> The Incredibly Trying Performance of Octavia
>  by Ponibius
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> First Movement: Cambiare
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The Incredibly Trying Performance of Octavia


First Movement: Cambiare


Improvisation, there is a certain charm to it—to just play and let the music flow out of you. Naturally, one can add one’s own interpretation to what is written on a sheet of paper. Indeed, that is what a true master of my craft does, but with improvisation there is a certain intimate expression of oneself. There is a serenity to it.

My hooves flowed over the keys of the piano before me. While the cello was my instrument of choice and the one I normally used for professional performances, I do know how to competently play a couple other instruments. It was a pleasure, admittedly, to play something else, upon occasion, to add a bit of variety to my life. Sometimes, it helped to play something different when I found myself in a rut.

I played a soft, classical melody that echoed through the Sparkle Manor ballroom, accentuating the polite atmosphere of the social gathering as the Canterlot well-to-do talked amongst themselves. My music echoed out amongst the ballroom’s marble floors, classical columns, ornate chandelier, and works of art along the walls. The Sparkles were an old, prestigious, and wealthy family, which showed in their home in Canterlot. The size of the manor alone spoke of their considerable wealth.

Duchess Twilight Velvet of House Sparkle had asked me if I would like to play a little something for her guests. Given House Sparkle was one of my more wealthy and prestigious patrons and that I was the Duchess’s guest, I accepted. It was common enough to be asked to play a little something in situations like this—either improvisations, something of my own choosing, or requests. It was simply one of those things a musician does.

It’s a matter of prestige for a patron to be able to request the services of a musician as famous as myself. More than enough of the Canterlot elite were happy to hear something unique and unusual such as me playing the piano or other instrument rather than my customary cello. It was a curiosity, a unique experience only one of my patrons could arrange.

While I wasn’t being paid for unofficial performances such as these, it would benefit me in the long run. It would justify House Sparkle’s continued patronage and help me gain the attention of other potential patrons in the room. Obtaining the sponsorship of patrons was essential for an artist to succeed—especially in Canterlot. A good patron could open a great many doors for a musician. They could help gain a pony auditions to a prestigious organization, making introductions to the wealthy and powerful. Many also hire musicians for private performances (adding no small bonus to a musician’s bottom line at the end of the month).

Also, patrons like House Sparkle had a tendency to offer the leftover food and half-empty bottles of exquisite spirits to the servants and some of the other guests, such as myself, who were not part of the nobility. They didn’t want to see the food go to waste, and offering what was left to the nobles at the social gathering was likely to just be perceived as an insult. So ponies like me were oftentimes allowed to leave with whatever they wished back to our homes. Even a distinguished pony such as myself was not immune to the allure of free food, though I blame that on the starving artist days of my career. Some habits were just hard to break—even when one became successful.

“Hey, Tavi!” An all-too-familiar white-coated mare sat down on the piano bench next to me. I was in the middle of a movement when she started vigorously poking me in the ribs. “Tavi, hey Taaavi, Tavi, Taviii.”

Her relentless prodding caused me to fumble on my playing, the jarring misstep causing a few of those gathered around us to glance our way, and I was forced to slap my friend’s hooves away. “Vinyl, stop! I’m trying to play here.”

Vinyl Scratch gave me a big, stupid grin. “Oh, don’t be like that. I just wanted to catch up with my friend, is all. Been forever since we had some time to just hang out.”

I sighed and started playing again to regain the momentum Vinyl had caused me to lose. “I know, I know. Really, it is good to see you again.” It was true that I had not seen Vinyl for at least a couple of weeks. These days it seemed that our busy schedules kept us away from each other more and more. It was starting to look like I would have to start scheduling times to meet with friends like Vinyl. I didn’t like the idea of actually having to mark down time specifically to be with her, but with my schedule looking more and more full by the month, it might become a necessity if I was to have any kind of social life. 

“Hay yeah, it’s good to see me again!” She wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders to drag me close to her. The jerk caused me to miss a couple more notes, much to my irritation. “So. Ya doin’ good?”

The barest of a smirk creased my lips as I worked up a melody. “I’ve been managing. I was selected to play for that opera I told you about, so I’m happy about that.”

Vinyl took a sip from her glass—one of the more delicate types that only unicorns could really use safely without breaking, rather than one of the more sturdy types with a proper handle like anypony else usually had. “Pretty cool. Knew you wanted to play for that ... what-cha-ma-call-it.”

I found my rhythm again, and the movements similar to the ones I had seen on the sheet music for the opera “The Countess of Marete Cristo. It’s based off of a book I really liked.” Admittedly, that had been a big reason why I had encouraged my agent to see if he could get me an audition for that opera in favor of some other performances. One advantage of being at the apex of one's field was that one had a few more options to pick what you liked rather than being forced to go with whatever jobs were available.

Vinyl snorted derisively. “And you get on me for pickin’ some gigs for silly reasons.”

“A job is still a job, and there is nothing wrong if I find a few reasons other than just the pay to like it.” I looked up from the piano to give Vinyl an amused smirk. “Besides, this isn’t nearly as bad as that time you DJed at that hole in the ground in Neigh Orleans. The literal hole in the ground. The one they filled with concrete and pushed a rock over a couple of years ago because it was a pit of evil.” I was not privy to all the details, but from what I had heard, that rave party Vinyl had DJed for had not gone well—not well at all.

Vinyl sheepishly rubbed the back of her mane. “Well, the promo-pony was, like, seriously cute. And the venue had free nachos!”

I gave Vinyl a flat look. There were simply no words.

My less-than-wise friend coughed and cleared her throat. “Um, so I got a new awesome gig coming up.”

“Oh?”

Vinyl rested an elbow on the piano to give me a smug grin. “Yeah, I’m totally going to be the DJ at the royal wedding. How cool is that?”

It was easy enough to see the advantages of performing at such a venue. In fact, it was a pretty big gig for my friend. I felt a slight pang of jealousy. As possibly the grandest social event of the year, the royal wedding would likely give Vinyl a lot of exposure and attention. Some ponies were born with all the luck. I also knew there were probably a few other, more personal, reasons for her wanting to play at that specific wedding.

Still, I felt it to be my duty as one of Vinyl’s best friends to deflate that ego of hers a bit. Otherwise, there might not be enough room for everyone in the ballroom.

“I thought you didn’t like dealing with all the”— I made my best impression of Vinyl’s scratchy-sounding voice—“lame-o, hoity-toity snobs.” I was exaggerating a bit. Vinyl was like just about every other pony and liked to decry about how awful the nobility were (even the nobility themselves were up for that game), but even Vinyl had her patrons. House Sparkle very prominent among them. The music business was a cutthroat one in Canterlot, or most anywhere in Equestria really, and having a few good patrons could easily make the difference between success or failure. Not to mention how it affected one’s bit purse.

Vinyl fidgeted on the piano bench. “Hey, some nobles are okay.”

I smirked as I started to play a more jovial tune. “And I’m sure that statement has nothing to do with your bank account.” From what I gathered, Vinyl did do rather well for herself between being a DJ and writing her own music.

“I’m serious.” She smirked and nudged me in the shoulder. “Not every noble is a stuffy jerk. Some of them know how to unwind and have a good time.”

I gasped and dropped my jaw in fake amazement. “Why, Vinyl! Did I actually hear you say something nice about the nobility?”

“I said some. Sooome.” Vinyl crossed her forelegs in front of her chest and her lips puckered into a pout. “Don’t think I’m going to become a snob like you who likes all these snooty parties.”

I took a moment from my playing to give Vinly a friendly shove to the shoulder. “I am not a snob.”

Vinyl rubbed her chin as she gave me an appraising look, smirking all the while. “I don’t know. I mean you have the snooty mane style and your snooty bow.” My pink bow tie glowed in Vinyl’s telekinetic field. She gave the bow a tug, and I was forced to stop my playing to put my hooves over it to keep it from being ruined. Bows were not exactly easy to tie when you only had your mouth and hooves to work with. I doubted it was a coincidence that that something as infuriatingly complex as the necktie was a unicorn invention. One could not deny the advantage their telekinesis gave them.

“Do not touch the bow, Vinyl.” I straightened my bow and made sure it was on right. “And for the record, I think it makes me look distinguished.” I sat up and gave her my best dignified pose.

Vinyl gave a good-natured snort. “You and your silly pink bow.”

I reached out and tapped the central bridge of her red shades. “Says the pony who always wears shades inside. Really, that can’t be good for your sight.”

“Hey, the shades are cool.” She fidgeted with the shades to reset them on her face. “Besides, they’re part of my image.” She flashed me confident smile.

I straightened my bow in an exaggerated manner. “Same.” I had been wearing a bow to most of my concerts and social gatherings I had been to in my life. My parents had insisted I wear one since I was a filly to make me look distinguished for the cultured ponies of society, and over time, I found it became part of my image. Putting it on before a performance was all but second nature to me now.

Vinyl took a swig of her drink before continuing. “Still makes you look snooty.” She pressed down on the keys of the piano to play a short little tune. “Just like your snooty piano playing.”

“If memory serves, you know how to play the piano too.” I started up another song on the piano, hopefully minimizing how many ponies would stop to stare at the two of us. I liked spending time with Vinyl on occasion, but she could be a bit embarrassing to be with at times.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to see a stallion and mare approach me and Vinyl. “Duke Night Light!”

He placed a drinking mug and a small plate packed with some food on it onto the top of the piano, a warm smile on his lips. “Here, have a little something. Drink, relax, enjoy yourself.”

“If you insist,” I said, feeling slightly awkward. Social lessons long impressed into my brain by my parents screamed to greet the duke properly. My instinct said it would not do to insult the husband of Lady Sparkle, as both of them were powerful patrons of mine. I fought against those instincts and took a drink from the offered mug that I found was filled with some wine.

Vinyl smiled and tipped her glass towards the pair. “Hey, Mom! Nice to see ya!”

Vinyl’s mother inclined her head to her daughter. Quill Scratch was an older mare with a light grey coat and dual-blue mane much like Vinyl’s, though hers was done up in a bun rather than the spiky thing Vinyl liked to call a manestyle. She had been Grand Vizier Night Light’s secretary for as long as I had known her and now served as his Chief of Staff. The officious mare had always struck me as a sharp contrast with Vinyl’s much rougher personality.

Quill wrapped Vinyl’s glass in her own telekinetic field and placed it down on the piano. “Now, Vinyl. I don’t want you drinking too much. I hope I don’t have to remind you of what happened at the Cumulus estate?”

“Oh come on, that was years ago!” Vinyl grumbled, crossing her forelegs in front of her chest. “I know better now.”

Quill gave her daughter a level, unconvinced look that only a mother could give her daughter.

“Don’t worry, Quill.” Duke Night Light nuzzled Quill in an affectionate manner. “I already told the servants not to give Vinyl too much.” He looked at Vinyl with his yellow eyes that gave a sense of mischievous intelligence.

“Hey!” Vinyl protested. “I know how much I can handle!”

“Now enough talk about drinks,” Duke Night Light said, dismissing Vinyl’s objections without even bothering to address them. He wrapped a foreleg around our necks, inserted his head between ours. “I think I would like to hear somepony play the piano for a bit.” He gave Vinyl a wicked smirk. “I remember somepony’s first piano recital when she was a little filly.”

Vinyl spluttered, no doubt trying to think of a response to her more high-cultured past being revealed. I decided to strike during her moment of weakness, as was only proper. “D’aw. I bet she was so cute sitting there and playing the piano like a big filly.”

Duke Night Light nuzzled Vinyl’s face. The duke always was more of the touchy-feely type of pony. Especially by the usual uptight standards of most of the elite of Canterlot society. “She was absolutely adorable. She was so nervous that she was just about trembling at the thought of performing in front of everypony.”

Vinyl spluttered some more, and I couldn’t help but giggle at her dismay. “I only did it because Mom made me!”

“Now don’t be like that,” said Quill as she gave Vinyl a nuzzle opposite of Night Light. Vinyl looked like she might very well die of embarrassment based on the shocked and repulsed look on her face. “You always loved to play music and perform for others.”

“Can we not talk about when I was a filly?” Vinyl pouted. She looked around desperately for some escape from being embarrassed, but she was boxed in against the piano by Duke Night Light and her mother.

