Vinyl Scratch, You're Going To A Concert

"C'mon, Prize, this is such a stupid idea."

You were leaning back on your mixing equipment, which was set up in the main room of your home. Mostly because there was nowhere else to put it in your small house (even though you could afford larger, you found no need to have a big house when you'd only use it to mix new tracks and sleep), and because it was easiest to just have it set up right in the living room. Blowing a wild strand of blue and cyan hair out of your face, you look across the few feet of space at the white stallion currently sitting on your couch; your longtime friend, just-recently-turned-your-manager Painted Prize. He rolls his orange eyes at you, as if knowing you'd protest.

"Vinyl, hear me out on this. I'm not trying to talk crap on your music or anything, because it's still top notch, but since I'm your manager here, I have to bring this kinda stuff up. With your latest album, more and more reviews have said you're starting to sound the same, that you're losing your originality-"

"And you know that's nonsense." You can't help but huff a little bit. Since when did you or he care about reviews?

"Yes, Vinyl, I know it's nonsense, but consumers depend on reviews a lot more nowadays than they did when you first started out. If enough of them say the same thing, especially something like that, sales could majorly take a hit." He fixes the thick green cloth on his neck. You were sure had some kind of actual name for it, but it just looked like a combination of a bandanna and a scarf to you, so that's what you always called it. He always wore it, no matter the season, despite how hot it must make him in summer. It must have some kind of sentimental value to it.

"So you want me to go to some lame-ass concert that'll only have classical music? How will that help me in any way?"

"The best artists are ones that can incorporate many forms of art into their work, or at least mix different genres seamlessly. Plus, you could use more appreciation for music higher-ups in Canterlot listen to. It's not all garbage."

You can't help but let a small smirk play at your lips. "What's this, is the once great Painted Prize turning into a hoity-toity music snob on me? What's next, are you going to call my songs 'mindless noise?'" This earns you a scoff in return.

"Oh please, that'll never happen. I just like a lot more different types of music than you seem to. And who knows, you might like the music at this concert, anyway. It's gonna be the best the genre has to offer. Why, even the top cellist in Equestria will be there-"

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the details, I'll go, whatever." Your hooves were held up towards him, showing a combination of "I surrender" and "please stop talking." He grinned over at you before reaching into the cloth whatever on his neck, pulling out an envelope. He whips it towards you like a frisbee of papercuts waiting to happen, and you catch it in your hoof.

"Your ticket is in there. I snagged us front row seats, not easy to get."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to thank you later." You glance behind you, placing it behind you on one of your turntables before turning back to him. "Anything else you want to practically force me to do?"

"Today? No, I think that's it, actually." He slowly stands up off the couch, grinning over at you as he makes his way to the front door. "Just try to enjoy yourself tomorrow, will ya? It won't be all that bad, I promise."

"Yeah, we'll just see about that when we're actually there." You make your way over to him, standing next to him to see him out. You hold a hoof up towards him, which he rewards with bumping his own against it. "If it's way lame, I'll bail in the middle of it."

"You better not." His tone is dead serious, but the smile on his face says otherwise, as if he's half expecting it to happen. "It starts bright and early, at least for you, at 9 am. I suggest going to sleep sometime before 3 am, because I'll be here at 8 to get you, whether you slept enough or not."

You can't help but groan, and he gives you a look before he turns and opens the door, the cool night air sending a chill down your spine. He glances back at you as he trots out, smirking slightly. "See ya tomorrow, Vinyl. Bright and early." All you do is let out a little whine before you close the door behind him.

----------

Never one to listen to your friend's advice, you stayed up far past 3, mixing a new song that came to mind. Once inspiration strikes you, you've found it's best just to get it out as quick as possible. Unfortunately, this outburst of creativity goes on for hours, until you hear a knock at the door. Pausing the track you were playing back, you shuffle to the front door, opening it and being met with Painted Prize, who looked surprised you actually answered the knock.

"Oh, Vinyl, you're up pretty early. I thought you'd be passed out still."

"I haven't passed out in the first place. Pulled an all nighter, been mixing tracks..." You yawn and rub at an eye with a hoof, not even bothering to met his gaze, which was one of minor frustration and disappointment. You've discarded your glasses since he last saw you, and while most ponies would be near captivated by your dark red eyes, he saw them enough times to not be caught the same way most others would be.

"Dammit, Vinyl, I told you to get some sleep-"

"Hey man," you cut him off, "I'm right as rain, or whatever. We'll get some caffeinated juices pumpin' in me and I'll be great." You offer him a grin, but with the bags under your eyes, it doesn't hold the usual effect. He just sighs.

"Alright, fine. We'd better hurry and get that drink, then, we'll be cutting that concert close as is."

"Well then let's stop flappin' our gums." You grab your saddlebags from the rack near the door that they're hanging from before you trot back to your turntable, picking the ticket envelope up with your magic before slipping it into the open storage on your back. You trot back over to Painted Prize, your glasses back over your eyes and casting a purple hue on everything. "Let's go."

