Duet
“No no no, Vinyl, that’s simply too much!”
Vinyl Scratch was still banging her head, lost in the bone-crushing beats as her electric blue mane lashed about face as though it were trying to escape the iron-clad grasp of her headphones.
“Vinyl! VINYL!!” Octavia shouted, storming over to the turntable.
At last, Vinyl looked up from her turntable and killed the music as she removed her headphones and met Octavia’s angry gaze.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Then she noticed Octavia’s gritted teeth, her hard stare, and the bulging veins in her forehead. “Oh… too much?”
“Yes! Finally!” Octavia groaned, throwing her hooves in the air. “This is supposed to be a duet, but you’re making the drop the feature of the entire piece!”
“I mean… that’s kinda the point, Octy,” Vinyl said. “You get a rhythm going, you build up, you increase the tempo, and then you get the climax!”
Octavia narrowed her eyes.
“See, it’s kinda like the other night when I did that thing where—”
“Enough!” Octavia shrieked, her cheeks coloring. Then she paused. “Though, admittedly, that was quite a thrilling evening…”
Vinyl smirked.
Then Octavia shook her head, freeing herself from her reverie. “No no, I won’t be distracted! Vinyl, we are performing a piece for the Hearth’s Warming concert here in Ponyville, and they asked for both of us to perform! This feels like… like…”
Vinyl stared back at her. Behind the purple of her shades, Octavia could just tell that she was blinking obliviously.
“Look, I just mean that the drop is all about you!”
“Aw, c’mon, Tavi, that’s not—”
There was a loud knock at the door.
“Ugh, is that the neighbors complaining about the noise again?!” Vinyl groaned. “I’m so sick of them! ‘Blah blah, it’s too loud!’ And ‘Blah blah, the dishes in my cupboards keep falling out!’ and ‘Blah blah blah, please for the love of Celestia, the doctor says my tinnitus could become permanent!’”
“Look, never mind that, I’m trying to—”
The knocking came again, this time more fiercely than before.
“Ugh, never mind! I’ll get it!”
Octavia went to the door and practically ripped it off its hinges as she opened it.
“What the bloody hell do you want?!” she bellowed.
Derpy stood there in her mailmare uniform, blinking in her uneven gaze. “Is… is this a bad time? I have a telegram, but…”
Octavia immediately blushed and put a hand to her chest as she took a calming breath. “Ah… no, I’m terribly sorry. We were just rehearsing our piece for… no, no, never mind. You said you had a telegram?”
“I do!” Derpy cried, fluttering into the air enthusiastically. “It’s… oh, wait, it’s actually a singing telegram!”
Octavia winced. “No, that’s all right, you can just—”
Derpy ignored her and took out a kazoo, lifting it to her lips and playing a tone to tune herself.
“♪Ahhh ♪ ah ♪ ah ♪ ah!♪” Derpy began.
“Really, I’m in the middle of something, so if you could just give me the note, then—”
Derpy took flight, holding the note just out of reach as she began to sing:
“Ohhhh,
Tavi, dear Tavi, this is a letter from your mother!
She is the one who loves you more than any other!
Bring yourself to Canterlot!
There’s no need to pack a lot!
Bring yourself and just a cello,
And do not disappoint your fellows!
Cannot wait to see your face,
Love, your mother, Larga Bass!”
Derpy set back down on the ground and held out a slip of paper. “There’s an address where she wants to meet you,” she said. “It’s a restaurant. It looks really pricey. Waaay more pricey than the buffet over at Golden Chorale.”
Octavia took the paper and forced herself to smile. “Thank. You. Derpy,” she managed to hiss through her teeth and then slammed the door in the mailmare’s face.
A second later, she opened it again and said, “And by the way, her name is pronounced like ‘base.’ Not like the fish! That’s why it rhymes with ‘face!’” Then she slammed the door again.
Back inside the house, she barely registered Vinyl’s confused expression as she went to the sofa and collapsed upon it.
“Blast!” she moaned. “Of all the things to happen, this is the! Worst! Possible—”
“Whoa, Octy, easy!” Vinyl shouted, plopping down next to her. “Careful there, you almost got copyright claimed by Rarity!”
Octavia raised an eyebrow, but betrayed the hint of a smile as Vinyl draped her foreleg across her shoulders.
“Sorry, Vinyl, it’s… it’s my mother.”
“Your mom? Are those still a thing?!”