“But you were so precious as a filly.” Quill telekinetically pinched Vinyl’s cheek. “I can still remember the first song you wrote, all to show how much you loved me. You sang and everything for me. It was so adorable.” I suppressed a shudder at the idea of Vinyl singing. I had heard her try once, and it had sounded like a bag stuffed with cats and chalkboards slowly being lowered into a river. I supposed a mother’s love could make a great many things attractive where their children are involved.

Vinyl’s face became a mask of horror as she saw my widening grin, and I could see her realizing the blackmail material I had just gathered against her.

Duke Night Light smirked at Vinyl’s discomfort and gave her a familial squeeze. “Can’t say I disagree. You were always the enthusiastic type.”

I tried to suppress a laugh at my friend’s discomfort—I failed. Poor Vinyl’s white coat did nothing to hide her blushing.

Duke Night Light motioned towards the piano with the hoof wrapped around Vinyl’s neck. “Why don’t you play us a little something? It would be nice to see those piano lessons you got put to some good use. They didn’t come cheap, you know.”

Vinyl waved the idea off. “Nah, I think Tavi’s got it. She’s better at the piano anyways.”

“Why, Vinyl. Did you actually give me a compliment?” I asked as smugly as I could. There was no possibility I was going to let an opportunity for Vinyl to compliment my music to pass me by. It really was fascinating how one’s parents opened up so many weaknesses in a pony.

I could see the gears turn in Vinyl’s head to decide on a course of action, and in the end, she went with boastful. “Hey, the only reason you’re any better is because I’m rusty! I could totally blow you out of the water if I wanted to.”

“Oh you can, can you?” I shifted a little bit further down the bench to give Vinyl more room. “Prove it.” Vinyl really was too easy sometimes.

Vinyl growled, having been caught in a trap that could not be easily escaped. “Fine!” She rolled her fetlocks and shoulders to loosen them up. “You’re all terrible, you know that?”

I leaned an elbow on the top of the piano and grinned at my belabored friend. “Now, now. We just want to see you play the piano like when you were a little filly.” In truth, I hadn’t heard Vinyl play much of the piano, and what I had heard was her playing around with a few notes on my piano while she worked on a section of some song that had just come to her head. So I was quite curious to see her attempt an actual song.

Vinyl started out slowly, building a rhythm and clearly trying to regain a grasp of an atrophied skill. Her brows furrowed in concentration as the notes quickened in pace to form a soothing song, probably something Vinyl had practiced long ago when she was a filly, given it didn’t have the usual sound of her own boisterous music.

Duke Night Light smiled proudly and released his hold on me and Vinyl to stand behind us. “See, isn’t that nice?” Admittedly, it was quite the nice tune.

“Nice?” Vinyl snorted. “Let’s kick this up a notch so that I can show you something awesome!” With a frankly jarring transition, Vinyl started up a much quicker paced and jovial song you would normally expect to hear in some saloon in Appleloosa. The sudden change in musical style caused more than a few heads to turn our way.

Vinyl flashed me a grin as her hooves continued to fly over the piano. “See, this’s way better than the snooty, old, boring stuff you were playing a minute ago.”

“Now be nice, Vinyl,” Quill said reproachfully. She turned an appreciative smile my way. “Your friend plays quite well.” With all the maturity a six year old could bring to bear, Vinyl stuck her tongue at me from an angle her mother couldn’t see.

I gave Quill a respectful nod. “Thank you, Ms. Scratch. The piano isn’t my instrument of choice, but it is nice to play every once in a while for everypony.”

“No need to be so modest. We all certainly appreciate hearing such a talented young mare such as yourself,” Duke Night Light said in a way that could come across as flirty under the right circumstances. Granted, from what I had seen, he seemed to do that with a lot of mares he interacted with. Most really—possibly all, with a couple of notable exceptions. So I didn’t think much of it.

A grey mare stepped into the periphery of my vision. I turned my head to look at Duchess Sparkle, wearing a white magi cloak with violet stars on it, approach us to stand by her husband. I had to suppress those urges to properly stand up and address one of the most powerful—by more than one measure of such things—mares in Equestria.

“I’m going to have to agree with Nighty here,” Duchess Sparkle said, nuzzling Duke Night Light. “Why I remember when I first saw a brilliant filly who looked in danger of being crushed by her own instrument bringing tears to the eyes of an audience in the hundreds. It was easy to see even then that you were destined to be a great musician.”

It was true that the cello had been rather large for me when I had first taken it up to play. My parents had to carry it around in its case if we were going further than a hundred pony lengths for quite some time. I had looked a bit silly based on the pictures and drawings of me from back then, but the cello is what my muse called out for, so looking silly be cursed to Tartarus—I regret nothing. At least carrying around my cello, in addition to my usual daily exercises of running, cardio, and martial arts had helped make me quite fit and trim over the years.

I felt a slight blush warm my cheeks due to the complement. “Thank you, Duchess. That’s very kind for you to say.” I had to admit, even I was prone to moments of vanity. It was always nice to hear one’s music complimented at least occasionally. Especially when one was subject to the constant and merciless criticism of one’s fellow musicians, audiences, and the always-testy musical critics.

Duchess Sparkle shook her head. “Think nothing of it.” She turned to give Vinyl a smirk as Vinyl continued to hammer away at the piano. “And do my eyes and ears deceive me? Is that Vinyl actually playing the piano in who-knows-how-long?”

Vinyl tripped over a few notes and put on a sheepish smile. “Hey, everypony tricked me into playing.”

“You make it sound as though it was done through some great and convoluted scheme, Vinyl,” I teased.

“Evil, every one of you,” Vinyl grumbled.

Duke Night Light prodded Vinyl in the shoulder. “You’re happy to see your friend; don’t lie. I made sure to invite her so that you two could catch up.” He gave the two of us a knowing smile that could make a mare feel like there is a conspiracy coming from a mile away. “In addition to a few other reasons.”

Vinyl’s muscles gradually became less tense and relaxed and she smiled. “Heh, yeah, that’s pretty cool of you.” She took a moment to bump me in the shoulder. “Always good to spend time with Tavi. Even if she is stuck-up and snooty all the time.”

“I feel the love, Vinyl, I really do.” I suppressed the question of why I was friends with such an infuriating mare and gave Duke Night Light an inquisitive look. “If I may, can I ask what these other reasons were?”

Duke Night Light’s eyes brightened. “Of course. You two know that charity you both auditioned for a couple of weeks ago?”

I nodded. House Sparkle had requested I audition to play for a charity—one intended to help with the orphanage and foster care system, if I remembered correctly. From what I had heard, it had been neglected for a number of years before some scandal or another had brought attention to how badly it had degraded. Thus I had auditioned for a charity intended to help fund the orphanage system. I hadn’t heard back from the charity since my audition, but it seemed that was about to change.

Vinyl puckered her lips. “Yeah, what about it?” I knew that Vinyl had auditioned on the behest of the Sparkles as well. It was quite unusual for Vinyl and me to compete for the same job given our vastly different musical styles. That fact was actually quite a bit of a relief; it was comforting to know that the two of us wouldn’t normally compete and thus create any number of tensions between us. But it seemed that would not be the case here, which disturbed me slightly.

I knew of more than one friendship that had ended due to music career-related incidents. The harsh competition between too few jobs between too many ponies was more than many friendships could stand. That wasn’t even getting into the backstabs and manipulations that many saw as acceptable to promote one’s career. It could get quite disgusting at times.

I had seen more than one promising career brought to a premature end before it really began due to acts of sabotage and politics. With competition being so fierce in the musical world, many musicians weren’t willing to let skill alone determine who should win. I had been a victim of such heinous acts in the past myself.

I remember one particularly bitter incident during my childhood where me and my parents had left a concert hall to have a nice dinner, only to come back to find my cello smashed to pieces. I’m not sure who was more distraught: me over having the most precious object in the world to me destroyed, or my mother having to watch her filly’s innocence smashed like my instrument. If not for Lady Sparkle casting a powerful repair spell on the cello, I am not sure what I would have done.

Duke Night Light ran a hoof through his wife’s white-and-violet mane affectionately. “Mind if I tell them, dear?”

Lady Sparkle pecked her husband on the cheek. “Go ahead.”

Vinyl let out an exasperated groan and stopped playing to throw her forehooves up in the air. “Oh, come on! Tell us who won already!”

Duke Night Light motioned with his hoof for Vinyl to calm down. “Relax, Vinyl, relax. I have got some good news.” He smiled at the two of us. “You’ve both been chosen for the charity performance.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey.” Quill Scratch gave her daughter nuzzle and then a kiss to the forehead, causing Vinyl to look as though she were to gag.

Vinyl leaned away from her mother in order to avoid anymore maternal shows of affection. “Mooom, I told you not to do that in public! You’re totally cramping my cool image here!”

“Oh, hush.” Quill stepped up to give Vinyl another nuzzle. “Nopony’s going to care if you get a little embarrassed by your own mother.”

I frowned as I tried to figure out exactly what he meant. “You mean we’ll each be performing separately? As in half of the time will be devoted to each of us?”

He shook his head. “Actually, we were hoping you two could put on a performance together. As in, work together. You’re both fairly popular within your respective fields, and we were all hoping that by combining your popularity, we could maximize how much we earn for the charity. As far as I know, the two of you have never collaborated on a project, so a lot of ponies are going to be interest in seeing exactly what you two can come up with.”

My eyebrows rose at that suggestion. “Wait, you want me to perform,”—I pointed a hoof at Vinyl—”with her?”

Duchess Sparkle leaned against her husband. “That’s what my husband just said.”

I blinked as my brain process when I was being told. “But our music ... it’s so different. We’re just about on opposite ends of the musical spectrum.”

I didn’t want to say it out loud in order not to hurt anypony’s feelings, specifically Vinyl’s, but I had no great love for her brand of music. Her dubstep, electronic, or whatever else happened to be popular at the moment just didn’t appeal to me. I could, from an objective stance as a music critic, appreciate some of Vinyl’s songs and had found myself, begrudgingly, tapping my hoof to a couple. The problem was that, as a whole, I did not like the genres that made up Vinyl’s repertoire.

I also knew that the same was true for my friend where classical style music was concerned. The best neutral ground we could come up between us was just to tease the other over our preferred genres. The idea of trying to perform with Vinyl—and from what was being implied by the Duke, create a hybrid between our styles—did not sound like a pleasurable experience.

As was so often the case in our friendship, Vinyl took the opposite stance. “Awesome!” She enthusiastically wrapped a leg around my shoulders and gave me a rough shake. “Ya hear that, Tavi? We’re gonna have sooo much fun together!”

“Grand,” I groaned.

A light grey stallion and a pale yellow mare approached the piano with a purpose in their step. “Excuse us, but were you perhaps talking about the orphan charity concert?” asked Baron Jet Set. The Baron carried himself in a way that suggested self-importance, chin raised and posture stiff. His white and green sweater and small glasses also spoke of a pony, at least on the surface, with sophistication.

His wife, Baroness Upper Crust, carried herself in a similar manner in her pink sweater. In her case it made her appear to be condescending towards all around her. Though I might have been a bit biased based on the disapproving look she was giving me at that moment.

Baroness Upper Crust sneered before turning a disapproving frown to the group gathering around the piano. “Yes, did we hear right that these two”— from her inflection, one would think she were talking about some form of mold or perhaps a less developed form of insect, —“were the ones selected to perform for the concert?”

I chose not to rise to the Baroness’s tone of voice. I knew she was probably baiting me. I had a bit of a history with the two nobleponies, going back to when I first started performing as a filly; my parents had met with them in order to try and secure their patronage. Their requests had been, quite cruelly I might add, rebuked. A decade later, the two of them had offered to become my patrons. A cynical pony might say that it had something to do with me becoming a famous and widely respected cellist in the preceding decade. I may or may not have taken particular joy in telling them where they could shove their offer to be my patron. One could say there was a bit of bad blood between me and the Baron and Baroness as a result.

Duke Night Light smiled and nodded to the newcomers. If he was upset with the two of them, he didn’t show it, but I suppose you don’t become Grand Vizier of Equestria if you were easily upset by a couple of arrogant and generally unpleasant lesser nobles. “Indeed, we believe Octavia and Vinyl here are the best choices. They’re both popular and talented, and I’m sure they will put on a great show.”