You both walk out of your house and step out into Canterlot. The brisk morning air nips at your nose and ears, and you close and lock the door behind you before you both continue. Most of the trip to the closest coffee shop so you can get your drink (and energy back) is covered in silence, both of you focusing on just getting there as quick as possible. And within a few minutes of walking, you get there, stepping inside and being assaulted with the delicious smell of coffees and baked breakfast goods.

Painted Prize looks down at you, holding a few bits in his hoof. "I'll wait outside, get me a cinnamon bun or something."

You nod before taking the bits from him, stepping up to the counter and ordering the thing with the most caffeine in it and a pair of cinnamon buns before handing over the right amount of bits. You barely have to wait that long before your order is placed in front of you, and with a quick "thanks" to the pony behind the counter, you walked out, holding the food and drink up with your magic. You thrust the bag holding the cinnamon buns towards Painted Prize, walking past him.

"Come on, we got a concert to get to."

Never Heard Anything Like It

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By the time you two arrive at the concert hall, you're so pumped up from your drink that you feel ready to explode. Painted Prize looks over at you as he bites into his cinnamon bun, probably mentally cursing at himself for letting you get your drink. "You better be able to stay still during this, or at least not cause a scene or something."

"Hey dude, come on, gimme some credit, would ya?" You glance at him, trying to shoot him a look that says you're offended, but you're not sure if you succeed or not. You can feel the caffeine flowing through you. You feel like you could have enough energy to run a marathon twice over, or fight a bear, or even fight a horde of bears. Something like that.

"I'd give you credit if you had a good track record up until this point." Ignoring the actual look of offense that you send his way, he opens the door for you, letting you inside before he follows and lets the door shut behind him. He rifles through his saddlebags with his magic, pulling out his ticket. "You got yours, right?"

"Yeah, of course." You roll your eyes as you turn back to your own saddlebags, digging through them and pulling out the envelope with the ticket inside. "What do you take me for?"

"A sleep-deprived DJ who even on a good day wouldn't remember her head if it wasn't attached," he deadpans, facing you with a small smile on his face. You slug him in the foreleg with your hoof, and his smile grows, even as he rubs where you hit him.

You can't help but smile back. "Don't be a dick."

He takes your ticket from you, handing it and his to the ticket pony. "Come on, you know I'm right. You'd be lost without me."

You do, and you would be. That's why you needed a manager in the first place. After nearly forgetting one too many gigs and showing up late for the umpteenth time, you decided you needed someone to help you out in the remembering your schedule department. It was only natural to get your best friend to do it for you, since he practically knew about all of your gigs anyway, and came to a lot of them. It just worked out.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm utterly hopeless. Can we just find our seats or whatever?"

He chuckles, and leads the way, opening the doors into the massive concert hall. You can't help but be caught up in just how many ponies there are, and just how big the room is. The walls look like they're almost all marble (or something like it), and it has some grand painting on the ceiling, by somepony who you'd probably never be able to guess the name of in a hundred years.

You let out a small whistle, which is barely audible over the chatter. "Damn, this place is nice."

Painted looks back at you, smirking. "Sounds like you're the one getting hoity-toity now."

You roll your eyes. "I just said the place looked nice, jeez, I'm not screaming for a cello solo or something."

You both arrive to the very front of all the seats, quickly scanning the row before you both sit down. He digs through his saddlebags, looking for something the ticket pony handed him. "I wonder who's playing first. Octavia will probably play last-"

"Who?" You take another sip of your drink, which is just about finished since you chugged most of it right after you got it. Your friend looks over at you.

"She's one of the best cellists in Equestria, if not the best. She's the main reason these tickets were so hard to get, just because she's gonna be playing here today. She's a big deal."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll totally blow me away." You hear your friend chuckle at you, even over the noise of hundreds of ponies talking amongst themselves in the room. You glance over at him. "Is she really that good?"

"Lemme put it to you this way, Vinyl. What she is for classical music, is similar to what you are for electronic music. You're both the best of the best, ponies from all over want to hear the things you two put out." He bites into the second cinnamon bun, munching on it as the lights dim. "Oh, here we go, it's starting." He looks excited, far more than you do, at least. You can't help but sigh a little as you slump in your seat. This would be a long concert.

----------

And then started what you thought would be the most boring few hours of your life, and to your surprise, you weren't really correct with assuming that. Sure, compared to your usual scene, this was nothing you could really jam out to, but it got you pumped up almost as much as the music you made. You noticed that a lot of the songs were similar to ones you listened to: they started calm, as if to lure somepony in before crashing down and getting loud. You found yourself nodding along to the beat a few times, and before you knew it, the show was almost over. Only one more performance was left, and the curtain closed as they set up behind it, the lights going bright again so everyone could see for a minute or two.

You turned towards Painted Prize. "What's the last thing?"