“...Mothers?”
“Yeah!”
“...Yes, Vinyl. They are still a thing.”
Vinyl shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I grew up as a ward of the state. Anyway, what does she want?”
“She wants me to go to Canterlot and meet her at L’Anus Serré.”
“Well, enjoy the meal!” Vinyl said. “Anyway, let’s get back to the song.”
“Vinyl… the meeting is for tonight.”
Vinyl blinked. “Okay?”
“Which means, I need to book the first train out of Ponyville immediately.”
Vinyl blinked again. “Wait, like… right now, kind of immediately?”
“Yes, that’s what the word means!” Octavia groaned, running to grab her cello and put it and her bow in her case.
Vinyl paused. For the first time that evening, she actually wore a look of genuine concern.
“So… we’re still good on the Hearth’s Warming concert tomorrow night, right?”
Octavia paused. She grit her teeth and knit her brows.
The request that she and Vinyl perform had come late as usual. It was unprofessional for any other venue but of course it was expected for Ponyville. The Hearth’s Warming Musical Celebration had involved the best musicians in town year after year, and each year Mayor Mare had asked them both to perform almost as a formality.
Only this year, they’d been asked to perform as a duet. The request had come yesterday. Hence the last-minute preparations and rehearsals.
“Yes,” Octavia replied at last. “We should still be good.”
“Well, all right, then!” Vinyl said with a shrug. “Tell your mom I said hi.”
“I will,” Octavia said, snapping her cello case shut.
“...Wait, doesn’t she still hate me? And hate that we’re dating?”
Octavia sighed. “Yes, Vinyl. She hates both of those things in equal measure.”
“Oh. Then tell her I said ‘Buck you!’”
Octavia smirked as she hoised the cello case onto her back. “I’ll pass that along.”
Then Vinyl was at her shoulder, her hooves grasping her. Her shades had been cast aside.
“No, really,” Vinyl said, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Tell her that Vinyl Scratch, a.k.a. DJ-P0N3, says ‘Buck. You.’”
Octavia bit her lip. “That’s… oh, very well. I’ll make sure to tell her.”
Vinyl released her and went back to her turntable. “That’s all I ask,” she said, fiddling with the knobs. “See ya when ya get back!”
That evening, Octavia sat across from Larga Bass, a mare of considerable repute in the classical music world and whose voice carried almost as much volume as her flank.
Both mother and daughter were seated on the balcony of one of Canterlot’s most prestigious restaurants, L’Anus Serré. Octavia had arrived on time, but apparently Larga had anticipated her being late, and was at least two cups of white wine deep into her appetizer. Well, into waiting for her appetizer.
“Those appetizers are taking forever!” Larga moaned. “Service in Canterlot simply isn’t what it used to be, Tavi.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Octavia muttered. “The service in Ponyville is usually quite swift.”
“Well, of course it is, sweetie. That’s just because they’re sloppy, with no care for preparation. Not like here in Canterlot.”
“...Where the service isn’t what it used to be.”
“What? Oh, what are you on about, Tavi, the service is as splendid as it’s always been!”
“But you just—”
Octavia stopped herself, inhaling sharply through her nostrils and firmly placing her hooves on the table.
“Never mind,” she continued. “Mother, what exactly was so important that you summoned me here at a moment’s notice just before Hearth’s Warming Eve?”
“Well, I would apologize, Tavi, but this simply couldn't wait! You see—”
At that, a waitress came to their table. “Pardonnez-moi, mes salopes,” she said flatly. “I have your appetizeurs. Zey are ze falafel balls infused with kale. Please enjoy zem, and je souhaiterais être mort.”
“Oh… er, yes, as do we!” Larga Bass laughed as the waitress walked off.
Octavia merely stared at her, blankly.
“My my!” Larga said, popping one of the appetizers in her mouth. “These are exquisite! Have you ever enjoyed falafel balls, Tavi?”
“That pleasure is not mine, Mother.”
“Oh, well, you simply must try them!”
“I’d rather not,” Octavia replied.
Larga’s expression darkened. “Not surprising. You never care for balls.”
“...I’m not sure what you mean, Mother.”
“Oh, I’m certain you do!” Larga snapped. “I set you up with that nice boy, Frederick Horsechopin, fully expecting you two to make beautiful music together, and what do you do? You refuse his balls!”
“Mother—”
“And they were such fanciful balls!”
