Quiet

by bahatumay

Chapter 7

Vinyl opened the door and gestured, inviting Muffins in.

She smiled and stepped inside. She glanced around, realizing that the house didn’t smell like anything and the kitchen was dark. “I was half expecting Octavia to bake something today, too,” she admitted.
Vinyl cracked a wry smile as she pulled out her phone. The pizza last time had been fun, yes; but there was a reason she had suggested this day for their next Quiet time.
>She’s gone for the week. Orchestra competition.

Muffins nodded, making a small noise of acknowledgement.

Her stomach then made a sound of its own. She grinned sheepishly.

Vinyl winced. It hadn't occurred to her that Muffins might be expecting to eat here. She didn't want to keep her hungry.
>I'm sure we've got snacks around here.
>I know we have chips.
She was going to list more snacks they had, but she was drawing a blank, so she sent it. She clicked her tongue. Maybe she should spend a little more time in the kitchen.

Muffins looked down, considering this, then looked up. “Do you want to bake something?” she offered.

Vinyl blinked. She cocked her head, curious at the invitation, and she couldn't suppress a little grimace. Octavia was the one who knew her way around the kitchen, not her. She only got invited in to taste test. And to do dishes. She lifted her phone to send a sheepish message.
>I'm a disaster in the kitchen.

Muffins smiled. “Well, everyone has to start somewhere.” Her eyes brightened. “Want me to show you my muffin recipe?”

Vinyl shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant and not come across as demanding, but she felt her heart rate start to rise. Having fresh muffins here was an intriguing concept. Very intriguing.

“Muffins are quicker and easier to make than most people think,” she said, warming to the idea. “Do you think she'd mind?”

Honestly? Probably. Octavia liked her kitchen organized, and Vinyl had no idea where anything was.

But even more honestly, she would gladly handle an annoyed Octavia in exchange for muffins. She gave her a thumbs up.

---

Vinyl tapped the side of the measuring up against the mixing bowl to get all the baking powder out. Somehow, Muffins had found everything she needed, which was really cool. She hadn't expected it, but she found herself having fun. This whole baking thing wasn't quite as scary as she’d thought. She turned to Muffins and gave her another thumbs up.

Muffins nodded and turned on the mixer.

Vinyl watched the beaters spin.

Actually, that had a nice rhythm. She began bobbing her head, shaking her shoulders along in time.

Muffins giggled and joined in.

Before long, they were dancing in the kitchen like a couple of dorks.

And then Muffins quickly reached over and turned the mixer off. “Don't want to overmix it,” she said knowingly.

Vinyl had no idea why that was wrong or what that would do, but she nodded in agreement anyway.

---

Vinyl took a bite and closed her eyes as the hot, fresh muffin flavor danced in her mouth. This was fantastic. Amazing. Glorious. She didn’t think they could get any better and this time they were fresh and warm and honestly she could eat only this for the rest of her life and…

Well, maybe not just muffins. That might get old eventually. But still. Nothing could ruin this moment.

And then Muffin’s alarm went off.

Vinyl’s eyes went wide. Well, that could. Where had the time gone? She whipped out her phone.
>Sorry we never got to do the soundbooth thing.

Muffins smiled. “No, it's fine! This was fun. I had fun.”

Vinyl nodded. She sounded sincere; hopefully she was. She definitely felt like she had come out on top of this whole situation.

“Besides, I can always come over another time.”

Vinyl nodded again, feeling herself breaking into a little smile. That sounded good to her.

As she closed the door behind Muffins, she looked at the muffin left on the table. She thought for a moment.

---

Pinkie held her headphones on just one ear as she bobbed her head to the music.

“Uh. Uh. Aw, yeah.
You know, it's a piece of cake, to bake a tasty cake, / the kind of tasty cake my own mother used to make.
Gotta start with the flour, I believe in flower power / hope that these discount daisy flowers are the flower of the hour.
Gotta separate the eggs, are they fighting or something? / You're in time out now, eggs, grounded, gotta spend all night in.”

Vinyl smiled as she took a bite of the cookie. This song was nothing but bad baking puns, and she was still cracking up about it. Pinkie had noticed her writing, and, well, one thing had led to another, and now she was recording it (and had come with treats).
Finally, she made it to the last lines.

I wanted something tasty, but I just ended up sad / because instead of baked goods, all I got were baked bads.

Pinkie accentuated this last line with a realistic, queasy groan.

Vinyl hunched over as a little shiver ran up her back. She hadn’t asked for that, but it had been perfectly fitting, and definitely in-character for Pinkie. She gave Pinkie a thumbs up through the glass. Nailed it!