"Well, since she hasn't performed by herself yet, I'm positive it'll be Octavia." He stretched himself out, cracking his neck before he settled back into his seat. "I bet you'll like her, if you nodding with the beat before was any indication."

You turn and stare at him, frowning slightly. "Hey, don't ever tell anyone about that. I still have an image to uphold, you know, can't let my fans think I've gone soft of 'em."

He moved his hoof across his muzzle, smirking. "My lips are sealed." At this moment, the lights go dim again, and his gaze moves from you to the curtain. "Oh, here it comes!"

You smile at his excitement before you turn to face the stage as well, lifting your glasses up so you can see properly. The curtain parts, revealing a lone mare sitting up there, a cello next to her. The thing that sticks out the most about her at first is the pink bow-tie and white collar she's wearing. Probably because it's more bright than her dark gray mane and tail, and her light gray coat.

The second most noticeable thing about her you see when she opens her eyes. Those amethyst orbs seem to sparkle and shine in the light that's shining down on her, and after looking over the crowd, her gaze seems to sit right on you. You two lock eyes as the whole room instantly goes quiet, and you suddenly feel a bit warm, your heart thudding against your chest.

She gives a small smile down at you, a small smile that's enough to send your heart racing and your cheeks near flushing. She closes her eyes and brings her bow up to the strings of her cello. After a moment's pause, she starts to play, the bow dancing over the strings of her instrument, creating one of the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard. You can't help but become entirely enraptured by the scene before you, your lips curling into a smile that you barely noticed as you watched this mare entirely in her element.

The song goes on for an amount of time that you're unsure of, because every time she opens her eyes, she looks down at you, and time seems to stop when her gaze meets yours. Far too soon for your liking, though, the song is over, and she bows to the crowd and trots off the stage, to thunderous applause. You're still too stunned to even get up and move, staring at the spot she was sitting not even moments ago. You quickly turn to Painted Prize when the clapping dies down.

"I need to find her."

"What?" He looks at you incredulously. "Why?"

"I just need to find her. Where is she?"

He just blinks down at you before a hoof moves to his chin. "Well, she's probably backstage right now, but she usually leaves pretty quick after her performances and stuff. But again, why-"

"Thanks." You almost leap out of your seat, rushing along the front of the stage before slipping around the side of the curtain. Not the most stealthy of ways to get back there, but it was the fastest. From what your friend said, you didn't have much time anyway.

Now all you had to do was find her.

It's A Pleasure To Meet You

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You quickly trot along backstage, not having any real idea of where your destination is, but not stopping your hoofsteps. You just keep peeking into most of the rooms you come across, not caring if you stumble in on anything you're not supposed to see, which you do several times.

However, your multiple intrusions and all the time you've spent looking for her leave you no closer to finding the mare. It's quickly leaving you a bit steamed, and you're losing hope in finding her at all. You let out an irritated growl, almost stomping your hooves with each step.

How damn hard is it to find this cellist? You'd think I'd have found her already-

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted as you bump into somepony, and you fall back onto your flank, your eyes closed and a hoof rubbing your head. "Ow...hey man, sorry about that."

"Think nothing of it." You blink your eyes open at the voice, looking down at the pony a mere foot or two away from you, who's also on her flank and rubbing her head. However, her shining purple eyes are open, and looking back at yours. That small smile is back on her face. You can feel your heart stop, and you clear you throat, trying to say something that isn't stupid.

"...Octavia?" It wasn't the dumbest thing you've ever said, but you still felt like a moron.

"That would be me, yes." She got back onto her hooves, holding her foreleg out to you. You grip it with your own hoof wow her fur is really soft and you're helped back up. "And who would you be?"

Suddenly, it's like you forgot your own name. You stumble over your words like a filly talking to her schoolyard crush. "Uh...Vinyl. I...I'm, um...Vinyl Scratch."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Vinyl Scratch." Her smile seems to warm after she says your name, and it only makes your heart pound faster. "But if you don't mind me saying, you probably shouldn't be back here. I don't recall you being a part of the performance at all...in fact." Her smile turns into a small smirk. "I'm fairly certain I saw you in the front row today."

"Uh...well, yeah, I was...but I had to. Uh. Come find you?" All of your social graces seemed to be leaving you right now, and you were honestly surprised she was still talking to you at this point. You mentally cursed up a storm until a small giggle interrupted your thoughts.

It was Octavia who giggled, and you realized that you wanted to listen to that sound for the rest of your life. "I take it you liked the concert, then?"

Those sparkling eyes were making it really hard to think straight, and you tried to stammer out another answer. "Yeah. I...I really loved it. I...You were amazing up there." It took all of your self-control not to gush out all your feelings right there. "I don't even usually listen to music like this, but you're amazing on stage, it's like you...like you own the place. You're amazing."

You swear you see a faint blush on Octavia's cheeks as she waves a hoof at you and laughs. "Oh, Vinyl, you flatter me." She looks at you, a questioning look on her face. "You know, I figured this kind of music wasn't what you normally listen to, what with a name like 'Vinyl Scratch,' anyway. What do you usually listen to?"