“Mother, please—”
“Why, if you’d accepted his offer, you could have held some of the biggest balls in all the land!”
“Mother—”
“Even the Summer Charity Ball he held! A banquet and some lovely dancing, and the musicians who played there would have become among the greatest in all the land!”
“Mother, for the love of Celestia’s sweet, voluminous backside, get to the point!”
Larga Bass downed another cup of wine as she stuffed more kale balls into her mouth, oblivious to the snickers and stares from the other patrons of the restaurant and to the red-faced look of humiliation her daughter wore.
“My point is that you keep missing opportunities to advance your career as a musician,” she said. “Frederick’s invitation to collaborate aside, you’ve passed up on numerous opportunities all for the sake of collaborating with that DJ friend of yours.”
Octavia immediately groaned and rolled her eyes. “And here we go once again,” she sighed, wondering if perhaps she should have passed on Vinyl’s ‘greeting.’
“I know it’s a tiresome topic, sweetie, but that mare… sorry, Vinyl Scratch, also known as ‘DJ-P0N3,’ has actually gone up in my estimation in recent times.”
Octavia sat forward. “Enough for you to remember her name, it seems.”
“Yes. And that is the issue at hoof: her star is increasingly rising in the music world. Whereas yours is becoming, shall we say, a bit dim.”
Octavia merely stared back at her.
“You still get invitations to venues, of course. Canterlot Philharmonic and the Grand Galloping Gala. You’ve achieved some prestige, I’ll grant, but I expected you to make a name for yourself outside of that little backwater town you’ve settled down in. The name ‘Octavia Melody’ deserves to be mentioned in the same circles as the greats, like Maya Neighser, Robert deMane, or even Po Po Ma! And what is holding you back is a combination of living outside the social circles of the music world, far away from getting to rub muzzles with the most influential creators, and instead playing accompaniment on EDM tracks. Nopony is buying those albums to listen to you, Octavia! The name they see on the cover is hers. No matter how successful those collaborations get, compared to her, you will always be, if you’ll forgive the pun, second fiddle.”
Octavia swallowed, leaning back in her seat as the waitress returned with two bowls of soup.
“My apologies for ze wait, je ne suis pas sincère, and here is your cream of mushroom soup,” said the waitress. “Also, madame, zat was a play on words, not a ‘pun.’ Essayez d'apprendre votre propre putain de langue.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, and we will enjoy it!” Larga said hurriedly as the waitress slinked off.
Octavia was still quiet, barely interested in the soup but still digesting her mother’s words. They cut deep but rang true, and echoed her own frustrations with her current collaboration with Vinyl where, once again, she was fading into the background of what felt more and more like somepony else’s dream.
And while she’d never been overly ambitious about the things her mother pushed for her, that didn’t mean that she didn’t still want them. Hadn’t she started out her career with every intention of being among the greats that her mother had just mentioned? Shouldn’t she have made it there by now?
“Hm. It seems I’ve touched a nerve,” Larga said with a grin and a touch of satisfaction. She took a sip of her soup. “In that case, Tavi, you should know that I haven’t just invited you to berate you. I have an opportunity for you. Do you happen to know of a certain legendary composer and conductor from the Great North?”
Octavia blinked, but then she sat up, her eyes going wide. “You can’t mean… Venite Adoremoose!”
“The very same!” Larga bubbled. “And it just so happens that he is conducting the Hearth’s Warming Eve concert at Carneighgie Hall! And it also just so happens that one of his cellists is out sick with a severe flu.”
“Oh my! Who is it? Are they all right?”
Larga narrowed her eyes. “Tavi,” she said flatly. “Who. Cares?”
Octavia stared back at her.
“The point is that there is an open seat, and it just so happens that I had enough pull with the right ponies to get you to fill it.”
Octavia gasped. “Me?! Mother, you’re saying that they want me to perform at the concert?”
Larga smiled. “You’ll need to catch the train to Manehattan tomorrow. There’s a short rehearsal at 3, and the concert is at 8.”
Octavia was nodding. In spite of herself, her heart was hammering in her chest and she wore a beaming smile. “Imagine it… imagine me performing in a concert conducted by the legendary Venite Adoremoose!”
“We won’t have to imagine it tomorrow,” Larga said. Then her smile faded and she leaned forward. “Ahem? Don’t you think someone’s owed a ‘Thank you,’ perhaps?”
