story mind you, but closure is one of the most important parts of a story; it just feels lacking to have it stop here. Any chance of a sequel of is this the end of Frederic's story?
Wait "The End"!? What!?
Kind of disappointing to end it there but I can see where you were going. Great story. I loved every moment of it which makes it sad to see it end.
Props to you for sticking to it, even when you had to expect a revolt when Freddie didn't come out on top in the end. Sometimes you need an existential ending just to shake yourself out of the tropes. I've been reading too many fics lately where everything just always works out, even the bleakest fics turning themselves around into rainbows and sunshines and happy little ships. Sometimes life just sucks, nothing changes, no one has a miraculous insight into your misery that sets the wheels of dramatic convenience turning, and everyone just goes on ignorant of your pain. I can't say I wasn't hoping for at least some bone to get thrown his way though, whether it be by Octi, his career, or personal growth allowing him to move on. That's just not how it goes sometimes.
I did keep thinking it was the perfect time for the old pony from The Descendant's "Tangled Up in Blues" to wander in and commiserate with a two bit tip and a heartfelt "You poor bastard..."
LKFDJLKGBJBN.KZJNBKHJFDANBGK/GJBKSN.BJ.ZBKMX/FCK.HNGSXZNK B.,VMHZFBGK
As much as I don't like sad endings I agree that "in a love triangle someone always ends up unhappy."
The little cliffhanger involving Vinyl and Octavia did get me wondering and honestly I would have been happy either way this story ended, well not happy but satisfied. I like VinylTavia but recently I've developped a taste for Frederic and Octavia due to a very good artist friend of mine and his portayals of them. I do admit that things are going downhill for Frederic and sadly with things the way they are he's likely not going to get much of a break.
I know this obseration's been made a million times but Frederic reminds me a lot of Billy Joel's Piano Man song, both the actual song and the situation that Billy Joel was in in the time described in the song. Maybe he'll get a break, or find someone else but sadly I don't think he'll ever be able to let go of Octavia. I hate to say this but I have the sad feeling that Fred's going to be alone for the rest of his life, unless Vinyl died but I don't want that to happen.
Normally I can't stand downer endings but here I'll make and exception because it's personal and very moving rather than jsut apocalyptic and derpessing. Good on you and keep writing.
meldowns are fun. i get 3 meltdowns each day
Fuck closure, get real. Mad props for such a gutsy ending, and thank you for finally completing this. Still the best piece of fan fiction I've ever encountered.
New form of ending... Well, it's certainly good, but I think that what a lot of other people are saying about the closure is true.
Yes, a lot of fics end somewhat similar, but this story set up quite a few things, so perhaps it would be best to conclude some of it...
But if this is just meant to be a slice of life for Freddy, then this might work...
Now, enough of the sad stuff! I loved this story! Freddy really doesn't get enough attention!
-Glassed
I had just finished Mass Effect 3 a few hours ago, and was depressed for the entire time. When I saw the update on this, I suddenly began to hope that Frederic would get the happy ending Shepard wasn't allowed to have....
Yeah, I'm just more depressed now
not sure if like the characterization of Vinyl on this one, but otherwise a good story.
poo Fred
Hmm.
I'm honestly not sure what to think of this. On the one hand, yes, this is how those things tend to play out. On the other though, this still is the MLP verse, which does call for a tad more optimism and hope than is present here.
I'm torn. But I didn't take issue with the ending; sometimes the story doesn't end, it just moves on. Kudos for the courage to end it on this unhappy a note. It's not bad (it's actually fairly good), but bleak downer endings (and considering that nigh-Jobian parade of misfortune raining down on the guy, you can't call it anything else) aren't what I read MLP fanfic for.
So yeah. Not my cup of tea, but I can see the intention behind it, and the execution was great. Thumbs up, but no fave.
DAFUQ?
Sorry dude but i can't forgive no-closure endings, it seems like you either gave up or ran out of plot.
I personally think your skill is to great for either to be the case. regardless T-down until some sort of resolution.
Feels bad man
Well, that's... quite a reaction.
In any case, I might include very brief epilogue. Obviously it won't make the ending happy, but it might make it a bit more like an ending and a bit less like a stop. Might do that.
A little surprised - I intended the ending to be melancholy, but blimey, I seem to have stumbled on downright depressing.
345676 "Melancholy" would imply a sense of ... I don't know, rightness (for lack of a better term). No life is all sunshine and flowers, and sometimes it feels good to just wallow in misery, contradictory as that may sound. But Frederic doesn't come across like that here. He seems to dream of some kind of alternative to the pain he's going through, and that undercuts any attempt at melancholy. He's not resigned to his fate (unless that final sentence implies something along those lines), yet he doesn't see any other way it could have gone. He hasn't found happiness in misery. That's not melancholic, that's hopeless - a fine line, to be sure, but he's definitely on the wrong side. (Of course, having people judge this fic who are accustomed to happy, or at least bittersweet, endings will skew the perception further. This is an MLP:FiM fanfic site, not a discussion forum for Aki Kaurismäki movies.