At this point, you want to lie to her and say something that sounds a bit more refined and impressive than what you really listen to and create, but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. So you say the truth. "Well, I, uh...I mix a bit, here and there. Mostly club scene stuff. Electronic and heavy bass and all that, you know."

To your surprise, she doesn't immediately scoff at your taste in music. "Ooh, that sounds rather exciting! You'll have to let me hear some of your songs some day."

You blink, and then you suddenly blurt out something that you've said dozens of times in situations like this. "Yeah, we could go to my place and listen to some tracks."

Your heart stops dead in your chest, and you can feel the sweat on your brow. Did you seriously just invite her back to your place after just meeting her? Of all the stupid things to-

"Alright."

You pause, your train of thought derailing. "Huh?"

"I said alright. After this concert, a night just relaxing with somepony sounds rather refreshing." She smiles at you again, and you catch yourself smiling back. "We could exchange numbers and such, and meet up at your house later on."

"I...Yeah, okay!" You can't help but let the excitement flood out, and you hover your cell phone out of your saddlebag and into her outstretched hoof. She gives hers to you, and you both enter your numbers into each other's phones before giving them back. "Talk to you later, then?"

"Indeed you will." She walks on past you before pausing, turning to look back at you. "I'll see you tonight, Vinyl Scratch." And with that, she walks away, leaving you grinning down at your phone like a crush-ridden school filly.

----------

"You what?!"

Painted Prize was staring at you from the doorway. You, meanwhile, were sitting on the couch in your living room, almost gushing with the previously hidden excitement of an hour or two earlier, which was now flooding out of you.

"I told you, we talked backstage and I got her number and she has mine and she's coming here later!" You throw your forelegs up into the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Your friend is still baffled, however. "Yeah, I got that part, but...I'm still stuck on how. And why, actually. How'd you pull it off, and why'd you bother?"

"Well, to be entirely honest, I have no idea. I was an awkward piece of shit the whole time we talked." You shrug. "Maybe she found it cute or something?" You hesitate at the next part, though. "And through her whole song...man, this is gonna sound so stupid, but it felt like she was playing for me up there. She kept looking down at me, and I kept lookin' right back at her, and her eyes...I just felt something, Painted. That's why I had to find her."

Painted Prize leans against the doorway, a small smile playing at his lips. "The first time I take you to a classical music concert, you go and fall in love for the most popular cellist in Equestria, and even get her to come to your house that same night. I gotta say, out of all the things I thought would happen, this wasn't one of them."

"Hey dude, I didn't think anything like this would happen, either." You lean back against the couch, just about to relax a little when your cell phone buzzes on the coffee table. You jump from the sudden sound, leaning forward to look at who's calling. Your stomach does a little flip. "It's her!"

Your friend is ever supportive. "Well, answer it, you idiot."

You take a deep breath before hitting the green button with a hoof, raising it up to your ear. "Hey Octavia. What's up?"

"Hello, Vinyl. I was calling to ask when you would be ready to meet up tonight, since I'm open for the next few hours."

"Oh uh..." You glance over at the clock hanging on the wall across from you. It says it's not even 2 pm yet. "Um. How about 7? There's this little coffee shop a bit away from my house, we can stop there first, get a drink or somethin' if you want." You still can't believe this is actually happening.

"7 it is, then. What is the name of the coffee shop?"

"Oh, it's Donut Joe's. It's downtown, you can find it no problem."

"Alright. I will be there." There's a pause from both of you, and it seems to drag on way too long before she speaks. "I look forward to seeing you later, Vinyl." Before you can wipe the giant grin off your face, she hangs up, and you're left holding the phone up to your ear like a dumbass.

Painted Prize looks over at you. "So? What's goin' on?"

You let your foreleg drop down next to you, turning to him. "I got a date with Octavia."

The Coffee Shop

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After you pushed Painted Prize out of your house with barely a goodbye, you set to work furiously cleaning your house. You had never noticed before, but it was a bit of a pigsty, even though you weren't in it much during your usual weekdays, or your usual week at all. But this was quickly turning out to be a rather unusual week, and you were in a mad rush to get the place spick and span. After picking up and trash you found lying around (mostly drink cans and empty paper bowls or plates), you even dusted the place, and then you vacuumed on top of it.

When you were satisfied a few hours later, the house was almost impeccable, looking almost brand new. You, on the other hand, smelled of dirt and sweat. Letting out a "blegh" from your own stench, you quickly trot into your bathroom, turning the shower on with your magic. You let the water warm up while you walk to your hallway closet, getting a towel before you peek back out into the living room to check the clock.

Alright, it's 6 right now. I have time, but I can't dick around too much or anything.

You go back into the bathroom, testing the water with a hoof. It's almost perfect, so you set the towel down on the floor before you step in, not bothering to pull the curtain over or anything. One perk of living alone was that you knew no one would ever intrude on your privacy, since the whole house was a private space.