Pinkie stepped out. “That was fun!” she said, swishing her skirt as if she wasn't accustomed to standing still, which was probably accurate. "Not bad for a beat based on the sounds of a KitchenMix 350.”

Vinyl cocked her head, looking incredulously at Pinkie. Of course she'd known that, but how had she known that?

Pinkie giggled. “It’s a good mixer! Small, though. Stop by the diner and I’ll show you the sick beats of the Mixatron 3000,” she finished, her voice deepening like she was announcing a professional wrestler. She made an approximation of the noise with her mouth as she rolled her hips in a circle, as if imitating the mixer’s movements.

Vinyl chuckled silently. Pinkie was very excitable.

Pinkie giggled. “Let me know when you release it! We’ll have a release party.”

Vinyl held her fingers together. Very small party. Being able to just upload songs and have them be available for streaming worldwide made it a bit of a less momentous occasion than it might otherwise have been, and honestly, she didn't feel like that was worth a party.

Not that she’d decline a cupcake or anything, if Pinkie was offering.

But it did feel like it was worth sharing with Muffins. As soon as Pinkie disappeared, she pulled out her phone, eager to share.

---

Vinyl’s phone lay face up on the table, as she lay face down next to it. She let out a silent groan. Try as she might, she could think of no way to say this without coming across as bragging or self-aggrandizing.

How did normal people do this?

She hated talking about herself. She hated that she was pressuring herself for no reason. She hated small talk. She usually let her music do the talking.

She lifted her head slightly. That might work.

After a little more uncertain attempts, she typed out what she thought was a decent message. She sent the link to the song and added a small explanation.
>Hey, I wrote a song about baking, want to hear it?

She watched the phone for a response, even though she knew full well that she didn’t even know if Muffins had her phone with her, or if she could listen. The screen finally darkened, leaving her looking at her own reflection. She set it down and sighed. Maybe she could see her phone, but couldn’t listen. Maybe she was in a crowded store. Maybe she was at a sporting event. Maybe she-

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly picked it up.

>>🤣
>>Did you write this?

>Pinkie helped.

>>Lol! Baked bads that's great 💯

Vinyl smiled.
>Thanks.
>It made me laugh, too.
>I'm not exactly gifted in the kitchen.

>>You did fine with me! 😁

>You think so?
>Let's be honest, though. That was all you.

>>Did Octavia mine? 😬
>>*mind.
>>I don't think she grabbed a ⛏️

Vinyl laughed silently.
>Nope! She ate a few.
>Definitely a fan.

>>I noticed you never use emojis 🤨

Vinyl shrugged, even though she knew Muffins couldn't see.
>I learned to type on old school phones, way before emojis were a thing. Just never got in the habit, I guess.

Muffins sent a reply.

Vinyl frowned.
>Got a box. What was it supposed to be?

>>You haven’t updated your operating system yet? 😬

Vinyl bobbed her head as she responded.
>The new design turns the call buttons into circles and I like the bars.

>>Bars?
>>Oh wait
>>That was two versions ago? 😳

Vinyl shrugged.
>I think the bars look better.

>>That’s a log of security holes. What if someone hacks your phone? 🙈

Vinyl snorted.
>There’s nothing here.
>Like my daily conversations? Boring.
>What are they going to do, blackmail me over the kinds of tampons I asked Octavia for?
Vinyl clicked her tongue, cringing as she reread that message. Maybe that was too much. She tried to bring it back.
>Now, if someone stole my notebook, then I'd be concerned.
>I keep all my lyrics in there.

>>You write a lot of songs?

>I try.
>Mostly just whenever something sounds good, I write it down.
>Got a lot of half-baked songs floating around.

>>Well, I thought this one was fully baked. 😁🍰

Vinyl smiled, feeling oddly relaxed.
>So, you know anything about leaves?

---

Vinyl hung upside down off the edge of her bed, typing. Her cheeks hurt a bit from how much smiling she was doing. They’d moved off of lyrics a while ago; now, they were just talking about nothing.

A motion from the side of her eye made her look up.

Octavia stood in the doorway. She looked at the phone in her hand, the notebook at her side, and she made the connection immediately. She clenched her fists together excitedly, smiling widely.

Vinyl narrowed her eyes and quickly switched conversations.
>Not one word.

“Come now, Vinyl,” she urged. ”You’re talking, you’re smiling; I know a first crush when I see it!”

Vinyl got up, walked to the door, and maintained deliberate eye contact with her as she shut it. She went to lay back down. Octavia didn’t need to make things weird.

She could do just fine at that herself.