“And what about Quaver?” asked Baron Jet Set, nodding to a light pink-coated mare chatting with a pair of ponies off to the side of the ballroom. “She auditioned too, if you will remember.”

I recognized the lyrist as a quickly rising star within the classical music community. I had talked to the mare on a couple of occasions and had not found her company to be to my liking. She was like most musicians in Canterlot, proud of their craft and determined to show her ability, and like all-too-many musicians in Canterlot, irritating to be around. Then there were all the less-than-savory rumors surrounding how she had gained her prominent position in the musical world. While I didn’t know if they were true or not where Quaver was concerned, I knew more than one fellow musicians who had used disreputable tactics to gain an edge over their competition. I believed a musician’s talent and ability should determine their success, and I found it distasteful to the extreme whenever I heard of examples of sabotage or blackmail.

Duke Night Light gave the Baron and Baroness a reassuring smile. “Quaver will be serving as a back-up performer, should something happen to Octavia or Vinyl and they are unable to perform.”

Baroness Upper Crust’s perpetual frown deepened. “So what you are saying is that she is not currently scheduled to perform?”

The duke let out an exasperated sigh. “No, she is not.”

“And why not?” Jet Set stepped up to the duke in a manner that could only be described as aggressive. “I assure you, Quaver is at least every bit the musician as Octavia. Not even mentioning...” He made a vague waving motion towards Vinyl. “Her.”

The pleasant smile Night Light had been maintaining up to this juncture swiftly became a deep scowl at the Baron’s derisive tone. “Are you insinuating something, Baron?”

Baron Jet Set looked at Vinyl with a sneer. “It’s just that I think her brand of music—and I’m using that term loosely where she is concerned—is hardly appropriate for this type of event.” He smiled in a way that conveyed neither warmth or friendliness. “I can’t help but think there were ... other factors in choosing her for the charity performance.”

Vinyl slammed her hooves on the keys of the piano, the disharmonious sound causing me to wince. “Hey! You dissin’ my music?”

Vinyl moved to stand up, but  Duke Night Light placed his hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder and pushed her back down to the bench. “Vinyl,” he said in that tone one used to warn somepony they were about to do something very stupid. She looked like she was about to shout a protest when Night Light moved his hoof to her lips to keep her from speaking. “Let me handle this, please.”

Vinyl scowled, and her gaze met her mother’s. Quill gave her daughter a slight shake of her head.  For once, it seemed that Vinyl decided discretion was the better part of valor and settled back into her seat and crossed her forelegs over her chest.

I had to envy the Grand Vizier and Quill’s ability to bring Vinyl to heel. I think I could have avoided a great deal of trouble in the past if I had been so capable of reining in my friend.

Vinyl dealt with, Duke Night Light turned back to his two less-than welcome guests. His tone had lost its traditional jovial friendliness and had become much more frigid and businesslike. “I assure you that both Octavia and Vinyl were chosen only after the most careful consideration for what was best for the charity drive.”

Baroness Upper Crust gave Night Light a fierce glower. “Are you so sure about that?” Her dismissive gaze turned to me. “I couldn’t help but overhear Octavia herself raise up a couple of objections for why those two performing together probably won’t work.” I had a feeling the Baroness had used some sort of eavesdrop spell to monitor the conversation I had been conducting. Otherwise I couldn’t see how Baroness Upper Crust could have overheard what we were saying from where she had been in the ballroom.

I ground my teeth together as I felt everypony’s gaze turn towards me. I now found myself in a precarious position: I had agreed to audition for the charity for my patrons, believing that I would either do a solo performance or perhaps with some other more classically minded musicians. Vinyl was a different matter entirely. We would somehow have to find a hybrid form of music that would compliment both of our respective styles and make it appealing to those who were going to be buying tickets for the charity performance. I wasn’t even sure it could be done.

I had never worked with Vinyl in the past, preferring to keep my friendship with her and my professional life separate. It was a reflexive instinct on my part given how many times I had been hurt by ponies in the music business I had considered friends or compatriots in the past. I hadn’t been hurt by everypony I had met over the course of my career, but I had been stung enough times to justify my desire to keep my friends and my career separate where I could.

But that all brought me to this moment. By backing me both for the audition and publically, the Sparkles had, for more than a few ponies around the ballroom were now paying attention to the vigorous discussion we were having, put their reputations on the line. Reputation was no small thing in Canterlot. It was based on reputation of my patrons and my own ability that helped get me as many auditions and roles I had in the past, and having that reputation tarnished could cause my career great harm. To express disapproval at their choice to back me and Vinyl would only harm their reputation in front of their peers.

My gaze briefly met Vinyl’s, and I could see that she saw the same thing I did. Vinyl was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them—as much as her boisterous and uncouth mannerisms might suggest otherwise. That meeting of gazes also made me realize something else, agreeing with the Baron and Baroness would also mean I did not have confidence in my best friend.

I made my choice.

“You’ll have to excuse the exact wording of my past statement,” I stated diplomatically to everypony gathered. “I was merely surprised by the sudden announcement that I had been chosen to perform and that I would be working with Vinyl.” I smiled and nodded to my friend. “I’m sure we will manage a masterful performance that will please everypony who comes to the concert.” After a moment I realized I nearly forgot something. “Oh yes, and I want to help the orphans. Just putting that out there.”

Vinyl wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders, bringing the two of us close together. “Hay yeah, we’re gonna help the orphans!”

Duke Night Light gave me and Vinyl an appreciative smile. “You see? We’ll be fine.”

Baron Jet Set snorted condescendingly. “If you say so, Duke. Just don’t say that nopony warned you should anything go wrong. Our Quaver will be ready to pick up the pieces, in any event.” He moved to leave, and his wife stepped to keep up with him. “By your leave, my wife and I really must get going. We thank you for inviting us.” From his tone, one would swear the Sparkles had invited him and his wife to crawl on broken glass for the evening instead of a polite social gathering.

After the Baron and Baroness had departed, Vinyl groaned loudly for everypony present. “Wow, what a couple of plotheads.”

Quill fixed her daughter with a reproachful look. “Vinyl, language.”

“Well, they are.” Vinyl hammered down the rest of her drink, probably to help forget the latest unpleasantness.

Quill placed a hoof on Vinyl shoulder. “Whether somepony is or isn’t is besides the point. You know how to be polite.”

Vinyl probably would have started up an argument with her mother, but I decided to get to a more important matter. “Vinyl, we really do need to start making plans for this concert. It is in only ... two weeks?” I looked to the Sparkles, and they both nodded.

Duchess Sparkle levitated a pair of papers to me and Vinyl. “I’ve made arrangements for you two to have access to the Canterlot Royal Concert Hall’s facilities for the next couple of weeks, should you need them.”

I looked over the paper and saw it was a performer’s pass for the Concert Hall. “Thank you. I’m sure we will put these to good use.”

Vinyl stretched out her back and jumped off the bench. “Kinda need time to set up all my stuff anyways. Never cool to have to set everything up at the last minute.”

“Right, we really do have a lot of work to do.” As I examined the pass, I couldn’t help but think over the great deal of trouble I had likely just gotten myself into. We had only a couple of weeks, in addition to my normal workload, to write entirely new songs based on musical styles that are polar opposites of one another and make them acceptable for the elite of Canterlot society.

“Don’t be all glum.” Vinyl jabbed me in the shoulder. “This is going to be a lot of fun. I’ve always wanted to make some sweet tunes with you.”

I gave my friend a smile that I hoped wasn’t strained. “Right. I’m sure it will be great.”
> Second Movement: Acciaccato
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Incredibly Trying Performance of Octavia


Second Movement: Acciaccato


I arrived at the Canterlot Royal Concert Hall a couple days later to meet with Vinyl Scratch. The two of us had talked and made plans to see what we could come up with for our performance. Vinyl had seemed quite enthusiastic at the time of our last meeting, but I still held my own reservations. I just hoped that those reservations were simply a result of my own conservative tendencies rather than anything to actually worry about.

I checked in with the reception of the concert hall. It wasn’t really all that necessary; I had played so many concerts there, chiefly as part of the Royal Canterlot Symphonic Orchestra, that everypony knew who I was on sight. But I liked to keep my visits official there, and I saw no harm in saying a few friendly words with those that I passed upon coming into the concert hall. It always paid to have a reputation for good manners.

After I confirmed with the receptionist Vinyl hadn’t arrived yet, I continued into the building. Considering I had arrived early, as was my ingrained habit, I wasn’t too concerned yet. It helped that I knew that Vinyl also had a tendency to be fashionably late. Usually never late enough to be an issue, but noticeably late nonetheless.

I decided to put my time to good use in the meantime while I waited for her. I walked to the back of the concert hall to one of the practice rooms. The building had a few of them, both large and small, to allow musicians to practice in and conduct other activities. It helped that each room was insulated and had silence wards placed over them that anypony could activate. It was simple but effective.

I unpacked some sheets of music and my metronome out of my saddlebags and then my cello from its case. I stood up on my hindhooves and balanced against my cello. I played a few experimental notes, tuning my instrument by ear. That done, I eased myself into the sheet music before me, something wanted to perfect my playing of for the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra that coming weekend. The smooth and steady notes sang out, reverberating through and then out my soul in the perfect harmony they were meant to sing.

I played through a pair of songs I wanted to practice and then replayed a few sections I wanted to get down to perfection. With the problem sections practiced to my satisfaction, after another full run through of each song, I put my cello back in its case. That done, I looked up at the clock and saw that Vinyl was indeed running late, even by her standards.

I walked around the concert hall before catching Vinyl walking in through one of the back doors. She was hauling around some large piece of equipment that made up part of her DJing gear.

I tried to keep my tone from being reproachful towards her. “Vinyl, where have you been? We both agreed to meet at ten in the morning.”

“Sorry. It took me a while to check in with the front and then get my wagon around to the back.” She motioned with her head towards the open door behind her. “Had to get them to unlock the back door so I could drag my stuff in.”

I shook my head at her excuse. It wasn’t one I could really argue with. I knew all too well from past experience how long it could take to move around equipment and get everything in place for a performance.

“Do you need any help moving all of that?” I asked. I figured I might as well help Vinyl move along if I could.

“Yeah, sure.” Vinyl put down the piece of equipment she had been carrying down into one of the larger practice rooms. “I got a key to one of the rooms here, so I can just lock up everything we need here instead of dragging it back and forth.”

I considered that for a moment and then nodded. “That does sound convenient.” I had to give Vinyl some credit for her foresight. Frankly, it had surprised me a bit, though I suppose she did have quite a bit of experience moving around everything she needed for her performances. I had an idea just how much of a hassle that could be just from carrying an instrument as large as I was from one destination to another. I was a bit worried about the safety of her equipment if she intended to leave some of it for the night, but at the end of the day it was Vinyl’s risk to take.

The two of us walked outside the back doors of the concert hall. There I saw Vinyl’s personal affront against all things of good taste—the Wubs-Wagon. A gaudy thing intended to unleash dubstep on an unsuspecting world, the Wubs-Wagon had been painted to match Vinyl’s own coat and mane colors. The thing was covered in script detailing the services Vinyl offered and how best to contact her, in addition to a series of eye-rolling-worthy slogans like “Wub the DJ” and “Scratch for DJ.”

Vinyl noted the disapproving look I was giving the wagon. “Don’t ya say anything about my rad wheels again like last time.”

“Oh, I think it speaks for itself,” I said sarcastically.

Vinyl’s eyes lit up and she flashed me a wicked grin. “Darn right it does! It’s only the bestest wagon in all of Canterlot!”

I let out a long, patient groan. How Vinyl could stand to be affiliated with such a tacky-looking thing, I would never understand. “Can we just unpack your things—and quickly? I don’t want to be seen with that affront to all things fashionable in public.”

“I don’t blame you,” said a mezzo voice from behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I spun around to face an all-too-familiar light pink unicorn mare, giving me and Vinyl a smug grin. “It is rather an abomination, isn’t it?”

I saw Vinyl give her an unimpressed look through her shades. “Hey, Tavi. Who’s Miss Snooty McJerkypants over there?”

I narrowed my eyes at the lyrist leaning confidently against the concert hall’s doorway. “Vinyl, this is Quaver. She is the head of her section amongst the lyrists in the Canterlot Royal Symphonic Orchestra. Quaver, this is my friend Vinyl Scratch.”

