When Vinyl dies due to poor health, moving on is not easy for Octavia. But when she meets a new colt in town named Dr. Whooves, she finally has the opportunity to relieve herself of her depression and start anew.
At that moment I bolted awake in my bed. I was breathing heavy and was dripping with sweat. I guess I had that dream again. That dream that never leaves me alone. That dream that drives me to the brink of madness. That dream where Vinyl is still alive. I hate that dream. It keeps me wanting her back, and stops me from progressing. Ever since she died, I have not been the same pony. I used to be cheery and happy. Now, I have become very one-dimensional. A walking puppet, it seems. Even though Vinyl died a year ago, I find it hard to let go. I loved her, and then she was suddenly taken away. Ah well. I try not to think about these things. Dreaming and wishing won't make the situation any better for me.
There she was, as beautiful as ever. She had been working hard for hours in her studio. She was tired, and her mane was a mess and hanging into her face, but she still looked beautiful to me.
"C'mon Tavi! You gotta hear this!" she said as she grabbed me by the hoof and pulled me into her recording studio. She was always making her techno music, and even though would much rather listen to my classical pieces, I always listen to her music because I love seeing her happy.
"Ok, ok Vinyl, I'm coming!" I said with a small giggle in my voice. She has not been this excited about a song in quite some time, and it was making me smile to see her so energetic.
She dragged me into the studio (it was actually just an empty guest bedroom in which Vinyl had set up a desk, a computer, amplifiers and some turntables) and sat me down into a chair. She clicked several buttons, pushed knobs and dials, and then worked some magic with the computer, opening up files and documents and programs of all sorts. (I had always admired her technological abilities. I use my computer simply to check my email) Finally, she pulled up a media player program and said,
"Ok, now listen to this." and then she clicked play. I wish I could say I was impressed by what played for me. I really wish I could. But all I heard was:
It all sounded like noise to me, but when I glanced over at Vinyl, she was bobbing her head to the music and really getting into it. It may just sound like noise to me, but to her, this was sounding like a masterpiece; a work of art. I decided it was best to play along, and let her live her moment. So, there I sat through five minutes of wubs, bobbing my head and dancing just like Vinyl was.
When the song ended, Vinyl looked at me and said,
"Well? What did you think?" I could tell she was very proud of herself, and I loved seeing her happy, so I played along.
"It was wonderful Vinyl. Very... different. What did you decide to call this one?"
Well..." she said, blushing. I-I decided to name it..." she said with a stutter, and a blush coming across her face.
"What did you call it?" I said with a friendly smile.
"I decided to call it... 'Octavia'." Now it was my turn to blush. Even though I may not be able to appreciate her music in the way that she does, I admired that fact that she devoted one of her songs to me. I was absolutely flattered.
"Thank you, Vinyl." I stated with a smile.
"Your welcome Tavi." she said. And with that, I pulled her into an embrace. "I love you Tavi." she said.
"I love you too Vinyl." I said. Then, we closed our eyes, and leaned in to kiss each other. Our lips inched closer and closer, until...
At that moment I bolted awake in my bed. I was breathing heavy and was dripping with sweat. I guess I had that dream again. That dream that never leaves me alone. That dream that drives me to the brink of madness. That dream where Vinyl is still alive. I hate that dream. It keeps me wanting her back, and stops me from progressing. Ever since she died, I have not been the same pony. I used to be cheery and happy. Now, I have become very one-dimensional. A walking puppet, it seems. Even though Vinyl died a year ago, I find it hard to let go. I loved her, and then she was suddenly taken away. Ah well. I try not to think about these things. Dreaming and wishing won't make the situation any better for me.