“Ah! Y-yes, mother, thank you, this is—”
Then she froze.
“What? What’s wrong, Tavi?” her mother asked.
“Ah… it’s just that tomorrow I was going to perform a duet with Vinyl at the Ponyville Hearth’s Warming celebration, and—”
“No!” Larga snapped, pounding the table. “No no no! This is just what we were talking about! I will not let you throw away an opportunity like this! You will attend this concert and secure a path forward, or else you will remain a mere accompanist until you are old and gray!”
“...well, mother, I’m already gray,” Octavia retorted.
“I put myself out there for you, Octavia. You will not embarrass me, and you will not degrade yourself for a small town show when Carneighgie Hall awaits. That is the final word here. Now, eat your soup like a good filly.”
Octavia bowed her head and took up her spoon. Then she caught a glance at the waitress across the balcony, who gave her a stern shake of the head and motioned that perhaps she should skip the soup, so she put the spoon down and started thinking of what to tell Vinyl…
“So… you’re not going to do the duet thing?”
Octavia winced as Vinyl sat back in her chair that evening as she casually sipped from a can of energy drink.
“It’s… it’s not personal, Vinyl,” she said.
“Huh? Oh, no, I get it!” Vinyl said quickly. “I mean… wow, Carneighgie Hall is no joke! And even I’ve heard of this moose guy! I mean, I can never remember his name, but I know he’s a big deal!”
Octavia nodded. “He certainly is.”
“Yeah, so… honestly, that’s great! Good luck!”
Octavia watched her. Vinyl wore a smile and raised the can as if to toast her success, but she knew her well enough to see right past it all, to see the happy, even indifferent facade for what it was. The way she held her head, the movement of her limbs, and the pitch of her voice all gave it away.
“You’re upset.”
“What? No!” Vinyl laughed, but the nervousness betrayed her instantly.
“Vinyl, please,” Octavia said, taking a seat next to her. “I know you. Just tell me the truth.”
Vinyl bit her lip, fidgeting a bit before taking a long swig from her can. “Well… okay, yeah, sure I’m a little disappointed!” she exclaimed, getting up from the couch. She raised the can in her magic and crushed it in midair before casually tossing it into the recycling bin in their kitchen. “I mean, I love…”
She paused and swallowed, taking a deep breath.
“I… I love making music with you, Tavi,” she said quietly. She removed her shades to look at her. “I was looking forward to the show tomorrow and then spending Hearth’s Warming Eve together. But this is a big deal. It’s a big thing for your career… and hey,” she added with a chuckle, “it just might get your mom off your back for a bit.”
Octavia smiled weakly. “It might,” she replied.
“So… yeah, go ahead! It’s the right thing to do!”
Octavia nodded. “It is,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Vinyl. I truly… that is, you…”
“Aw, don’t get all mushy, Tavi!” Vinyl laughed. “Just get to Manehattan and rock their socks off! Or, uh, whatever the classical music version of it is! Iunno… ‘finesse their ascots off’?”
Octavia chuckled, but stood up from the couch and went over to her, hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Vinyl,” she whispered.
“Just make sure to get back by Hearth’s Warming, okay?”
“Of course.”
The music in the concert hall swelled to an enormous crescendo, a thunderous wave of sonic bliss as horns and strings and woodwinds held the final note while kettle drums rattled the hall to its foundations. And with a final wave of his hooves and a shake of his mighty antlers, the conductor at last cut off the triumphant note, leaving it to echo out into the empty air.
The small gathering of producers in the front row broke out into rapturous applause as the great Venite Adoremoose gave a satisfied nod.
“Magnificent, everyone!” he exclaimed, and the orchestra’s musicians all relaxed at the same time, smiles on their faces as they laughed and wiped their brows, the tension of the rehearsal draining from them.
Octavia was among them, breathing a climactic sigh of relief as she lowered her bow. She received several approving nods and words of encouragement from her fellow cellists in her section when one of the staff members came over to her.
“Maestro Adoremoose wishes to speak with you, miss.”
“With me?!” she exclaimed, drawing some looks from the other musicians. “What for? Have I done something wrong?”
“I do not know, miss, but he did not seem agitated. Still, I would go right away. The Maestro is very busy this evening, and it would not do to waste his time.”
“Ah… yes, of course, quite right,” she said, and quickly gathered up her instrument.