I could have introduced Vinyl by her occupation, but I decided it was best to draw the potential battle lines where they were with my potential rival in Quaver by calling Vinyl my friend. At least I was going to err on the side of caution where the lyrist was concerned and guess that she was going to play the role of rival. No doubt she wanted to be the one to perform for the charity concert, both for the prestige of doing so and the attention it would bring to her from Canterlot’s elite, and it was a fact that Vinyl and I were the ones standing in her way. Quaver struck me as the type to take any advantage she could, including any perceived divisions between two ponies about to play a concert.

Quaver pushed off the doorframe and walked up to look down on Vinyl, both figuratively and literally. “So this is the Vinyl Scratch that all the kids are raving about?” She sniffed with an edge of disappointment. “Don’t see what all the craze is about.”

Vinyl didn’t look the least bit fazed by Quaver’s words and gave her the grin of a pony looking forward to a challenge. “Maybe if ya used your ears a bit more, you’d hear how crazy awesome my tunes are.”

“I’ve heard more than enough of what you call music.” Quaver closed her eyes and shook her head dismissively, causing her long yellow mane to flick about. “My sister had taken a liking to that noise you call music, and I fear the damage it has done to my hearing.”

“Hey, sorry if you can’t take the awesome.” Vinyl made her way to the back of her wagon and opened its back. “It’s okay, not everypony can handle the wubs.”

Quaver rolled her eyes and turned to me with a smirk that I did not like the look of. “Are you listening to this pony, Octavia? She actually thinks that rhythmless garbage can actually be called music.”

I could tell exactly what type of game Quaver was playing. She was trying to create a wedge between me and Vinyl at a critical moment. I had seen more than one friendship irreparably damaged in much this manner, and I wasn’t going to have any of it.

I shrugged and walked over to help Vinyl lift her equipment out of her wagon. “I’ll admit to not being wild about the genre, but I have enjoyed a couple of my friend’s songs.” I gave Vinyl a quick smile. “And who really knows what the future of music will be? It wasn’t that long ago that a lot of ponies considered jazz and rock to be degenerate forms of music.”

Quaver’s smirk never lost any of its self-assurance as she watched us unload Vinyl’s things. “So you think you can produce something ... tolerable with her?”

I slid one of Vinyl’s boomboxes onto my back with a grunt. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Vinyl waved dismissively. “Chillax! I totally got this.” With a spell that made me feel like Vinyl was cheating, she made a light cobalt disk appear and started levitating her equipment onto it.

“You do?” I asked skeptically.

Vinyl blew a raspberry. “Hay yeah. I’m the master of mixing genres. We’re gonna make somethin’ that will blow everypony’s socks off.”

Deciding I didn’t particularly want to carry around something large, heavy, and probably expensive, I slid the boombox onto Vinyl’s magical disk. “A concert for the Canterlot elite really isn’t a sock type of occasion.”

“Ya know what I mean.” Vinyl wrapped a leg around my neck and leaned into me. “I’ve been looking forward to playing with you since forever, Tavi.”

I cocked my eyebrow at that. I had made such an effort not to perform with my friend in the past, that I had never really considered what her thoughts on the topic might be. “You have?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to create some rad tunes with my PFF?” Vinyl pressed a hoof into the side of her skull. “I got so many ideas crammed in my head. They’re all just rushin’ to burst out in concentrated awesome.”

I loaded another box onto the disk, filling its surface area. “What did you have in mind?” I was curious about just what Vinyl had come up with. Honestly, I hadn’t come up with anything in the spare time I had since last I had seen Vinyl. Admittedly, I didn’t have nearly as much experience with original composition as she did, so this type of thing may very well have come more naturally to her. Especially if she had been thinking over the possibilities for quite some time, like she claimed.

Quaver made a short bark of a laugh. “You’re actually listening to this flash in the pan, Octavia?”

I walked up to the doorway, making sure the door wouldn’t suddenly close and hit Vinyl’s disk and knock everything to the ground. I would never be so rude as to suggest Quaver would do something quite so blatant, of course, but accidents do happen—and a surprising number of accidents could be quite deliberate. “I’m willing to let Vinyl show me what she has in mind. We are supposed to be working together.”

Quaver stepped out of our way to let us into the concert hall. “Best of luck with that. I’m sure you will need it.”

I gave Quaver one last parting shot as we passed her. “Shouldn’t you be practicing? I mean, you have such an important role in the upcoming concert. Must be so hard.”

“Ooh, nice burn.” Vinyl maneuvered her magic disk through the doorway, giving Quaver a playful smirk as she passed.

Quaver scowled at the two of us as we walked past her. For somepony like Quaver, not being in the spotlight might as well mean she didn’t exist at all—and that was as great of an insult as any I could ever come up with for her.





It turned out that Vinyl had indeed put a great deal of thought into a collaboration between us. Though it took a little bit of effort between Vinyl’s excitable ramblings of ideas and time to read the chicken scrawl that Vinyl called writing, a vision of what Vinyl had in mind started to form in front of me. My playing of the cello would be the central focus of the concert, but it would be accentuated by Vinyl’s own brand of music. My melody to her harmony, the range of my cello accompanied by the wide variety of notes and sounds Vinyl could provide to bring a unique auditory flavor to the audience.

It felt rather comforting as the two of us sat down and began the process of writing and fine tuning the songs we would be playing at the concert. Though Vinyl may have been an unusual collaborator, the process of planning out our performance was a familiar one. My initial fears were allayed by Vinyl’s enthusiasm and prior work, and that fear turned to optimism as our work bore fruit into something I could actually feel proud of being a part of. What we were creating wasn’t my usual fare, but in a way, that made it all the more exciting.

My confidence only grew as we put the notes on sheets of music into practice and played out loud in the practice room. We found what worked, what didn’t, and made modifications and changes as we went. Before I knew it, better than a week had passed since we started our work. That part of the work done, we had began the process of setting Vinyl’s equipment up in the main concert hall and started our practice there. Vinyl wanted to fine tune her equipment and its placement in the hall to improve how it sounded. It turned out she put a great deal of work into making sure everything sounded just right to her ears. This hard-working, perfectionist side to my friend was a very different from the one I was used to, and it was one the professional musician in me could appreciate.

Things seemed to be going quite well over the next couple of days. But as I suspected they would, our attempts to create a harmonious style between the two of us did not go perfectly.

I stopping playing during one of our runs through a song and let out a sharp breath. “Vinyl!” She hadn't heard me the first time, not surprising given the racket she was causing, and I yelled louder. “Vinyl!”

Vinyl finally stopped playing and moved her headset down to her neck. “What’d ya stop for? We were really rockin’ there!”

I rubbed at the sides of my head and closed my eyes. Being blasted by Vinyl’s music all day was giving me a terrible headache. “Yes, you were rocking. I was getting drowned out by your wubs ... again!”

Vinyl twisted a few knobs on her arcane music player. “It sounded good to me.”

I ground my teeth. “Probably because the only thing you could hear was yourself.” This had been a problem all day, and my nerves were becoming extremely worn by it. “That heavy bass you keep pumping out is overwhelming my cello.”

“Can’t you play louder?” she asked, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“No!” I tapped the side of my instrument. “This is a string instrument. I can only play it so loudly. Unlike that magical ... machine ... thing you are giving me a concussion with.”

Vinyl crossed her forelegs over her chest. “Hey, not my fault the DJ Master Awesomatic 4700 makes your cello look weak.”

I stomped a hoof. “My cello is not ‘weak.’ Also, I don’t think our audience of the Canterlot elite are going to enjoy getting their eardrums blasted out. Here.” I stepped back behind her magical DJ box and looked around at the various buttons, levers, and knobs that made up the controls of the infernal contraption. “Let me just turn down the...” I suddenly felt terribly out of my depth as I looked over the controls.

“Problem?” Vinyl gave me a smug smirk that made me want to throttle her. Being the upstanding, proper mare I was, I refrained. Barely.

I sighed and rubbed at my face. “How do you turn this thing’s volume down?”

“What, don’t know how to work one of these babies?” I could feel the joy Vinyl was getting out of my own ignorance about how her equipment worked.

“Because it’s made for unicorns!” I snapped. “You need unicorn magic to power this thing, and in case you didn’t notice—” I tapped my forehead where a horn would be if I were a unicorn, “—I’m not one.”

Vinyl flinched away from me. “Geez, don’t get all snippy with me.” She stepped up beside me next to the DJ box. “What’d ya want to turn down.”

I took a breath as I tried to calm myself. Blowing up on Vinyl wasn’t going to help get work done, and we didn’t have forever to prepare for the concert. “Those infernal wubs. I know for a fact we can balance those with the rest of the music much better then we have been thus far.”

I saw one of the knobs embraced by Vinyl’s telekinetic field and then turned—barely. 

“More,” I said firmly. “Unless that knob is a lot more sensitive the I’m imagining it.”

Vinyl tipped her shades up to her forehead, a look of shock in her eyes. “What? No way! You’ll barely even feel the wubs shaking your chest if I go down much further.”

I fixed Vinyl with the most serious stare I could manage. If we were going to get anywhere, we needed to bring the volume down to acceptable limits. “A grave crime against dubstep, I’m sure. Bring it down, now.”

“Fiiine,” she growled and turned down the volume. “We’ll try it your way for a bit.”

“Thank you,” I huffed. I went back to my place on the stage and brought my cello up to play. “Now, again from the top.”

It was a long day in what was becoming a very long week.





I returned home feeling like a wreck. It was quite a relief to come back to my private bastion from the madness of the world.

My apartment was of a modest size, all things considered. Being perched on the side of a mountain caused space to come at a premium in Canterlot. Only the extremely rich like House Sparkle could afford a large plot of land. Most ponies in Canterlot either had a shop they ran and lived in the building’s second floor, or, like me, rented an apartment.

Instead of investing in space, most ponies spent their bits on furnishing and decorating their apartments and enjoying the many luxuries the city of Canterlot offered. It’s probably why many ponies considered Canterlot to look so decadent; ponies spent more per ponylength of space then they did in the countryside, or even in most cities.

I was fairly well off, relatively speaking. I had my modest-sized apartment with a good view of the Equestrian countryside, classy furniture and art pieces to decorate its rooms and give my apartment a cultured and refined atmosphere.

I was so weary it was all I could do to put my cello in its designated spot in my music room and grab a couple of pills to help with my pounding headache before I crashed on my couch. I let out a groan and closed my eyes as I leaned my head against one of the pillows.

I woke with a start sometime later. The last glimmer of twilight had been setting when I had arrived at my apartment, and it was now completely dark outside. Thankfully, my wubs-induced headache had subsided to a dull throb in the back of my head. I considered just going back to sleep, but found myself to be wide awake after shifting positions to make myself more comfortable. It took me a few minutes to finally summon the will to pull myself off the couch and turn on some of the lights around the apartment.

I retrieved a meal of some leftover salad and sliced fruit, eating enthusiastically as I went through the daily motions of living. Working with Vinyl had become a grind that wore away at my body, mind, and spirit. Coming up with songs that combined both of our musical styles in a way that had never been done before had been ambitious to say the least, and we were paying for that ambition every day. It didn’t help that Vinyl seemed to dig in her hooves at every juncture and insisted on doing things her way instead of listening to my reasonable suggestions.

Thinking over the whole affair just made my headache return, and I was forced to take more medicine to fight it down. The number of pills I had been taking the last few days made me worry that I might be developing an addiction.

I placed what remained of my leftovers back into my icebox and made my way to my living room. I considered doing some reading to pass the time before bed, but I didn’t really feel up to it. The book I was currently reading through had been rather dull, despite one of my fellow musician’s insistence that it was supposed to be quite entertaining and thrilling, and I was seriously considering abandoning it for another. Though I wasn’t sure which book I wanted to pick up next if I decided on that course of action.

Sighing, I instead turned to my record player. It struck me as the perfect means by which to pass this melancholic mood I was in. I flipped through my records, trying to find something that fit my current mood. My curiosity was queerly piqued when I noticed one of Vinyl’s records amongst my collection. I pulled the record out and looked at it.

The cover showed Vinyl dancing at some club, with lights flashing and enough glow sticks tied around her that I was sure she could be seen at cloud level. I smirked at the somewhat ridiculous image of my friend and turned the cover’s back to look at the listing of songs. Gleaning nothing from reading the names of the songs, I placed the disk on the record player. Perhaps I could understand what Vinyl was trying to do if I listened to some of her music.