I threw my face into my hooves and moaned. I took a look at my alarm clock that was beeping loudly. It read 7:00. Time for me to get up. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and hit the alarm clock off. I got out of bed, straightened my nightgown, and walked over to the window to throw open the blinds. When the sun hit my face I winced a bit, then once my eyes adjusted to the light, I observed the day. It was a very bright, sunny and cheery day. Dawn always was one of my favorite times. Everything was just starting to be set in motion for the day ahead of us. Some birds were flying around, and a few ponies wandered the streets setting up their stands and vendor stalls to get ready for the day's business. This was quite contrary to what Vinyl liked. She enjoyed the nightlife. She would stay up all night and have fun. She would wake up at sometimes 1 in the afternoon, some behavior I personally frowned upon, but decided to let her get her rest.
I took a deep sigh, and wandered away from the window. I stepped into my bathroom and looked at myself. My mane was an absolute mess, and my eyes looked like I hadn't slept in days. That's sure what it felt like, anyways. Although I get into bed at 10:30 at the latest, I can never seem to fall asleep until approximately three or four in the morning. I don't know for sure what time it is, I get too afraid to look at the clock, fearing what message it may toll. I don't try to stay awake to such an hour; I just toss and turn, while memories of days past flood my train of thought. Memories of Vinyl.
I sighed, and picked up my brush and ran it through my mane. In a few moments, I was looking spick and span, and I wandered to my closet. I removed my night gown, and reached for my signature collar and bow tie. I returned to the bathroom mirror to put them on. It seemed funny to me, I have worn this bow tie almost every day for who knows how long, yet I can never seem to tie it without needing to look in a mirror. After finishing with my tie, I proceeded to put some tooth paste of a brush and went to clean my teeth. But before I was able to do so, I noticed the color of my tooth paste. Bright, neon blue. Just like Vinyl's mane was. I felt my lip start to quiver and my eyes start to water. I closed my eyes, and I brushed my teeth, trying to shut out these foolish thoughts. Wanting and wishing has never helped me in the past, what would it do for me now?
After finishing in the bathroom, I went downstairs to get myself a bite to eat. I popped two slices of bread into the toaster, and began to brew a fresh pot of coffee. I sifted through my overhead cabinets and found my favorite kind: Canterlot Fields Light Morning Roast. With a touch of almond. I measured the appropriate amount, and poured it into the coffee maker with a pot of water. At that moment my toast finished cooking. I grabbed a plate, but the bread on it, and lightly buttered them. While I eat my meals, since I am alone, I enjoy putting on some light back ground music. I skimmed through my record collection (all classical of course) to find something I was in the mood for. I came across a piece I have not heard in awhile, took the record out of the sleeve and placed it on the player.
I sat down with my coffee and toast and let the music sooth me. I listened to the strings play their harmonies, and listed to the chords progress, as I gently sipped my coffee. The music was just so pure, so happy. This truly was one of the only places I can escape the trauma that I have been suffering through for so long. A small smile came to my face as I closed my eyes and listened.
I was suddenly jolted out of my trance by a loud bang at my door. Apparently I had fallen asleep. I looked franticly around trying to find the time. 9:00.
"Shoot!" I thought to myself. "Sweetie Belle has her piano lesson now!" Then there came another knock at my door. "I'm coming!" I shouted, shoving a piece of toast in my mouth and running toward the door. I opened it, and just as I thought, Sweetie Belle was standing at the door, with her sister Rarity escorting her.
"Good morning dear." Rarity said to me.
"Good morning!" Sweetie Belle chipped in cheerfully. I forced a smile onto my face and replied,
"Good morning ladies. How are we today?"
"Great!" Sweetie Belle replied. "I'm ready to start my lesson!"
"That's magnificent, Sweetie Bell." I said sweetly.
"Thank you very much for the lesson today. I will see you in half an hour to pick her up." Rarity said.
"Of course." I said. "See you in half an hour." and with that I closed the door.
Sweetie Bell and I walked slowly into my living room where my piano sat. We sat down at the piano, and Sweetie Belle took out her books.
"So," I said, "What was last week's assignment?"
"My major scales, miss Octavia!" she said cheerfully. She is such a sweet heart, she is.