You tilt your head down, letting the water flow over your wild mane until it was matted down over your eyes. You get to work washing the hair, squirting shampoo into a hoof before you massage it into your head, getting it nice and soapy and clean. After a few minutes of making sure you did a good job, you rinse it out and watch the suds slowly flow down the drain. You levitate a bar of soap with your horn and rub it along your fur, the bubbles cleaning the grime from your coat. You rinse all of that off as well before you turn the water off and step out, shaking yourself mostly dry.

Floating a towel up to your head, your hooves move it with furious motions until your mane is just as wild and crazy as usual. You hesitate for a second as you look at yourself in the mirror, pondering if you should make yourself look nicer, but you shrug it off.

"This isn't really a date, or anything." You say outloud, as if giving yourself some kind of pep talk, or just trying to convince yourself that it isn't. "Just be casual, be yourself, don't say something stupid..."

The last thing was easier said than done, and you sigh as you hang the wet towel up on a rack. You move back out into the living room, checking the time. The clock reads that it's just past 6:30.

I should probably get there a little early. You nod once, as if confirming your own plan. Levitating your saddlebags onto yourself with your magic, you slip your shades over your eyes and make your way to the front door, opening it with a hoof. You glance back inside, confirming again that your house is presentable before you close the door behind you. You lock the entry into your home before you begin your walk to the coffee shop.

----------

The setting sun casts brilliant orange hues against the city around you as you walk. There's a slight breeze tonight, and each time it touches your fur, it send chills rippling down your body. You realize should've brought a scarf along or something, but all you can do now is brace yourself as best you can.

It doesn't take you too long to get to Donut Joe's from your house. When you arrive, you check the time, noticing you probably have a good 10 minutes or so before she turns up. Your heart suddenly beats faster when you remember who you're meeting here, but you push those thoughts aside. Get a goddamn hold of yourself, Scratch. You got this, just don't be stupid about it.

You step up to the counter, ordering a coffee that's about as black as you can stand it before you hand over the bits. Within seconds, you get your steaming hot cuppa joe, and you nod your thanks before you pick a booth to sit at. Setting your saddlebags next to you, you look out the window as Celestia's sun sets further, causing the shadows to grow even longer as the light fades. Soon, Luna would be lifting the moon high into the sky, and then your favorite time of any day would begin: the night.

The front door opens, and your head whips up to see who it is. When your gaze is met with only a random stallion, you huff a bit to yourself and turn to look back out the window, continuing your casual observation of the streets outside. You lift your cup to your lips, forgetting that it was scalding hot, and you almost yelp when the near-boiling liquid hits your tongue and rolls down your throat. You slam the cup back down onto the table, the ridiculously loud clink causing a pony or two to turn to look at you as your tongue hangs out of your mouth, as if that would make it feel better faster.

At that very moment, with you looking like a moron, a familiar light grey mare walks through the door, scanning all the seats until her eyes rest on you. You watch her smile and giggle, and she waves over at you. You wave back before you notice your tongue is still hanging out of your mouth, and you quickly roll it back into your muzzle as she orders her drink at the counter. So much for not being stupid about it.

After a minute or so, Octavia trots over to your booth and sits down across from you, offering you that small smile that you've come to love seeing. Part of you is disappointed that she didn't sit next to you, but another is glad that she won't be so agonizingly close to you. "Hello, Vinyl." Her smile turns into a playful one. "I take it your drink was too hot for you earlier?"

You pause, and then remember the sight she saw when she walked in. You let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Uh, yeah, I forgot it was just made and stuff...totally burned myself trying to drink it. Stupid of me." You shrug, trying to embrace any kind of nonchalance you have in you.

Octavia simply waves a hoof at you. "Oh, come now, we've all done something like that before. I always try to drink hot things right away, thinking I can handle it. I never can." She gently blows on her drink, the steam flicking off of it as the liquid in the cup ripples from her breath. She glances up at you, stopping her cooling of her drink. "How have you been since we spoke last?"

You pause before you offer another little shrug. "Okay, I guess. Didn't do much of note, really." You hesitate for a second, and she seems to pick up on this, looking up at you fully. Her eyes are terribly distracting. "I was...thinkin' a lot about you." You manage to smile a little, and she smiles back at you, and you swear you see a little blush on her cheeks just like you did earlier.

"Oh? What about me?" You should've expected that kind of question, but long story short, you didn't and it caught you off guard.

You stop mid breath and bite your lip before you speak. "Well, uh..." You quickly plan out what you're about to say. "I was thinking about your performance this morning. About the presence you commanded up there on stage."

About how good you looked the whole time.

"And, uh...about the way you kept looking at me through it. And how, um...how nice your eyes were. Are. How nice they are." The very eyes you're talking about are looking up at you, and you never want to turn away from them. You swallow, your throat suddenly very dry. "And how they...seem to shine in any kind of light. And...how I could just get lost in them."