I was immediately blasted by a cacophony of noise and wubs the moment the needle hit the record. My ears flattened to my head as I winced and scrambled to turned the volume down on my stereo system, eventually finding a level of sound that didn’t make me worry about having the gendarme show up at my door with a noise complaint.

I tried listening to the song for a while, but I just couldn’t get into it. The racket it caused just didn’t appeal to me. I waited for the next song to play, and found it similar to Vinyl’s part for one of our songs. I ground my teeth as I patiently waited for the next song to play. I found it to be a contest of endurance as I listened to one song after another that I thoroughly did not enjoy. I listened to a song, trying to at least understand the genre. Try as I might, I just didn’t find any of the songs I listened appealing. Soon I reached the end of the record and let out a frustrated groan.

Finding that little venture to be less than helpful, I put Vinyl’s disk back in its cover and retrieved one much more to my liking. I selected it for a band that I enjoyed and personally knew that did modern recordings of a selection of classics from some classical composers and put it onto my record player. Met with the sweet flowing music that reminded me of the vibrancy of spring, I plopped myself down on my couch, content to relax for at least as long as the record played.

I closed my eyes as I let the music wash over me, letting each of the instruments in question work in concert with one another to create their symphony of audible delight. It was when the fourth track was in the middle of its second movement that a note of recognition hit me. I listened more closely, analysing the song to see what had piqued my interest.

After listening for a minute, I realized what it was; I recognized the lyrist. I grabbed the album cover and examined its back. I read who had played for the album and confirmed that Quaver had indeed played for many of the songs for the album. I was surprised I hadn’t recognized that fact before.

I let the songs continue to play through my apartment, intently paying careful attention to Quaver’s playing. Her use of the lyre was quite exquisite. Her interpretations of the classics struck a chord within me, and her balance with her fellow musicians superb. She was a true master of her craft.

I considered how much better it would have been to work with Quaver instead of Vinyl. True, Quaver was on the insufferable side, but her music was compatible with my own, and I knew the two of us could put on a brilliant performance. At least, if she could put aside her arrogance long enough for us to play for a couple of hours, which, given the evidence of the existence of the album I was listening to, was possible. Listening to the record, I could imagine Quaver and I working in perfect concert.

I felt a pang of guilt over those thoughts. True, playing with Quaver was more practical, but it didn’t feel right to dismiss my friend so casually. My life couldn’t be simple. The world seemed so cruel at times.

Eventually, the record reached its end, leaving me with silence and my own thoughts.





A few days later, the two of us were still working away at trying to put together our upcoming performance. Progress had been slow. Usually we would break down into a headbutting contest to see which of our heads was harder on each issue that came up. Vinyl also started to suffer equipment failures, which only added to our stress and delays. I couldn’t help but feel as though I were cursed, a stage light broke, the curtain nearly fell on me, and I lost the keys to my home while at the concert hall. Also, Vinyl’s music was giving me a frightful headache that just seemed to go from day to day. I was just thankful that I kept pills in my instrument case to help with that problem.

I had come back to the main concert hall from relieving myself in the restroom when I heard Vinyl make a startled yelp, followed by the sound of her head hitting the inside of her arcane music box. She pulled herself out of the machine, shaking out one of her hooves and rubbing the back of her head.

Vinyl was in the process of exclaiming several phrases I was fairly sure her mother would not approve of when I walked up to her. “Are you alright?”

Vinyl let out another pained grunt. “Yeah, fine.” She took a moment to suck on her fetlock. “Just got myself zapped. The stupid magical matrix got busted somehow, and...” Vinyl trailed off and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it; it's nothing.”

I tilted my head as I examined her. “Is everything alright? You’ve been having a lot of equipment trouble the last couple of days.” I couldn’t help but notice the small plume of smoke coming out of Vinyl’s contraption. The thing could only be properly operated by unicorns, so I only had a rudimentary idea of how it worked. Still, I had a pretty good idea that it giving off black smoke like that was not a good thing.

Vinyl gave me a look I couldn’t read before shaking her head. “Yeah, been that type of day where a bunch of stuff’s been breakin’.” That had been true. I had just gone to the restroom to give Vinyl some time to fix the latest offending piece of equipment. “You were gone a while, ya know?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “The door got wedged shut somehow. Maybe the humidity warped the restroom door or something. Almost had to buck the door off its hinges.” I frowned as I considered our recent troubles. “Will you be able to get everything back up soon? We don’t have a whole lot of time left to practice.”

“I know, I know,” Vinyl said with a frustrated growl. She lifted up her shades and rubbed at her eyes. I had left Vinyl the previous night when something else had broken down, and now I had to wonder when she had gotten home to get some sleep. “How about you just play your cello for a bit while I pop in a backup matrix. It’s not as good as the one that died on me, but it’ll be fine until I can get a new one later.”

“Sure, there were a couple sections I wanted to hammer myself anyways.” I nodded wearily and yawned. The last couple of days were wearing on me. Long hours writing music, editing said music, setting up equipment, practicing, and keeping up with everything else on my place was driving me to exhaustion.

I left Vinyl to her work and went to my cello, which was sitting at the center of the concert hall’s stage. My worries had began to increase again with the latest accidents, mishaps, and equipment failures. I was really beginning to wonder how Vinyl managed if her equipment was so prone to breakdowns.

In any event, I put my worries to the side and took a long, comforting breath as I got into my upright playing stance with my cello. I could always find at least some comfort in my music.

I ran my bow over the strings of my cello when all of its strings suddenly snapped on me. I let out a vile curse that made my own ears burn when I realized what I had said.

Vinyl peeked out from around the side of her machine to look at me. “Everything cool over there?”

I growled and put my instrument down before I did something stupid like throw it in a fit of rage. Throwing a purse full of bits would have been less expensive than throwing my cello. “Yes, it’s just that all the strings on my cello broke. Can’t remember the last time something like that happened.”

Wait. That wasn’t necessarily true; I could, upon reflection. It had been right before a performance a few years ago when one of my fellow cellists had rather pointedly tried to push me off my throne as the head of our section. He had gotten caught and fired later on, but I would have been in trouble had not one of the other, much kinder, cellists in our group not have loaned me a few strings for the night.

It was why I always made it a point to have at least a full set of new strings at the ready at all times in my instrument case. So, I opened up my instrument case and rummaged through it. After a couple of frustrated minutes of failing to find my reserve strings, I slammed my case shut with a huff.

I tapped my hoof on the top of my case as I started to think less than pleasant thoughts. “Vinyl, has anypony else been on the stage since I left for the restroom?”

I saw Vinyl’s legs sticking out from her player and her voice echoed out from under it. “I don’t think so. Didn’t hear anypony anyways. Been working on this hunk of junk.” I heard Vinyl struggle with something and then a yelp of pain and more cursing.

I felt old worries and suspicions start to come over me. I didn’t want to think it, but I couldn’t help but consider the fact that it sounded like Vinyl had been alone with my instrument and case, and their respective strings. It was possible that Vinyl had cut the strings on my cello and hidden away the others to sabotage me, but it seemed so unlike her. Still, I could think of any number of possibilities and ways for Vinyl to gain over embarrassing me. I tried to repress the idea, but memories of old betrayals came to mind. Far, far too many betrayals over the years.

I closed my eyes and rubbed at the stinging sensation in them. “Vinyl, I think I’m going to call it a day. It seems I ran out of strings for my cello, and all the stores nearby are closed. I have some more at home, but I think I’m done for now.”

Vinyl pushed herself out from under her musical machine and looked towards me. “You cool there?” She stood up and walked over to kneel down beside me. A frown creased her lips and she put a comforting hoof on my shoulder. “Hey, I know today’s been kinda rough, but we’ll get through it. Everypony has a rotten day sooner or later.”

I wiped at my eyes some more to clear away the wetness. “Sorry ... just some bad memories were brought up.” Not to mention the guilt over thinking my best friend would do something as petty at cut my cello’s strings—a friend who had been nothing but good to me.

She hesitated a moment before a smile came to her face. “Hey, forget all this. How about we go out and get a drink? Like old times. I know this place with some good cognac.”

“I don’t know, seems to be a bit silly. Especially with all the work we still have to do.” I didn’t want to admit it, but I also felt ashamed of suspecting my best friend of sabotaging me. Even if it was true, which I severely doubted, the thought hurt too much for me to even properly register at that moment. I was tired, strung out, and wanted to go home in order to plop myself down in my bed. As a result, I wasn’t sure if I could really face her at that moment.

Vinyl jumped to her hooves and started to drag me up. “Oh come on! Don’t tell me you forgot how to have fun already! Let’s just spend a couple of hours getting a drink, get a bit to eat, and then get some rest for a fresh start tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

I considered for a long moment to turn her down, but a look into her bright eyes, shining even through her shades and that goofy grin on her face, made that impossible for me. Vinyl was my friend, and that’s all there was to it.

I let out a long sigh and then nodded slowly as Vinyl helped bring me to my hooves. “Alright, we can do that.” I gave her a sad smile. “Just like old times.”





“Vinyl, this is a nightclub, not a bar.” My ears flattened to my head to block off the noise. For at the volume the music was being played, even the most beautifully played song could only be declared noise.

As a rule, I am not a fan of nightclubs. I’m not comfortable in them. Being crammed in like hay in a bale of straw made me claustrophobic. I particularly didn’t like it when the music is being played so loud that I can’t hear myself think, much less what the pony beside me is saying. Case in point: Vinyl was saying something less than a pony length away from me, and I could only catch bits a pieces of what she was saying.

“What!?” I yelled over the blaring music. “I can’t hear a thing!”

I got the sense that Vinyl rolled her eyes, though it was hard to tell with the lighting and her shades, and she dragged me through the crowd to one of the tables. Admittedly, the music wasn’t as loud now that we were further away from the DJ, and I could finally make out what Vinyl was saying. “I saaaid, let’s sit down at this table.”

“Oh ... okay then.” I sat down in the booth we were standing next to, and Vinyl sat down opposite of me.

“Now if you don’t mind...” Vinyl dramatically trailed off and then let her forehead slam into the table. “Tell me when the waiter arrives, because after today, I want something strong.”

I propped my elbow on the table and laid my head on my hoof. “I know the feeling.”

A waiter arrived at our table and pointed to a series of folders on the far end of the table. “Your menus are right over there.” She pulled up the chalkboard around her neck to write down our order. “So what would you two like?”

I picked up a menu and started looking it over. “Cognac. Bring a glass and leave the bottle.” Feeling the need to explain myself, I gave the waiter a sheepish shrug. “Been that type of day. Also, some chips and salsa please.”

Vinyl slammed her menu down dramatically and jabbed her hoof into the menu. “I want a Rainbow Sunrise.” She gave me a cocky grin. “I hear that the liquid rainbow they put in it really gives it a nice kick. And ... a Celestia Sunbomb Special.”

I scratched at the corner of my mouth as I tried to find the drinks Vinyl had ordered on the menu. “Do you even know what that is? Sounds like some sort of mixer.”

Vinyl waved me off. “No, but it sounds strong, and that's what I want!”

I let out a patient sigh as I rubbed at my eye. “Is this going to be one of those nights where I have to drag you home drunk?”

Vinyl blew a raspberry my way. “I don’t get blitzed every night I go out drinkin’.”

“Just most,” I teased. Vinyl had a tendency to have a bit more than she could really handle. Sometimes I wondered where her image of being a hard partying DJ began and ended.

She crossed her forelegs over her chest and pouted. “I’m not that bad.”

I smirked and remembered past drinking experiences with her over the years. “You’re pretty bad.”

Vinyl looked like she was going to protest some more when the waiter arrived. She put the drinks down on the table. Without any ceremony or warning, Vinyl picked up the appropriately named Rainbow Sunrise and hammered it back. I would guess she immediately regretted that as she started gasping, gagging, and coughing.

My eyebrows raised as I started to worry Vinyl might collapse right there. “Are you okay?”

She coughed violently a few more times but then nodded. “M’fine.” She wiped at her sweat covered brow and then nudged the glass towards the waiter. “Gimme another.”

“Vinyl!” I protested. I had to worry about how healthy a drink like that was for my friend.

“Right away, ma’am.” The waiter picked up the glass without missing a beat and left for the bar. Obviously, she didn’t care so much about what types of poisons her customers put into themselves.