"Alright then," I replied, "show me what you got!" She nodded, and then turned to face the piano. She took a deep breath, and placed her hooves on the keys. The sound she produced could be described as a train wreck, to say the least. I recall her playing about three correct notes throughout the scales. But, when she was finished with the scale, I stopped cringing, put on a false smile, and said,
"That sounded, fairly good!" She looked at me and smiled.
"Thank you miss Tavi!" That name. That name. That name that had become the bane of my existence. That name that constantly reminds me of things I keep trying to forget. Nopony had called me Tavi in a year, and I thank them kindly for it. I could feel some tears welling up in my eyes. I forced them back and said,
"Your welcome Sweetie Belle, but please call me Miss Octavia."
"Why?" She said with innocence "Isn't that what miss Vinyl used to call you?" I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I bowed my head slightly and said,
"Yes. Yes it is." . . .
Half an hour later I walked Sweetie Bell to the door and handed her back over into Rarity's care.
"How was she?" Rarity asked me.
"She was wonderful." I replied. "Perhaps you may wish to observe her practice habits this week. She seemed to be struggling with her scales a bit."
"Of course. I will see that she practices correctly from now on." She said. "Sweetie Belle, why don't you go wait outside for me. I will be out in moment. I'm just going to have a word with miss Octavia."
"Ok sis!" Sweetie Bell said, as she then trotted out the door. Rarity then closed the Door and acquired a more serious tone.
"Octavia, what is bothering you?" This most certainly surprised me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to dodge the question.
"Darling, I can see very clearly you have been stressing about something. I can see it in your eyes. They don't have the same shine they used to. If you don't mind me asking, is this in concern to Vinyl?" I sighed for a moment as I felt some tears welling up in my eyes.
"During the lesson today, Sweetie Belle called me miss Tavi. I know it is something very small and menial, but nopony had called me that since Vinyl had died."
"I am so sorry Octavia. I will be sure to talk to her about it on our way home."
"No, Don't. She didn't know. She didn't do anything wrong."
"If you insist, Octavia." Rarity was silent for a moment, and then said, "What if next week we went to the spa? My treat!" I was surprised by her offer, and said
"Oh no, I couldn't accept... Actually,” I said with a touch of guilt, “I think a spa day sounds nice. Thank you."
"Of course, darling." She said with a smile. And with that, she bid me goodbye, and walked out of the house.
What the doctors were telling me only drove the point home. Vinyl Scratch, otherwise known as her stage persona, DJ Pon3, had died of an incurable disease. The doctors rumored cancer, but that wasn't it. It came too quickly in order to be cancer. Regardless, she was dead. The doctors tried to tell me to calm down, don't cry, and that everything would be ok, but I didn't believe them. I betrayed every word of advice they gave to me, and simply sobbed. Right there in the middle of the hospital lobby, I cried. I cried for hours, maybe longer. I held my head in my hooves, and cried. I just kept crying.
I bolted awake from my dream and fell of the couch, hitting my head in the process. I laid on the ground clutching my head and moaning. I walked to the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack and placed it on my head. That really hurt.
Once the pain subdued a bit, I sighed and realized how disappointed I was in myself for falling asleep mid day. I hate wasting my day. I walked very slowly into my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like an absolute wreck. I turned on the cold water and splashed some on my face. I need something to distract me. I need to get up and DO something. I figured I hadn't been out of the house in awhile, other than to buy groceries. "I should take a nice, long walk." I thought to myself.
The idea actually excited me. The opportunity to go out and actually do something was very appealing. I walked up to my bathroom, pulled out a brush and brushed my mane. I was excited. I actually was. Something as simple as going outside my home made me excited. It was sad, really, but I really didn't care. I needed something to lift me up out of this hole I've been in, and if taking a walk does it, that is fine by me.