You feel a familiar heat in your cheeks, and you notice a similar one on her's. Blinking, you realize that you were slowly moving yourself forward as you were talking, and your body moves itself back to rest against the seat. You look down at the table between the two of you, shuffling your hooves awkwardly before you let out a chuckle. "Heh, I bet you get stuff like that from fans all the time, huh?"

"Well, actually...I don't."

You look up at her, surprised by her answer.

She continues. "Most of my fans are not very...passionate about my music. Or me, for that matter. I am simply considered to be a musician worthy of the upper class. I am not saying it's all bad, it pays quite well and I do like playing. But it's hard to find myself excited by it when most of the people who I play for will not show similar excitement back to me." She frowns and looks down at her drink, which is still steaming. Her hooves are holding the cup, as if to stay warm.

You can't help but feel bad for her, even though you haven't personally experienced something like that before. The crowds you played for were some of the most passionate ponies around. You could probably release garbage and they'd still love it, and love you playing for them. You never realized how good they were to you.

You reach out to set a hoof on one of her forelegs. "I thought you and the song you played were amazing, Octavia. I'd consider myself lucky if I could see you and hear you play every day." Offering her a sincere smile, she smiles back at you in return. And it made you fall for her even more.

The Night Is Still Young

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You talked with Octavia for a while after that, about numerous things. You were just finishing up telling her a story from your school days, which you had a lot of.

"So this guy is totally comin' onto me, right? He thinks he's hot shit, and he's leanin' in for a smooch," you mimic the kissy face that the stallion in your tale would be wearing, "so I lean back and give 'im what he's asking for." You turn to the side and toss out a hard right hook. "Bam! Right in his kisser. He goes down for the count, right, and a teacher is walkin' over-"

You're interrupted by a small yawn, which sounded like someone was trying to hide it. You glance over at Octavia, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, am I boring you?"

She shakes her head, smiling at you even as her eyes look sleepy. "No, I'm simply tired. It has been an exhausting day." She takes another sip her drink, which you figured was tea since she wasn't bouncing off the walls like you wanted to from guzzling your coffee. "But please, don't stop your story, it's just getting good."

You're about to launch back into the tale, but you hesitate. "Well...we can go back to my place, you know. It's close by, we can chill out, listen to some jams. Plus, if you pass out on me there, I won't have to drag you out of here." You offer her a grin before you move out from the booth, tossing a few bits onto the table as a tip.

She smiles back at you, nodding. "Alright. That sounds like a good plan." She finishes her tea before she moves and stands next to you. "Lead the way, Vinyl."

You nod at hear and walk out of the coffee shop with her, sudden chill of the night air making you shiver. You hadn't realized just how much time you two spent talking inside. Or how cold it would be later. You glance over at Octavia, and you see her shivering too. Your heart almost aches seeing it, and now you're wishing you brought a scarf so you could let her wear it.

At least, you wish that until she gets so cold that she moves up against you as you walk with her. Then you're suddenly glad you didn't have a scarf with you. You look down at her, trying to joke about it, wearing a grin on your face. "Someone should've brought a scarf, huh?"

She chuckles at your teasing, hiding her head in your neck as another breeze moves around the two of you. "I was not expecting it to get this cold tonight."

"Me neither." You really try to ignore how close she is to you right now, but it's easier said than done. You can smell faint hints of some kind of perfume, some sort of flowery scent that you couldn't place entirely. Her fur felt extremely soft and warm against yours, and it takes all of your self control not to rub your face all over it.

After a few more minutes of walking with her through the night, you lead her up to your own front door. You dig through your saddlebags for your keys, finding them and pushing them into the lock to unlock the door. As you step inside, you suddenly worry that the house won't be clean enough for her. You turn back to her, watching her look around as she walks inside.

"You know, Vinyl, I did not expect your house to be this large." She steps into your living room before looking back at you. "What do you do for a living, if you do not mind my asking?"

You shrug as you walk past her and into your kitchen. "I told you earlier, I mix music." You open a few cabinets with your magic, looking for something to snack on. "I'm, uh." You suddenly don't want to say what numerous critics and reviews have called you, as flattering as it is. "Well, ponies call me things like 'the newest revolution for the club scene' or whatever." You're trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible. "It pays the bits, that's for sure."

Your quest for a snack a failure, you trot back out into the living room, where you find Octavia looking at you incredulously. You blink. "What?"

"Vinyl, when you told me you mixed songs, you certainly did not mention that you were a famous pony because of it." Her eyes seem to shine in wonder. "Have you played at concerts? Oh, how many ponies were there?"

You really didn't expect her to be so interested. "Um, yeah, a few times. And at the biggest one there were, uh...a few thousand. Like easily around 25,000 ponies. Probably."

You watch as her jaw drops. "All those ponies...listening to you play live?"