Vinyl motioned towards me with her other glass. “Tavi, I’ve had a super long day trying to fix everything for the concert two days from now. I need this.”

I shook my head and looked at the menu to see if there was anything else worth ordering. “You’re going to wake up a mess at this rate.”

“That’s for me to worry about tomorrow.” Before I could raise a protest, she shot back her second glass containing the Celestia Sunbomb Surprise. Vinyl was nearly knocked out of her seat by whatever was in that glass, and she went into another coughing fit.

Seeing no way to protect my friend from herself at this point, I poured myself a glass of cognac from the bottle the waiter had left. Desperately wanting some alcohol in my own system, I quickly drank the glass, feeling a burning sensation from the drink all the way down to my stomach. I cleared my throat and poured another glass, determining I would sit back and enjoy this one a bit more than the first. The brand seemed to be of a middling affair, but it would do for the time being.

I looked back to my friend, and was encouraged to see that she hadn’t collapsed from whatever vile concoction she had just put into herself. “You going to live there?”

“M’fine,” she gasped out. Vinyl coughed again and waved a bit. “Just’a ... bit stronger than I thought.”

“Mmm.” I took a sip of my cognac. “Just don’t drink yourself to the point you can’t even walk. You’re a pain to carry around on my back.” I was pretty much convinced that it was going to be another night where I dragged my friend home to sleep it off. Just one of those things I did in the name of friendship.

Vinyl gave me a cheeky salute. “Can do, bossy lady.” The waiter returned to drop off another Rainbow Sunrise, which thankfully, Vinyl only sipped at rather than downing in one go like her previous two drinks. “So, Tavi, mind if I ask you somethin’?”

I shrugged, seeing no issue with my friend asking a question. Though it was a bit odd to see Vinyl ask first instead of just jumping into whatever she wanted to ask like she usually did. “I don’t see why not. Ask.”

“Sooo, um, yeah...” Vinyl took a moment to continue, making me wonder just how hard those drinks had hit her. “Why’ya treatin’ this like any other job?”

I tilted my head, not quite sure what Vinyl was getting at. “What do you mean?”

Vinyl leaned onto the table and closer to me. “Well ya know? ‘S supposed to help ther’ orphans.”

It took me a couple of seconds to figure out what Vinyl was getting at, and my eyebrows raise. “Ah, you think I don’t care?”

“Well, um, err...” Vinyl looked away and rubbed the back of her neck. Poor Vinyl. Her drinks had taken away what little social grace she had.

I took a sip and shook my head before replying. “It’s not like I don’t care. It is for a good cause. Just...” I shrugged, having trouble finding the proper words for what I wanted to say. “I guess I’m a bit jaded to it all. I’ve been doing these types of things since I was a teenager, and after you’ve done a hundred of them, it all just blurs together. After a while ... it seems like another part of the job, and in a lot of ways it is, considering half of it is to make my patrons happy and get attention for myself.” That admission didn’t make me particularly happy. It made me sound more like a cynic then I really felt.

As the paragon of social grace she is, Vinyl let out a loud belch and belatedly covered her mouth. “Sorry. But I guess I can understand that. Kinda dumb how it works though. All them snooty nobles powwowing ‘round. Like at that dumb party last week.”

I sighed, looking down at my drink as I rotated it back and forth on the hardwood table. I could see it from Vinyl’s perspective, even if it was a less-than-sober one. It wasn’t exactly hard to see the whole of Canterlot’s elite as a frivolous bunch. “I know, but ... it’s a bit more complex than that. My dad put it to me in a fairly succinct way once. There’s two types of ponies in Canterlot’s elite that go to all these social events. The first are the types who just want to be seen; they’re your typical socialites you normally think of when you think of Canterlot’s elites. Your Bluebloods and Jet Sets of the lot. The second are those on business. Either they want to meet somepony, introduce somepony, make some business deal, whatever. Those are your Sparkles and Fancy Pants.”

Vinyl nodded in agreement. “Yeah ... Mom ‘nd Dad put it like tha’ once. Ponies that’re importan’ an’ ponies who wanna look importan’.”

I drank a gulp from my cup and then refilled it. “Can’t tell which group is worse sometimes. One group is made up of good-for-nothings, and the other seems to be driven by nothing but ambition at times.” I took another gulp of my cognac. “Ugh, all I want to do is play my music.”

“Don’t I know it.” Vinyl placed her head down on the table. “Kinda wish I could just buck them all to the corner.” She made a derisive snort. “Shame some of ‘em are cool.” With an upturn of her glass, she finished up another of those Rainbow Sunrises and shook her head. “I mean, Dad’s alright. He’s always been there for Mom—like when she was really super sick a couple years ago.” She shrugged, an ambivalent motion, as she seemed to be deep in her own thoughts. “And he’s been cool with me, I guess. Better than how a lot of other bastards get treated by their sires, anyways. Be easier if they were all jerks. Then I could tell all of them to buck off.”

I knew who Vinyl’s father was, and most of what there was to know about that rather complex relationship. It hadn’t taken me long to notice that Vinyl didn’t have a publically-acknowledged sire. There were certainly plenty of bastards of the nobility running around in places like Canterlot. Most nobles married for political reasons, and as a result, many took up lovers outside of their marriages. From what I had gathered, it was a relatively common, if unspoken, practice. As a result, illegitimate children such as Vinyl were a common enough, if unacknowledged, feature of the upper echelons of Canterlot society.

I had guessed who Vinyl’s sire was not long after we had become friends. There were certainly plenty of rumors on the matter, and it was a rather poorly kept secret. It wasn’t very hard to guess once one saw Vinyl’s father’s relationship with her and her mother. Vinyl had even confided the truth with me a few years ago.

I swirled around my drink, watching as it splashed around in the cup. “That would make everything a bit simpler. Not that it’s only the nobles who can be uncouth around here.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Don’t e’en get me started.” Much to my chagrin, another of those rainbow colored drinks was placed in front of Vinyl, and she immediately started partaking of it.

I rubbed at the growing pain in my forehead. The exhaustion of the last week was weighing more heavily on me than ever. “I just wish I knew who I could trust sometimes.” I looked to my drink intently enough that at first I didn’t notice Vinyl starting to sob. My eyebrow raised as I watched my friend’s sudden emotional outburst. I put my glass down in order to give her my full attention.

I put a hoof on one of her legs that was outstretched on the table. “Vinyl, is everything okay?”

“‘M sowry, Tavi.” Her chest heaved with sobs, and I saw the tears working their way down her cheeks. “‘M sowry.”

Seeing my friend falling apart at the seams, I stood moved to Vinyl’s side of the booth and scooted her over so that I could pull her into a gentle hug. “Hey, it’s alright. Tell me about it.”

Vinyl leaned into me and laid her head against my chest. “B-but, I-I thought y-you m-might ‘ave been the-the one to mess up all my eque-ecuee-stuff.” That caused me to jerk. In my weariness, I hadn’t considered that Vinyl’s trouble with her equipment might be a result of something other than something mundane. “B-but th-that’s sooo dumb. I k-know ya wouldn’ do somethin’ l-like tha’. B-because you’re Tavi. And Tavi wouldn’ do s-something d-dumb like mess with my s-stuff.”

I patted Vinyl on the back to comfort her. “It’s fine, Vinyl. I ... thought the same for a minute there.”

Vinyl’s features contorted in confusion. “Wha-whugh-huh?”

I lifted up her chin so that I could give her a comforting smile. “Look, it’s been a long day. How about I drag you home with me, and we sleep it off. We’ll discuss everything in the morning.”

Vinyl moved to push me off of her, the spark of defiance she always had coming forth. “N-no way! We’re talkin’ ‘bout this—” Whatever Vinyl was about to say was interrupted when she vomited into my lap. Needless to say, that did an effective job of bringing our conversation to an end.


> Third Movement: Harmony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Incredibly Trying Performance of Octavia


Third Movement: Harmony 


I squinted my eyes against the sunlight as I woke up to a headache. I rolled over in my bed and rubbed at my eyes as I slowly came back to my senses. Piece by piece, my mind put together the events of the past couple of days, especially those of the previous night. I remembered having to carry Vinyl back to my own apartment. It struck me as a better idea to drag her with me to my own home than go through the efforts of taking my all-but-unconscious friend back to her apartment and getting her situated. Instead I laid her on my couch, put a pillow under head and some sheets on her, and called it good.

Taking stock of myself, I determined my current foul-feeling state had more to do with fatigue and stress than the drinks from the previous night. It didn’t feel like I was going to be getting any more sleep, so I rolled out of bed with a groan and made my way gingerly to my bathroom. Starting with a couple of pills to deal with the pounding in my head, I proceeded to do my usual daily grooming rituals to get myself ready for the new day: brushing my teeth, grooming my mane and coat, and applying a modest amount of makeup.

I noted with disdain the splotch across my lap. It was still slightly discolored by the rainbow concoction which Vinyl had put into her body ... and then promptly delivered onto me. I had to wonder if I was going to have to get a coat dye to cover the blemish before the concert. It would be rather awkward to explain why that region of my coat was stained, especially considering the stance I had to take in order to play my cello would have featured my lap quite prominently.

That complete, I walked into my living room. Looking at the couch, I noticed that Vinyl was no longer there. A glance around my apartment confirmed that she was wasn’t around. I found that mildly surprising. I was no early bird; most of my work taking place during the afternoon or evening, but Vinyl was a night owl in comparison. DJing at clubs will do that to a pony. Additionally, she had been pretty thoroughly drunk from those mixers she had drank the previous night, and I severely doubted anypony could have easily bounced back from that bender of poisons.

It was possible Vinyl had managed to crawl off my couch and had made her way home or to someplace claiming to have a hangover cure. I decided I would go looking for her—after I got some coffee. No need to panic quite yet, and I wasn’t going to be helping anypony stumbling around half-asleep like a zombie.

So I went to my kitchen to make my coffee and get some breakfast. After pulling out a bowl and a spoon for some cereal, I opened the kitchen cabinet that held my coffee—only for Vinyl to fall out.

I let out a startled scream as Vinyl tumbled to the floor in a heap. “Vinyl! What are you doing in my kitchen cabinet!?”

“I don't know!” Vinyl winced at her own volume, and her ears flattened on her head. “And don't yell so loud,” she painfully groaned. She laid on my kitchen floor in a pitiful state with no visible motivation to move from where she was.

I took a moment to let my heart stop racing and spoke more quietly for Vinyl. She was probably quite miserable enough as it was. “This is why I told you not to drink too much.” I really had to wonder what in the world possessed Vinyl to climb into my kitchen cabinet like that. Those drinks must really not have agreed with her if she did something that bizarre.

“Ugggh, shut’p.” She covered her ears with her left foreleg while her right hung limply at an odd angle behind her back.

I leaned against my kitchen counter as I looked down at Vinyl. So maybe I was getting a little bit of smug satisfaction out of my friends self-inflicted misery. Only a little. “You alright there down there? Besides the headache, that is.”

Vinyl pointed at her limp right foreleg. “Cramp ... bad.”

“Geez, I don’t know why you would have a cramp from sleeping in my cabinet.” I sighed and knelt besides her. “Here, let me help you. Really, I have no idea how you fit in there.” I started massaging her leg, and after a couple of minutes of that, I carefully moved her leg back into place at her prompting.

There was an audible pop as Vinyl’s leg moved back into place, and she yelped in pain. “Owowow, needles! Needles all up my leg!” Given the way she vigorously shook her right leg, I was going to guess she was experiencing some discomfort as the blood started flowing in her leg once again. She moved her foreleg around for a bit more before she slowed down and went back to covering her head. “Ugh! I hate living.”

“I would say you’re learning a lesson, but I know you have too thick of a skull for that.” I shook my head and lifted Vinyl onto my back. “Let me get you to the couch.”  I walked over to the couch and placed her carefully down on it, moving the pillow under her head. “Just lie there for a minute.” She grunted in affirmation and pulled one of the sheets left from the previous night over her head.

I retrieved a glass of water and a couple pills to help Vinyl with her headache and laid them on the coffee table opposite of her. “Take those and drink up. Rehydrating yourself will help.” She groaned, but did as I said without complaint. Satisfied, I walked back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I fixed some sliced fruit and a couple bowls of cereal and cups of coffee, returning to living room and placing everything on the coffee table.