)
I wish I had any way of knowing how to resolve this issue, but I guess sometimes the mood in a story just doesn't play along with the author's intentions. It's happened to me, in what little I've written, and it seems to have happened to you here. Don't let it discourage you.
If you want to write an epilogue, go for it. In my opinion, it works damned perfect as is and doesn't actually need any addendum. But hey, if you add to it, that's always more to read
I know how ya feel Freddy
3.bp.blogspot.com/_yNBEmr8Zzzs/Sm9d7K110iI/AAAAAAAAAqM/m9321oex3Yw/s400/DISAPPROVE..bmp Complete? Really? This story is a lot of things. Well written, well paced, well characterized, but complete? Hells-to-the-naw. Frederic's story is not over, yo.
Gah!
As much as i liked this story
I have to say i feel a lack of closure and it just makes me feel depressed
Was hoping for at least a glimmer of hope at the end there
It didn't have to be a radical turn of events,
I don't mind if stories end on a sad note
but even some sort of realization that made him happy
would suffice
That was a heavy chapter. I feel that a epilogue would not be necessary, but, I can see why people are bummed out, they want some form of closure, not an open ending left to the imagination.
345676
I don't think it's really all that depressing, but it does feel incomplete.
The important thing to consider is that this isn't Frederic's complete life story. Just a part of his life, over the course of a week or so. This just happened to be a part of Frederic's life that wasn't going very well, a period where he simply can't get what he wants and, more importantly, isn't honest with himself about how he feels due to a misapplication of the admirable stoic philosophy.
I don't see the ending as that bleak. Sure, it's sad - he doesn't get the girl, he doesn't get the gig, and he has a meltdown. But he's still living. He still has his piano, he still has friends who care about him, and he still has his music. He doesn't have a revelation yet because A. he's a little too rattled to think clearly, and B. I couldn't really think of a good one. The thing is, his shell cracked and he couldn't hold everything out. It got to him, and it scared him. But he'll be okay. He's hurt, and now it's time for him to grow. But that's another part of his life.
In any case, I'm very thankful to all my readers. The story should go up on Equestria Daily in a few days, possibly with an epilogue. And yes, I do have a sequel planned.
You could cook up a tiny little epilogue where it's stated bluntly... thing is, all that stuff was "realized for him" inside the story, and that's part of why the open-ended finale delivered so well - leaving the readers with their own thoughts, free to shed whatever amount of manly tears they see fit to shed, before that realization sets in. You point your audience towards the piano and leave them to walk the finishing stretch. The story keeps working from beyond, in a way.
I'm in the minority though, so go ahead and do your thing if you feel it's necessary. I'm pretty sure you won't bust the entire narrative with a triumphant, sun-basked coda, and it may deliver the more easily identifiable ending that people seem to crave.
I know I'm in the minority here but I appreciate the way the story ended, not "like" but like I said before it works and despite not being happy with it I am satisfied. Some stories need sad endings and honestly I do see this as bittersweet rather than downer the more I think about it. Sure Frederic is having a run of bad times but he's still alive and he thankfuly didn't succumb to any temptations to forcefully ruin Octavia and Vinyl's relationship, he took the high road and while he may not have gained anything he did the right thing and that's the thing, doing the right thing often leaves us without any physical rewards, in real life anyway, I can think of several situations in my life where if I had decided to not be honest about something then I could have walked away with something larger than I recieved but I knew somehow it would come back to haunt me, I don't regret taking the high road and being honest about things even if it left me with less of a reward than I wanted or none at all, being a good person in reality often comes with a lot of self-sacrifice and a lot of what ifs, wondering if maybe you'd have more or be happier if you'd just let your morals slips just that once.
But I'm getting too introspective here. I'm happy to hear that there's a sequel, though I'm not quite sure what it could entail this story works and I can appreciate what went into it even with the sad ending.
However this has made me think and desire something, not from you specifically but rather from a story in general: I want someone to write a good Octravia/Frederic story. I have an artist friend on DA, StarryOak, who pairs those two yet he hasn't gotten around to doing any substantial writing yet so all I can guess at is what I can glean from his art.
So yeah, now I ship Octavia with both Vinyl and Fred, or I would if I could write a story about those couples.
Well done. It takes balls to end a story like that and I approve.
I don't have to type into a comment what I feel, many others have already done this for me. Also, Billy has already heard my Detest to this ending.
And Billy has also given me the sword with which to slay my grief: Continuance...
I may not agree with the ending not because it's terrible but because of how fitting, how realistic it is. Your really talented, I was on edge waiting for an update and you got me back in to fan fiction thanks for the great story
Out of curiosity, how come you called it a V-I cadence? Wouldn't it have been easier to just call it a perfect cadence?
Hey, now, saying it like it should have five syllables is uncalled for, don't you think?
That monster.
I have two problems with this ending: that it ended here, and that it didn't end here. I don't want it to end like this, but I do, since this is the way it should end, the way it has to end. I am very dubious about the epilogue.
I like this story a lot. Missed opportunities, wondering when your big chance will come, stuff like that always grabs me. Fave, upvote and a watch from me.