She found the Maestro on the roof terrace, which was caked with snow, as he looked out over the streets of Manehattan with a steaming hot mug of hot cocoa in one hoof. A kettle with a second mug was placed on a table next to him.
“Maestro Adoremoose?”
“Ah, Miss Melody, glad you could join me!” he said, and beckoned for her to stand next to him. “I have a kettle with some more cocoa if you’d like a cup? It’s rather chilly today.”
Suddenly she felt the chill and eagerly accepted his offer, pouring herself a mug.
“Thank you, sir,” she muttered into her cup, blowing on it to cool it slightly.
“I enjoy this weather myself,” Adoremoose said. “In the Great North, it can get quite frigid throughout much of the year. I travel quite a lot for my work, though, so I suppose I’ve grown acquainted with the warmer temperatures around Equestria. But still, there’s something about the winter that feels like home.”
Octavia nodded somewhat absently. “Pardon me, but I was told you wished to speak with me, sir?” she asked. “Was my performance not satisfactory?”
“Nonsense!” Adoremoose laughed, giving a shake of his prodigious antlers. “Your performance was exemplary! What concerns me,” he said, turning his gaze from the snowy cityscape to look down at her, “is your demeanor.”
“M-my demeanor, sir?”
“Yes,” he said, taking a sip from his own mug. “Miss Melody, when performing, you gave yourself wholly over to your performance. Your skill is undeniable, and I am glad to see your professionalism. After all, this is a last-minute job, and on Hearth’s Warming Eve, no less! But that does leave the moments between. When you first arrived, you seemed rather distracted. And when we took a break earlier, I caught you looking quite… well, somber. Is something the matter?”
“Ah,” Octavia said, suddenly turning away. “It’s nothing, Maestro. Please don’t concern yourself.”
“I have already concerned myself, Miss Melody!” Venite Adoremoose said, continuing to watch her. “And now that I have, I would like a direct answer.”
Octavia swallowed. How can I tell him what I feel? she wondered. For him to think that I don’t want to be here… it would be an absolute disaster! I simply can’t tell him!
“I admit I had plans for Hearth’s Warming Eve,” she said. “But they weren’t important. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I promise to give it my full attention!”
“Hmm,” Adoremoose hummed. His smile waned.
“Maestro?” she asked. “Have I said something to offend you?”
Adoremoose didn’t respond at first, but instead turned back to look out at the city. “Word of your skills was passed down to me by my associates,” he said, “and it seems that they were being harried by a rather insistent mare by the name of Larga Bass.”
Octavia winced.
“Friend? Or… ah, no. Family,” he said, nodding with a knowing grin.
“My mother, sir.”
“Mmm,” Adoremoose hummed. “My own mother was quite insistent on pushing me and advancing my own career. It seemed like every year there was a new ‘opportunity of a lifetime.’ And I chased after them, time and time again, to satisfy her. And I suppose it paid off, for my career as a musician, composer, and conductor has reached new heights.
“But while I take pride in my successes, it is around this time of year that I get a bit… wistful. I think of the Hearth’s Warmings I missed growing up, the ones when I was a young bull when I was out making a name for myself while my friends and family all celebrated at home without me. And now that I am established in the music world… well, many of those friends and family are gone. And the chance to celebrate with them is gone too. And those moments, once missed, are gone forever. No success or accolades or pile of bits can ever buy them back, for they are lost to time.”
He turned back to Octavia. Whether she was shivering from his words or the chill in the wind, he did not know, but he saw that she had tears in her eyes.
“I… was going to perform with a friend,” she said. “No… no, she is more than a friend, sir. I told her that I was coming here to further my career, to chase after my dreams of success… but now that I’m here, I can’t help but think of her and the duet we were to perform for our little town’s holiday concert.” She breathed in and exhaled with a shudder. “This… this is what I’ve wanted! What I’ve dreamed of! So… so why do I feel so horrible?!”
Venite Adoremoose gave another solemn nod, turning away while the younger mare wiped her eyes.
“You should know that I volunteer for Hearth’s Warming concerts around Equestria now because I want the event to bring joy to the creatures of this land,” he said. “Hearth’s Warming was once a source of sorrow to me, but now I can spread joy to others through my music, and that is where I too have found joy. But I will not have my performance be a source of misery to another.”
Octavia looked up at him as he drained his cup. “Maestro?”