I pulled up a cushion and took a sip of my coffee, very glad to get some caffeine in my system. “You feeling better?”

Vinyl sat up and drank from her own mug. “Kinda.”

There was a long moment of silence between us that neither of us broke as we each partook of the breakfast I had prepared. Normally it would have been Vinyl who broke the silence in such situations, but it was likely her hangover was keeping her passive. I wasn’t the best at socializing, myself, so as the silence extended, I found it hard to really break. It didn’t help there were some issues that neither one of us really wanted to jump into.

But those issues did need to be addressed, and I steeled myself to start up a conversation. “So ... I’m ashamed to admit it, but for a moment there I was suspicious that you might have sabotaged my instrument.” Vinyl looked like she was about to object, but I raised a hoof to stop her. “I know you didn’t. You’ve been my friend for years, but circumstances made me consider the possibility. I’ve had some bad experiences in the past, but it isn’t fair to project that onto you. For that, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s cool, Tavi,” Vinyl said with a level of calm atypical for her. “I know you’re good for it. We all come up with boneheaded ideas now and then.” A bemused smirk creased her lips. “Even a pony as smart as you.”

A smile worked its way to my own lips. “Thanks. Even we clever ponies can make mistakes.”

Vinyl leaned back on the couch and rubbed at the sides of her head. “Not that I have much room to complain. What’s weird is that my gear kept breaking down when I knew it was in better shape than that. Most of it’s pretty new, and I’m always double-checking things to make sure it’s good for a gig.” She shrugged. “There’d been ponies hangin’ around, but I didn’t see nopony going near my stuff.”

I sipped my coffee as I thought over what to say next. “Seems we’ve both been so absorbed in our work that we haven’t really been thinking straight. I didn’t even really think about your equipment troubles.”

Vinyl grinned through her hangover. “So no more drama?”

I smirked at my friend. “No more drama.”

“Cool, because drama is dumb.”

I frowned at a disturbing thought. “Do you think that your problems might have been sabotage?”

Vinyl leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. “Never had that much trouble before. Like I said, all my stuff’s pretty new, and a lot of the stuff that broke was in the ‘I look big and expensive: break me’ category.”

I ate an orange slice as I considered that bit of information. It was rather suspicious when combined with everything else that happened, like my strings disappearing. “And anytime I had that much trouble with strings, there was something fishy going on.” I sat back and rubbed at my eyes. “Well then, it seems somepony is trying to ruin our upcoming performance.”

“Any idea who?” Vinyl slumped back down to lie on the couch. “Don’t wanna think right now.”

I chuckled at my friend. She could be so predictable in her own way. “I think I have an idea. Not too hard to guess just based on who would benefit from the two of us failing.”

“I’ll just take yer word on that. Cool?” Vinyl covered her eyes with one of her legs. “Ya got a plan? No offense, but I’d rather work on our tunes than replacing parts all day.”

I rubbed my chin until I came up with a solution. “Yes, I think I do.”





Later that day, Vinyl and I returned to the Canterlot Royal Concert Hall to continue practicing. Vinyl managed to repair her equipment, and we redoubled our efforts to perfect our upcoming performance. The two of us were more determined than ever to make our two styles mesh to create something worthy of being listened to. We had been butting heads like two cave-ponies for the past couple of days, and we were both at the point of wanting to move past that. So we concentrated on how best to mix the deep bass wubs of Vinyl’s music with my own cello and make them work in symphony with one another. By midday, it looked like we were making solid progress creating a harmonious balance despite a few hiccups.

I took a moment to catch my breath after the two of us finished a run through one of our songs, falling to all fours and letting my cello rest along my flank while I gave my back legs a break. Vinyl, for her part, took a quick swig from a bottle of water.

I gave my friend a knowing smile. “That was a good run, Vinyl. Are you getting hungry yet, because I’m about ready to get something to eat.”

Vinyl took off her headphones and placed them down on her DJing equipment. “Sure, that be cool. Anyplace ya wanna go?”

I placed my cello within its case and closed the cello within. “There is one restaurant down the street I haven’t been to in a while. They serve sandwiches I find rather delightful.”

Vinyl gave me a bemused shrug. “Works for me.” She gave me a playful poke to the ribs. “Your treat, right?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was your turn to pay.”

“Wait...” Vinyl rubbed her chin. “When did we start paying for each other’s meals?”

I started up the main aisle of the concert hall, and Vinyl followed. “Never, we’ve never done that.”

“Ah, right.”

Having successfully avoided Vinyl trying to get me to pay for her meal, the two of us exited the building through the front door. Instead of going to the restaurant I indicated earlier, the two of us quickly trotted around to the back of the concert hall. Vinyl cast a silence spell over the two of us to muffle our steps, and we quietly and without delay entered in through the back. The two of us snuck down one of the back hallways of the concert hall to make our way behind the main stage’s curtains, carefully out of sight of anypony who might have been in the seating section or on stage.

There we stood, quietly waiting. Vinyl opened her mouth for a yawn, but a glare from me stifled it. I turned back to the stage and saw that we weren’t going to have to wait long enough for Vinyl to blow our cover. At first I didn’t notice a pony trotting down the main aisle of the concert hall with unnatural silence. It was as though my vision was just flowing past her, as though she were the least interesting pony to look at. Indeed, I wondered if I would have noticed her at all if I hadn’t been actively looking for her.

I guessed that she must have been using some sort of spell to keep herself from being noticed. I had heard of such spells in the past, and it seemed that the pony before me knew one of them in addition to whatever version of the silence spell she had probably cast on herself. Ponies had been on and off the stage periodically while Vinyl and I had been practicing. I had hardly paid any of them any mind, and now it seemed highly probable that she could have snuck onto the stage without detection at any time when Vinyl and I hadn’t been paying attention or been away from the stage.

She looked around the stage and a malevolent glimmer entered her eyes when they fell upon my instrument case. She took a moment to look around the concert hall, most likely to be sure that it was indeed empty, and I took a step back further behind the curtains to be sure that I wouldn’t be spotted. Waiting a few seconds, I stepped back forward and saw her opening my case up.

With neither ceremony or hesitation, she rose a hoof and brought it down on my cello, and I heard the snap of breaking wood. I winced at the sound of my beloved instrument, and not being able to watch anymore, I burst out onto the stage with Vinyl right behind.

Quaver’s eye widened at the sight of me approaching her. “O-Octavia! But you—Vinyl!” She looked back and forth between me and Vinyl with a hint of panic in her eyes.

I stopped short of Quaver and waved in the direction of my cello. “Excuse me, but I can’t help but notice you’re about hoof deep in cello there. My cello,” I said rather pointedly.

Vinyl snorted angrily, and I was slightly worried that she would charge Quaver. “Hey, you were right, Tavi. It was Miss Quiver McSnootyPants who was messing with our stuff.”

“Quaver,” she corrected as she removed her hoof from the new hole in my cello. I had to resist an impulse to immediately run to my trusty, and very pricy, instrument, but I pushed it down. Business needed to be taken care of first.

“Whatever,” Vinyl waved Quaver off. “You’re still a jerk. Breaking another pony’s instrument—seriously not cool.”

Quaver regained her composure from being surprised by our sudden appearance and looked upon us with condescension She didn’t even bother to deny what she had done; we all knew what she had done and why. “And what are you going to do about it? Attack me? Beat me to a pulp? I’m sure the gendarme will love that.”

Vinyl scrapped a hoof on the floor in an aggressive manner. “I have half a mind to do just that!”

Vinyl took a step forward, but I raised a leg to block her, and gave Vinyl a shake of my head. “There’s no need for that.” Vinyl glowered at me but didn’t move to attack Quaver, which really would have complicated things.

I looked back to Quaver and gave her my own dismissive stare. “No, I think I would rather turn you into the gendarme. They are better at handling this type of thing, I think.”

Quaver let out a short bark of laughter. “As if they would really help.” She shot us a malevolent smirk. “It’s your word against mine on what may or may not have happened, and my patrons will protect me from being prosecuted.”

It was easy to see why Quaver was so confident. As she said, it would be my and Vinyl’s word against hers, which likely wouldn’t hold up in a court of law. Especially with patrons Baron Jet Set and Baroness Upper Crust helping her to get away with her acts of sabotage. If I had to guess, those two had probably either approved or encouraged Quaver’s actions from the start and had done so in the past to help along Quaver’s career. Of course, that’s why I made sure to stack the deck before this little confrontation.

I smirked at Quaver. “You are sure about that?”

The smugness coming off of Quaver was almost palatable. “You have nothing.”

From the other side of the stage, Duchess Sparkle dropped the illusory veil that had been covering her and the two gendarmes with her. She gave Quaver an amused smile. “Unless you happen to commit a crime right in front of the Royal Guard, that is.”

Quaver jerked in surprise and turned around to see exactly who was behind her. Her eyes widened and I could see sweat start to form on her brow. “B-but—how!? Why!? What are you doing here?”

Lady Sparkle brushed at her magus cloak as though to remove dirt in an unconcerned manner. “Octavia and Vinyl were rather kind enough to allow a patron of theirs to a preshowing of their concert for this weekend. So I’ve been taking the opportunity to listen and work on some paperwork. And not wanting to distract these two, I put up a veil to make myself unnoticeable.” She fixed Quaver with a predatory smile. “It can be rather intimidating to have a duchess watching what you’re doing. Don’t you think so, Quaver?”

“N-n-no!” Quaver started looking around desperately for an escape. She turned to the main entrance to the concert hall and looked ready to bolt when all the doors and exits of the concert hall became wrapped in the pink glow of Lady Sparkle’s magic and slammed shut. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen!”

I felt smug satisfaction as I saw my trap close around Quaver. “Your mistake, madam—and I use that term in the loosest possible sense—was in thinking that the same tactics you used to ruin the careers of more than one promising young musician would prove effective against established performers with wealthy, powerful patrons.”

Vinyl grinned and leaned an elbow on my back. “Yeah, I thought it would have been totally radical if Tavi would have confronted you, and then you would have ran off resulting in this big, awesome, over-the-top chase until Tavi caught you in some abandoned warehouse or something. Then there would have been this big epic slugout between you two that would have set the building on fire. And then Tavi would have beaten you in some crazy awesome way that would have ended with you lying broken and bleeding in the warehouse. Then Tavi would give you this awesome one liner while she all cool-like walked out of the warehouse right as it blew up.” Vinyl sighed and shrugged, the disappointment plain in her stance. “But Tavi did the practical and boring thing and got the gendarme to help instead.”

“As entertaining as the idea of treating your face the same way you treated my cello is—” I straightened my bow in a dramatic manner, “—I consider myself above such acts of senseless violence. Besides, the gendarme are good at this type of thing.”

Quaver shook, rage mixing with her fear. “Y-you think this is funny!?”

I ran a hoof through my mane as I smirked at her. “I do find some humor in you finally getting your comeuppance, yes. You made things rather rough for us for a couple of days, there.” I would bet bits to donuts that she had done similar acts to other musicians in the past. Some ponies were just bad eggs.

“There’s some good news over you being arrested though,” Vinyl’s tone was amused. “We really didn’t need ya for the concert, so no big loss, right?”

Quaver let out an inarticulate scream. She picked up a music sheet stand and jabbed it in Vinyl’s and my direction. I may be going out on a limb on this point, but I was going to guess that Quaver had finally lost it.

Lady Sparkle’s horn glowed more brightly. Her face became an expressionless mask. “Dear, you really don’t want to do that. You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

Quaver swung the music stand back and forth between all of the ponies gathered. “I-I’m not going to jail!” One of the swings came close enough that I felt a rush of air, and I was forced to take a few steps back for my own safety. 

Lady Sparkle let out a long sigh, and her features became grim. “Yes, you will.”

With almost insulting ease, the Duchess ripped the music stand from Quaver’s telekinetic grip with her own magic. Without missing a beat, she smacked Quaver in the horn with the stand, sending the unicorn reeling. The stand then swung to hit the lyrist in the back of the knee, buckling it. The duchess never let the stand stop moving, and with a loud smack, it crashed into Quaver’s ribs hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs and bend the stand. Quaver collapsed to the stage, gasping in pain from the sudden and violent onslaught.