"Well, yeah. Once ponies hear the beats I drop, they can't help but have a good time. That's what my concerts are. Thousands of ponies just lettin' it lose, having a blast." You almost feel embarrassed by the attention she's putting on this, even though you usually like to gloat about it whenever you can. "But it's not everyone's scene, you know? Some ponies can't handle it. It's...well, I can just show you."

You move yourself over to your mixing equipment, motioning her over with a hoof. You plug in two pairs of headphones, offering one to her as you slip the other over your own ears. Before you start the track, you look over at her, offering a grin as you turn and focus on all the dials in front of you and start the song.

It's not as long as your usual work, and it wasn't your best, but it also wasn't completed yet. It also wasn't your most loud and aggressive, by any means, which you figured was a nice starting point. As you adjust a dial, you glance over at her, and out of the corner of your eye you notice her slightly nodding her head along with the beat when it starts to pick up. Your grin from before only grows at this, satisfied that she seems to like it so far.

You crank the volume up a tad, adjusting bass and treble here and there as it plays, your movements sharp with a precision earned from years of talent and experience. You can feel her watching you as you move, but any thoughts including the outside world was lost as soon as you got into the song. Every fiber of your being was focused on your craft, on the numerous bass lines, on the small lead ins, on ever individual piece of the track.

And then, barely past a minute and a half, the song was over, and the sudden silence made you open your eyes and stop moving your hands across your equipment. You take off your headphones and let them rest around your neck as your head turns to look at Octavia. "So what'd you think? I mean, it's not totally done yet or anything, but-"

"I liked it."

"-some really heavy stuff planned for...what?"

She turns to face you, smiling. "I really liked it. It isn't like anything I usually listen to, or anything I was raised with, but it was something I never heard before. I admit, I might have never tried listening to it if you didn't specialize in the genre. But I'm glad I did."

Hearing this kind of praise from the mare you felt so strongly about (although not exactly sure if it's just infatuation or love at this point) sent your heart into a flurry, and you grinned at her, eating it up. But it seemed she wasn't finished yet. "It was amazing to watch you work. Your subtle movements on the dials and knobs, the focus that emanated from you the whole time, the way your eyes lit up every time the bass came in...it was something I want to see every day."

Your heart thudded in your chest at that, and you realized that it almost perfectly echoed your own words towards her at the coffee shop barely over an hour ago. Her eyes locked on yours, and you didn't waste any time getting lost in her gaze, her amethyst eyes shining up at you. You noticed that your throat was dry.

"U-Um. I have a. Bunch of other songs we could listen to."

"Do you?" You're aware that she's moving closer as you talk. Or are you moving closer to her? Maybe it was mutually moving nearer. At this point, you don't care.

You nod slowly, heat assaulting your cheeks. And elsewhere. "I. I have enough for the rest of the night."

"All night?" Is she giving you bedroom eyes right now?

"Yeah-"

And suddenly you feel soft, gentle lips press against your own.

As you feel a jolt through your entire body, you almost melt right there. Your nose immediately picks up the scent of her perfume again, and your tongue gets a small flavor of her in the kiss, a rather delicious flowery taste that matches the smells. You go weak at the knees, and it takes a lot of control to not fall over. This is what you wanted the entire day, ever since you saw her earlier that morning. You never wanted anything more than this moment.

And the night only got better from there.

The Morning After

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Celestia's sun, on this particular warm morning, seemed to make it its sole duty to shine right on your eyes through your bedroom window. You groan, burying your face further into your very warm pillow and scooting closer to the mass of warm blankets to your side. The warmth was oddly comforting, and you wrap your forelegs around it.

And then it shifts in your hold.

Your eyes fly open as you flinch back, sitting bolt upright, so fast that it makes your head hurt. As you gingerly rub your forehead with a hoof, you look down at the stirring pony next to you. You blink, and everything that happened the previous night rushes back into your memory. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, and you'd be entirely convinced it was all just a dream if Octavia wasn't lying right next to you.

Slowly, so as not to wake her, you try getting out of bed, the mattress creaking loudly in protest at the movements. You glance back as you hear stirring, and you see her beautiful, wonderful eyes slowly open and peer up at you. You can't help but offer a grin to her. "Uh...mornin'."

She smiles before she pushes herself up, rubbing her sleepy eyes with a foreleg. "Good morning, Vinyl." She leans in, rubbing her muzzle against your cheek, causing heat to rush up to your face all over again. She giggles at your expression. "Even after last night, a small affectionate touch still makes you blush?"

You let out a chuckle, but you can't hide the almost nervous tone it holds. "Heh, I guess so." You nuzzle back a little bit. "But it's still really nice, don't get me wrong." You push up off of your bed, stretching until your hear your back pop. "So, uh...what is this, then?"