“Tell the truth, Miss Melody,” he said. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear or what your mother would want. Tell the honest truth in your heart: where do you truly want to be this Hearth’s Warming Eve?”
Octavia swallowed, her lip quivering. “Maestro… I want to be with her! I want to perform our duet! And I don’t care if her fame eclipses mine and if I end up a bit part in her story… it’s all right because that’s where I love to be!”
Adoremoose smiled down at her. “Then you should hurry. You can still catch a train back to Ponyville if you leave now.”
“But… Maestro, I cannot simply leave you short-hooved! I made a commitment—”
“We will manage with one less cellist,” Adoremoose chuckled. “It isn’t ideal, but we will manage. And you have already impressed me, Miss Melody.” He leaned down to look her in the eyes, a broad smile across his long face. “I will be certain to call on you for future performances. Hopefully that will satisfy that overbearing mother of yours, but if it doesn’t, well… do what I could never do with my own mother, and tell her to stuff it!”
Octavia gasped and then stifled a laugh. “Maestro… I don’t know what to say!”
“Say ‘Happy Hearth’s Warming,’ and then say ‘Goodbye,’ and then get going!” Adoremoose laughed. “Your duet awaits!”
Vinyl Scratch sat backstage at the Ponyville Music Hall, her turntable ready to be wheeled in as she watched the penultimate performer.
Okay, no biggie, she told herself. This number is still good, even if it isn’t as good as the version I had going with Tavi, so the crowd will still eat it up.
She stared out at the stage, listening to the dulcet tones of Lyra playing her harp, smiling as she pictured Bon Bon out in the crowd, practically melting into her hooves as the sweet notes of “Good King Pegaslas” filled the air.
And her smile became strained as she imagined Octavia at Carneighgie Hall that very second.
I should have asked her to stay… no. No, I should have gone with her! Or either one! She grit her teeth. Ugh, either one of those would have been better than doing this alone! Screw the song, the funnest part of this was getting to do it with—
There was a cough and a tap on her shoulder.
She whipped around, her shades practically flying off as she saw who was trying to get her attention.
“Octavia!” she shouted.
“Vinyl, shh!” Octavia hissed, pressing her hoof to Vinyl’s lips. “Lyra’s still performing!”
Vinyl blushed, but then nodded. Then her smile faded. “Wait, Tavi, what are you doing here?”
“I… well, I’m here to perform our duet.”
Vinyl gawked at her. “Tavi… oh, Tavi, no, you said that—”
And then Octavia pushed her hoof to Vinyl’s lips a second time. “I have made my decision, and I am certain of it, Miss Scratch, so you will simply have to accept what’s done is done… and I do hope you are happy to see me and still want to perform our duet, because if you do not then I will cry, and I would hate to do something so undignified on Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
Vinyl grinned and adjusted her glasses, sucking in a deep breath to steady herself. “In that case… we’re on next, and I think you’ll like the changes I’ve got in mind…”
The lights dimmed at first. But then as the synthetic drum beat started, the neon lights began to pulse as the two mares appeared in silhouette. As the music built, a spotlight came up on Octavia as she began to play a variation on a familiar carol. The crowd began to hoot and holler, nodding their heads in time with the rhythm.
Vinyl’s synthetic beats and a looping vocal track began to build as Octavia’s playing quickened. The lights brightened, casting images of snowflakes across the stage.
Octavia looked out at the Ponyville crowd, their faces illuminated in flashes of light. The small venue was packed with festive ponies, and while it was dwarfed in comparison to the cavernous size of Carneighgie Hall, her heart swelled as she recognized the cheering faces of nearly every single pony in the hall.
The music built and built, quickening until it suddenly paused in a momentary frozen moment of silence—
And then came the drop.
Only this time, it was a frenzy of Octavia’s bow, her cello strings singing out in a rapid-fire storm of chords and variations as Vinyl’s turntable only punctuated each tumbling melody with a burst of bass. But instead of drowning out Octavia, it seemed more to punctuate each note, the synths affirming her song, cradling and carrying it overhead as if to proclaim it to the world.
Octavia’s mane lashed back and forth in time with the rapid movements of her bow, her expression one of ecstasy as a thin sheen of sweat formed on her gray coat, and it was in the midst of this that she looked over to Vinyl only to see her wearing the exact same expression.