I had heard that the Duchess was a magical powerhouse. In fact, the reason House Sparkle had come to possess and retain a duchy was because of their magical aptitude and service to the crowns. But, it is one thing to hear about how powerful a pony’s magic is, and it is another to actually see that pony in action. Quaver had been beaten so contemptuously that it had hardly counted as a contest.

It was a scary thing to see, in its own way.

Lady Sparkle pulled a magic inhibitor ring from within her cloak and levitated it onto Quaver’s horn. Not that Quaver looked like she was going to be in much shape to resist anytime soon.

Quaver shivered on the ground while holding herself in pain. “No ... it wasn’t supposed to be like this. My music career...”

Lady Sparkle frowned down at the lyrist, giving me the impression that she got no joy out of what she was doing. “I’m afraid that you did this to yourself. Likely you won’t be doing any other performances other than busking after today. And that’s after you get out of jail; destroying another pony’s property was bad enough, but then you added attempted assault and resisting arrest to your charges. Now you are in very serious trouble.” She nodded to the two gendarmes, and they stepped forward to put Quaver in shackles.

What the duchess said was true enough. Quaver’s reputation was likely going to be irreparably damaged after today. Nopony from a respectful institution was going to hire a pony arrested for destroying other ponies' instruments and equipment. Quaver might have been a very talented lyrist, but there were going to be at least another dozen talented lyrists ready to climb over her dead career for her spot. A part of me was smug over that fact. I’m not sure what that says about me.

Quaver was wide-eyed as she was dragged to her hooves from the stage. “The Baron and Baroness! T-they’ll help me!”

Lady Sparkle shook her head. “No, I think they will likely disassociate with you. Not with so much working against you. You’re too much of a liability now, though I doubt they will escape from this unscathed. It does look rather bad when a pony you patronize is guilty of sabotaging her fellow musicians. Likely nopony will take any suggestions the Baron and Baroness make seriously for quite some time. I would like to see them punished more, but even if you testified about their roles in all of this, it would be your word against theirs, and that won’t cut it in the court. A pity.”

Quaver looked at me and Vinyl with a malicious hate in her eyes. “Well ... at least I got in my parting shot against you, Octavia.” I couldn’t help but get the sense that she was trying to grasp at straws by this point. “Let’s see you perform at your best without y—”

Quaver was interrupted when she saw my cello and its broken pieces in Lady Sparkle’s magical field. There was a flash of magic, and my cello was whole again. “Here you go, Octavia. Good as new.” She levitated the cello over to me, and I took a firm hold of it.

I gave Quaver a smug smile to rub in her impotence. I felt that words would only lessen the impact.

Quaver turned her baleful glower onto Vinyl. “At least I took a chunk out of those things that make your so-called-music. Good luck replacing everything in time for the concert.”

Duchess Sparkle pulled out a bit purse from her cloak and levitated it to Vinyl. “There you go, dear. That should pay for all the damages. We really do want to see you do well at the concert, so I hope that’s enough to get everything up and running.”

Vinyl accepted the bag of bits and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Err, thanks. Ya didn’t have to.”

“Don’t think anything of it.” Lady Sparkle gave Vinyl a small nuzzle, causing my friend to grimace with embarrassment. “I just hope Quaver and preparing for the charity didn’t cause you too much stress.”

“Nah, we’re cool.” Vinyl smirked at Quaver and shook the bag of bits to make the coins within jingle. “Hey, getting the feeling it was all for nothing?”

I nodded at Vinyl’s comment. “Quaver, you’re a small fish in a very big body of water. Stop before you further embarrass yourself.”

Quaver blinked a few times, looking like she wanted to say something, but in the end she looked down at the floor, defeated. I supposed she was going to receive a great deal of time to think about where she had gone wrong in her life. It was a bit of a shame really. She really was a good lyrist.

Lady Sparkle nodded to the two gendarmes. “Do you think you two have her under control? I think I would like to spend some time with Octavia and Vinyl.”

One of the guardponies nodded. “We have her.” The two of them started guiding Quaver along. “Come on, time to get you processed.” Quaver didn’t resist; I suppose the weight of what she had done and the consequences of getting caught had caught up to her.

Duchess Sparkle smiled at the two of us. “So, I believe you two mentioned something about a place that serves good sandwiches nearby?”

I blinked at one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria saying she wanted to join the two of us to eat. “Err, I know of a place down the street, yes.”

Lady Sparkle clapped her two forehooves together. “Excellent. Let us go then. My treat.” The Duchess turned the two of us towards the exit of the concert hall, an irrepressible force of nature I dared not resist. One simply did not turn down a meal offered by a duchess in any event. “Afterwards, we can go shopping, maybe get you two something nice to perform in tomorrow.”

Vinyl went along with the Duchess and smirked. “Cool, I’m always up for free food.”

“That ... sounds nice, your grace.” I couldn’t help but smile too.

It looked like everything was going to be all right.





With our little saboteur out of the way and sitting in a prison cell, work started progressing much faster for Vinyl and me. Most of our problems came from the two of us having our own visions of what music should be instead of what could be. Vinyl was wrapped up in her own ideas on how the two of us together should mesh together without my input. Meanwhile, I had stuck to my own stringent idealistic views of what true music is and hadn’t properly allowed for what Vinyl could contribute to our upcoming songs. Thus our log jam against progress.

But I am a professional, and Vinyl is every bit as determined as I am and has a love for music as great as my own. As much as I like to bemoan my friend, she is still that, my friend. So we worked, practiced, and talked through our difference to make something greater than either one of us could create alone. We fine-tuned everything time and again to make Vinyl’s deep bass wubs work with my own cello, to make those two sounds work in concert and flow together rather than in opposition.

After so many days working with my best friend, I needed this to work. I wanted to show the Quavers, Jet Sets, and Upper Crusts of the world that we could create something beautiful. Even though the two of us were so different, I wanted to show that we were something more because of our differences, not despite them.

Also, there were orphans that needed help. Can’t forget about that.

I picked up my cello, and I mentally prepared myself for our upcoming performance. It’s strange how a couple of weeks can seem to fly by when one was busy. I straightened the little black dress that Lady Sparkle had bought me the other day, feeling slightly naked without my pink bow. Wearing the bow had been an option, but it just didn’t quite work with the dress I was wearing. It also would have clashed with the look Vinyl and I had, as she was wearing a black vest with a pair of small black shades.

“You ready?” I asked Vinyl.

Vinyl flashed me with a smirk that only a pony without any doubts in the world can give. “I was born ready.”

I couldn’t help but smile myself. “We are going to look foolish if this doesn’t work.”

“Tavi, of the super snooty, boring, uptight ponies I know, you’re the best, by far.” She nudged me playfully in the ribs. “If anypony’s got this, it’s you and me.”

I listened to the general murmur of the crowd gathering in the concert hall, feeling the anticipation building as the time for the concert approached. The nervous excitement resonated within me and I felt the determination build within me. “Yes, you and me, together.”

I extended a hoof to Vinyl, and she bumped it with her own. One of the backstage ponies then gave us the signal that it was time for our performance.

I stepped out onto the stage and looked out to the wealthy and elite ponies seated within the Canterlot Royal Concert Hall. I knew them to be wealthy, for otherwise they could not afford the exorbitant prices of the tickets for this charity concert. That was rather the point. The Canterlot elite were paying those outrageous prices to prove they could to their fellow ponies while saying that they were helping a good cause. I was sure that getting a performance out of the package didn’t hurt in the least either. I couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at the fact that the concert hall looked packed.

The time for the performance had come, and I took a long breath to calm myself and made myself concentrate. I felt the audience start to settle as they felt that the concert was about to start. I looked to Vinyl to confirm that she was ready. She gave me a nod, and I turned back to the audience. I tapped my hoof on the stage four times and then started the first song of the evening.

I started up a high, bombastic, and cheerful series of notes intended to represent the concept of light. Then I worked in a series of lower, mysterious, and darker notes to represent darkness. Vinyl’s own music from her arcane music machine worked and interwove into my own music, adding in bells, cymbals, and trumpets for light, and drums and flutes for darkness. Her wubs covered the low notes while my own my cello played the higher notes. She used her illusionary magic to make the shadows and light dance among one another, flowing around each other separately.

Then I moved into the second movement of the song. The light and the darkness met, tentatively at first, but then clashing with increasingly violence and ferocity. Vinyl’s illusions of shadows and light danced and crashed in the background. The light charged in, trumpet blaring to drive the darkness back only to overextend itself and be encircled and swallowed by the darkness. The darkness would then expand, working its way through the cracks and fissures in the light to corrupt and decay it from the inside only for its spread to be spotted by the light and then blasted away to restart the process anew.

That lead into the third movement of the song. Light and darkness, now weary from their ceaseless struggle, swirled about one another. Instead of clashing with one another, the two now worked into a gentle ebb and flow. They came to work in harmony with one another, flowing together to make a greater sound than either of them separate.

Vinyl and I played out the final notes of the song, our two musical voices combining to create something wonderful, light and darkness in harmony echoing out.

Exquisite.





“That was totally amazing, Tavi!” Vinyl was bouncing with joy after we had finished with our concert. No doubt she was running off the high of the performance. Though based on the amount of sweat running off of her and all the magic she had used during the show, I was willing to bet she was going to be crashing before too long.

For myself, I was physically and mentally exhausted from continuously playing for two hours, with only an intermission to break it up. It felt good to rest backstage and catch my breath. I drank from a bottle of water before replying. “Yes, that went rather well I think.”

The audience had seemed to cheer quite excitedly at the end of the concert, so that was at least encouraging. Though time would tell what everypony really thought of the performance we had put so much work into. Part of me was just happy to have it over with. Constantly waiting and preparing for another performance could wear down anypony’s nerves, and the relief of a successful performance could feel like taking off a pair of saddlebags loaded with rocks.

Vinyl wrapped a foreleg around my neck. “We should totally do this again someday.”

Before I could reply to that, Duke Night Light and a pair of other ponies approached us. I instantly recognized Fancy Pants, though I couldn’t immediately recall the name of the white-coated mare with one of the larger hats I had ever seen standing next to him.

The duke nodded in greeting to the two of us. “Hello, you two. Great performance.”

Fancy Pants adjusted his monocle and fixed the two of us with a pleasant smile. “My word, that was quite the exciting performance.”

“Yes, rather enchanting.” The mare fidgeted with her hat. “Never seen anything like it. You two really outdid yourselves.”

I nodded respectfully. “Thank you, you’re most kind. We put a lot of effort into making that performance the best it could be.”

“Hay yeah! That was awesome.” It felt like Vinyl was starting to come off her high as she started to put more and more of the weight on me instead of her own four legs.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Duke Night Light motioned towards Fancy Pants and the mare. “This is Fancy Pants and Rarity.” He then motioned towards me and Vinyl. “And this is Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Philharmonica.” We all greeted each other and shook hooves.

“Now then, about your performance,” Fancy Pants said. “The duke and I were talking, and we really think it would be a shame if this were to be the only time you two were to collaborate with one another.”

“Oh?” I asked, not entirely sure I liked where this was going.

“Indeed.” Fancy Pants pulled out a couple of business cards and a pencil and started writing on the card. “Personally, I think you two have come up with a smashing new sound. That’s why I want you two to start touring together.”

Vinyl’s eyes widened at that. “Whoa, really? That sounds cool.”

I wasn’t quite sure I had heard right. “Me? And Vinyl? Together? Touring?” I had enjoyed our one performance together, but I wasn’t sure about a full tour together. That could become stressful, to say the least.

“Indeed.” Fancy Pants finished writing on the business cards and levitated them so me and Vinyl could see. “Now this is a tentative amount, but you can give those cards to your agents and your ponies can talk to my ponies, and I’m sure we could hammer something out.”

I looked at the back of the business card and my eyebrows shot up when I saw the amount Fancy Pants was offering. It wasn’t exactly going to make me rich or make money problems just go away, but I wouldn’t be doing badly for myself. Especially on top of all my other performances I was getting paid for.

“That—um ... I’ll make sure to give your offer careful consideration.” I slid the business card into my instrument case, not really seeing myself turning that deal away outright.

Fancy Pants smiled and nodded. “I look forward to seeing how it turns out.”

Vinyl tightened her grip around my neck. “Ya hear that, Tavi? We’re gonna be hanging all the time now!”

I applied my hoof to my face. “Oh joy. Somepony kill me now,” I mumbled under my breath.

 But despite myself, I smiled.