Once I finished prepping myself to leave, I walked up to my door, and opened it. The air hit my face like a brick wall: slamming me with a mass that was fresh, live, and free. I teetered out of my doorway, as if setting hoof on a distant land for the first time. At this point, my front porch IS a distant land. I slowly trotted through the streets, watching the world unfolding in front of me. Fillies were playing, stalls were running, pegasi were zipping through the air. It was all so strange, so alien, so wonderful. I looked around to see everypony living. They were able to live life. Their worlds are still tuning, their lives still running. It was so refreshing, a small smile came to my face. That smile then turned larger, until I had a foolish grin plastered all over my face. I let out a small chuckle in spite of myself, and kept walking. Then, while in my trance of bliss, I foolishly ran head into somepony head on. We both fell backwards, and I, myself let out a moan of pain. That really hurt...
As I got up, I rubbed my head, and observed the absolute mess I made. Papers had scattered all over the ground. I started to pick them up one by one to assist the colt I just body-checked. I gathered some of the papers, and then looked up to hand them back to him.
To call this colt handsome was an absolute understatement. He was downright dashing. He had a light brown coat, accompanied by a darker brown mane and tail. His cutie mark was that of an hourglass, and he was wearing a necktie.
“I am so sorry!” I said apologetically. Then, in a thick British accent, he replied:
“Its alright. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”
I continued to assist him in picking up his papers, which I gave to him, and were then placed in his saddlebag. Once all of his papers were in order, I spoke, and said,
“My name is Octavia, sir. May I ask for yours?” He then replied,
“I’m the Doctor.”
“The Doctor? Doctor who?
“Just the Doctor!” he replied with a smile. I chuckled at his remark.
“If I may ask, ‘Doctor,’ where are you off to in such a rush?” I ask. He then replied,
“I was on my way to Ponyville hospital to drop off some legal papers for some of the staff. Apparently, there have been reports of one of the staff firmly believing that she is a dog. I have been asked to deliver a message to the main medical advisor of the hospital recommending her admittance to the local mental institution. Quite sad, really.”
“My goodness! That is… awful?” I reply, not quite sure how to respond. “It is.” He says plainly. “Well Doctor,” I say, “I should let you on your way. It obviously sounds like you have some very important business to attend to.” “Not necessarily.” He says. “I’m in no rush to go anywhere. These just need to be delivered by the end of the day; I have some time to kill. Would you like to…” he says with a small stutter. “Would I like to what?” I say with a small sarcastic grin. “W-Would you like to go to Sugar Cube Corner for a cup of coffee?” I pondered his request for a moment, and them said, “I’d love a quick cup of coffee.” “OK then! Allons-y!” he said triumphantly. What a peculiar colt.
There was an eerie silence as we walked side-by-side. He walked with a kind of stature; a kind of power that seemed to make all the other ponies look at him and smile. He himself was wearing a small grin on his face. As I watched him, I began to wonder: why me? What was so mystical or enticing about me that he would want to spend more time with me? Me, who hadn’t been out of the house in weeks, and falls asleep while eating toast. But he seemed so sure and confident. Perhaps I was just over thinking this. It’s just coffee, right? I’ve had coffee casually with plenty of ponies! Of course, I haven’t since… “Here we are!” He interrupted. “Oh!” I replied, startled, “So we are!” He trotted ahead of me, and pulled out my chair for me. What a gent. I took my seat, and watched him take his seat across from me. We waited for a moment, taking a quick glance at our menus. After skimming the restaurant’s selections, Mrs. Cake approached our table, with a smile. “Hello, everypony! What’ll it be today?” she said cheerfully. She turned to me first, so I figured I should give my order first. “I will have a cup of coffee with a donut, please.” I said plainly “Of course, dear!” Mrs. Cake replied. “And for you, Doctor?” “Just a cup of tea, please.” Funny. I didn’t even see that on the menu. “Do you come here often?” I asked the Doctor. “They know your name.” “On occasion.” He replied. “This has become my favorite café in Ponyville since I came here. Very small, very quaint, and fantastic tea!” he said, right as Mrs. Cake came and delivered our orders: my coffee and donut, and his tea. “Thank you, Mrs. Cake!” he says, as he pays her a few bits. I slowly sipped my coffee and nibbled on the donut, and watched him sip his tea. “mmm,” I said, “this is quite good!” “Indeed it is!” he responded with a kind of pep in his voice. Again, we sat in silence for some time. How could it be that I had completely forgotten how to properly interact with other ponies? I felt that I needed to start something; spark conversation somehow. It’s the least I could do to repay him for the coffee and donut. “So, Doctor” I spat out, “why did you decide to come to ponyville?” It’s not much, but it’s something. “To be truthful, I just sort of wound up here. I had lived all over: Fillydalphia, Manehatten, Las Pegasus, and even some places in Germaney. I was getting bored with the big city life; always getting shunted from place to place, so many ponies, so little time. So, I hopped on the train and rode until I would up here. I know it sure sounds like a cliché ran-away-from-home story, but it’s all true!” He then paused to sip his tea again. “When I exited the train, I was immediately charmed by the town’s homey feel, it’s sense of community and togetherness, that I decided to settle down here. I consulted mayor mare about job opportunities, and she offered me a position as a runner, delivering vitally important notices and memos that the post can’t get to in time.” Then, as if on clockwork he took another sip of his tea. After he finished his gulp, he looked at me and said, “But enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Mrs. Octavia! What is your position in this wonderful little town?” “Well,” I started, “I play cello in the Canterlot Symphony. I have for a number of years. When it is not concert season, I live a slow life, giving private music lessons for the most part.” “Ah, music!” he said grandly. “Such a wonderful art form!” “Indeed it is.” I said back, plainly, not quite sure how else to respond. “Do you play anything?” “I used to play a bit of trumpet, but that was many-a years ago. I’ve long since put that part of me aside.” “It is rather unfortunate that you stopped. Music in colt-hood is something that most ponies wish they had. Half of my private lesson students are adults hoping to learn a bit of music that they had never learned when they were fillies. I try my best to help them, but many of them get frustrated and quit within the first few lessons. It is a very sad sight to see.” “Is that right? I would have never guessed. I guess I do miss music, but there is simply not enough hours in the day for it. I’m busy rushing around town delivering fines and court summons.” The town hall bell town then chimed, and the clock tolled 2 o’clock. “Speaking of which,” Dr. Whooves said, “I need to get down to the hospital to deliver these papers before it’s too late.” He then gulped down the rest of his tea and rose from his seat. I did the same, and met him alongside the table. “Thank you for accompanying me to lunch, Octavia. I had a wonderful time.” “I did as well, Doctor.” I said with a small smile. “Octavia, I would love to be your company again sometime in the near future.” He stated while picking up his papers. “Where might I find you, were we to spend more time together?” “I am located in-between Town Square and the market place. It is a fairly distinctive building; it’s hard to miss.” I said back to him. He scribbled something (presumably the house details) on a note pad, and then said, “Excellent! I will stop bye sometime soon and pay you a visit. Until then, Auf Wiedersehen, Ms. Octavia!” I gave a small giggle and said back to him, “Au revior, Doctor Whooves!” and we then went our separate ways. . . . As I walked back to my home, I began to think about what had just happened. Interaction with ponies was always such an infrequent event that analyzing the situation was appropriate. I hadn’t been social for so long, the conversation felt forced and crude, but at the same time, had a bit of a flow to it. He was a likeable colt; a gentleman at that. He seemed interested in what I had to say, and I was, in turn, interested in what he had to say. What he had to say was interesting, and he made an effort to keep the conversation alive. I enjoyed this afternoon. One may even say that I was, if not for a moment, happy. It had been so long since I had felt this way; I had almost forgotten what happiness felt like. It was blissful. It was exciting. It was addicting. As I walked slowly back to my house, I silently cursed the fact that our small conversation couldn’t last longer. He was the first colt in months that I had felt this way toward. He actually made me feel happy.