And as they neared the bridge, the crowd erupted in joyous cheers that split the crisp winter air around the town and shook snow from branches as far as a block away…
Late that night, Octavia and Vinyl both stood on the balcony of City Hall. They, like so many others, were enjoying the holiday light displays that had been set up throughout the town. Carolers could be heard in the distance on the cold wind, and ponies here and there could be heard conversing and laughing as their hooves crunched into the snow, but otherwise the night was remarkably still.
Octavia still felt electrified from their performance, and found it difficult to stand still, but gradually her heart rate returned to normal, and she was able to calm herself and enjoy the peaceful night as Vinyl scooted closer to her, both their forelegs resting on the railing on the upper tier of City Hall.
“You’re shivering,” Vinyl whispered.
“I’m just pent up,” Octavia replied.
An icy wind blew by and she hugged herself.
“All right, and I’m shivering,” Octavia admitted.
“Yeah, like I said,” Vinyl chuckled. And then she undid her scarf and wrapped it around Octavia’s neck, pulling them in closer.
“Vinyl, please, this… you know I find this sort of thing embarrassing,” she whispered.
“Yeah, but I don’t think anypony’s paying attention to us anyway,” Vinyl said, and pointed to the numerous other couples around them and below, all of which were leaning into each other as they stared at the twinkling lights adorning the trees that lit up the town square.
“Mmm… oh, very well!” Octavia chuckled. She even allowed herself an uncharacteristic giggle as Vinyl planted a kiss on her cheek, followed by a few quick pecks on her neck.
She sighed contentedly as she felt Vinyl lean into her, her soft blue mane brushing against her.
“Is your mom gonna be pissed?” Vinyl whispered.
“Frankly, I don’t even care,” Octavia said.
“Heh. ‘Bout time!”
There was a pause.
“...Is your career over?” Vinyl asked, tensing up slightly.
“Pfft. Not if Maestro Adoremoose has anything to say about it, apparently,” she replied.
Vinyl relaxed at that. “Cool.”
“Yes… yes, it is ‘cool.’ But even if that weren’t the case, even if it meant I spent the rest of my life as just some mare whose name appears in your album credits, I still wouldn’t regret running back to you. I still have my own dreams, but getting to be here for you, to be with you, to play a part in your legend? Well, that’s something I can be proud of too.”
Octavia heaved a happy sigh.
“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Tavi.”
“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Vinyl.”
The two of them lingered there as the crowds dwindled and the night grew chill, but they stayed there, basking in each other’s warmth. Very soon, they would face the coming days with wonder and excitement about the music they’d make together, but for now, they held each other in blissful silence as the silvery moon swam overhead, bathing the snowy land with its warm glow.
This story was written as a holiday Fic Exchange for Sonicsuns, who requested some Octavia x Vinyl Scratch partially inspired by the fan-song, "I'll Come Runnin."
Hope you enjoyed it, Sonicsuns!
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When you described their performance at the end I could hear the sweet dulcet tones of the TRANS-SIBERIAN ORCHESTRA
11789491
Partial inspiration may have been taken.
Why does this story say it was published last year when it showed up in the updated stories list of this year?
11789516
Ah, that's because the chapter was published in December, but due to the rules of the event it was written for, I couldn't publish the actual story until after New Year's Day.
Awhhh hell yeah! Babe, a new octa scratch fic dropped!!
This is a very great story, very good work on it!
I wouldn't try to eat anything from there though...
Also eheheh, reading that restaurant name and what that waitress is saying in French is golden
As one specific reader, I can hardly keep myself from smirking at "L’Anus Serré"
(I feel like I don't see how it's quite in character for the Canterlotites (Canterlotians??), idk? I mean, I assume some of them KNOW Prench.)
On other notes, the story premise is great, and I hope to find time to finish reading this.
😁
11789827
?????? What? Is this a bot?
11790851
I reported them but it looks like they haven't been banned. I'll send another report, then delete the comment.
This is one kind of bot I don't want to associate with.
"lashed about face as though"
"lashed about her face as though"?
"Octavia smirked as she hoised the cello case onto her back."
"Octavia smirked as she hoisted the cello case onto her back."?
[checks with Google Translate]
Ah, yes, I thought that "mort" might be suspect. :D
Though it turned out it was the previous line insulting the customers.
"doing here?”
“I… well"
There appears to be an extra line break here?
Nice. :)
Thanks for writing!
This waitress is from Paris, isn't she? :p
11890749
Oui.