She looks up at you, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." You pause, thinking over your words before you blurt them out. "What are we, now? Are we a couple, or...are we friends with benefits? Or something else?" You glance down at your hooves, shuffling in place. "I mean, if you don't know yet or anything, that's okay. I just don't want to expect this to be one thing and have it turn out to be something else-"

"Vinyl." The sound of her voice instantly makes you stop talking, and you look back up at her. She climbs off of the bed, standing next to you. "I know we only met yesterday, very recently to usually make a decision about this...but in that short amount of time, from the moment I saw you in the front row as I played, you stood out to me. Your vibrant mane, your piercing red eyes...you immediately piqued my interest. At first, I thought that maybe we could be friends, maybe good friends. But after last night..." Her voice trailed off, and for a moment you panic.

"What?" You didn't mean for desperation to show through that one word, but it did anyway.

"After last night, after my own feelings for you grew, and after I assume yours did the same for me...I think that, maybe, we should try being more than just friends." She ran a hoof through her messy mane. "I'm just not sure if we would be best as friends with benefits or something more meaningful than that."

"Yeah...I kinda feel you on that one." As much as your brain was telling you right there that you definitely wanted to be with her, you hesitated saying it. It was really soon to decide something like that. You heard of love at first sight, but you always found it ridiculous. You still kinda do. "But...maybe we could just. I don't know...try it, maybe? See what happens, you know? I mean, if you want to."

She smiles at you. "I would like that."

You smile back at her, before you hear a rumbling. You realize that it was your stomach, and you chuckle. "Uh, are you hungry at all or anything? I don't have much here, but we can go out to get something."

"I am, yes. Let me just shower first, then we can be on our way." She trots out of your room, her hips drawing your attention as they sashayed along as she walked, and her tail flicking side to side with each step. As ridiculous as it is, it almost seems like she's inviting you to come along, but you find yourself stuck in place.

You watch until she leaves your sight, then you blink and rub your sleepy eyes with a hoof. You slowly look back at your bed before you climb onto it, burying yourself under the sheets. "A few more winks couldn't hurt..."

----------

Those few winks, however, did hurt, because you're just more tired afterwards than you were before. You're groaning and grumbling the entire walk to the diner you two are going to eat at, and it leaves Octavia quite amused, if her giggles at the noises you make are any indication. You definitely don't mind her giggling at you, though, because it's a sound you'll never get tired of hearing.

Before long, the two of you arrive at the diner. The presence of two of the most famous musicians walking around together definitely turned some heads on the way there, and more than a few of your fans stopped and asked for autographs or a picture or some other thing.

"See, this is how my fans are, Octavia. Almost as excited about my music as I am, super passionate about it. It makes releasing new albums and tracks all the more satisfying, and the concerts get you so pumped up." You offer her a sleepy smile as the two of you walk inside. "If you want, you can definitely come to one of my shows, I can get you in no problem."

She smiles back at you. "I would like that, they sound terribly exciting and fun...but I'm worried it might be a bit." She pauses. "Much for me, for a first time."

"I get ya. A lot of ponies are like that." You both find a booth in the corner of the diner and sit down on the same side. "I can find something smaller, if you wanna try it out before doin' the real deal."

She leans towards you, rubbing her soft muzzle against your cheek, which earns her a big, dopey grin from you. "That would be much appreciated." She presses her head against your neck, and your head finds itself lightly resting on top of her's. You find out that it just feels right to you, and you lightly nuzzle your cheek into her mane.

Right then, a unicorn waitress trots up to your table and asks what you two want to drink. You blink, having not even looked at the menu but taking a stab in the dark. "Uh. I'll just have coffee, please. And bring the whole pot out, too." She nods as she scribbles it down on a notepad she's levitating with her magic, then turns to Octavia.

The light grey pony hesitates. "I suppose I will just have coffee as well." The waitress nods, and after she scribbles more words down, she trots off again, leaving the two of you alone in your booth.

You give Octavia a playful prod with your foreleg. "Hey, I didn't say I was gonna share with you."

She rolls her eyes, grinning. "It seems I will have to teach you manners, Vinyl."

You can't help but let loose a laugh. "Ha! I'd like to see you try, Octy."

Her grin shifts into something coy and mischievous, and one of her hooves finds itself resting on the inside of your back leg, hidden under the table. You tense and swallow as she whispers in your ear. "Oh, I can be mighty persuasive~"

And just as quick, she withdrawals her hoof, smiling as you sputter at her. Usually you were the one playing these kinds of games, so having the tables turned on you so deftly took you by surprise. The waitress brings your coffees to your table and sets the pot down in front of you, and Octavia gives her a thanks, even as you stare at her. She gently blows on the steaming liquid before glancing at you. "It's rude to stare, Vinyl."

You open your mouth to say something, but you just grumble and turn to the cup of coffee in front of you, focusing on just blowing on it to cool it off.

Something was telling you it would be a long breakfast.

The Most Beautiful Sound

by Caineachu

Vinyl Scratch, You're Going To A Concert

Never Heard Anything Like It

It's A Pleasure To Meet You

The Coffee Shop

The Night Is Still Young

The Morning After