> Bailando con la orquestra > by CodenameB4LYFE > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > An old friend's request > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The evening snowfall engulfed the air, as small white particles floated through the air, piling on the smoothened road of Canterlot. The frosty clouds, releasing the snow, covered the patched the early afternoon sky, coating the surface of the ground with a soft blanket of snow, in between the fallen and falling is a young mare, walking through the near empty streets. Her grey coat told any passerby that she had walked under the snowfall for quite some time as she was spotted with white flakes, slowly shrinking. On her upper body was a thick winter jacket, matching the color of her hair in the faded afternoon light. Walking past the black lamppost on the sidewalk, the mare’s brisk pace was matched with the jostling of the case on her back, a case for a large instrument, one which was at least taller than her, even if she stood on two legs. The mare hurried off, trying to get to her warm and heated apartment as fast as possible. She walked past street vendors, restaurants, and the odd couple walking in the snow. I will never understand why ponies would like to go on a date in the middle of winter, She thought to herself as she never really grasped the concept of why the Pegasi must make it snow, I think that pegasi would be better of keeping the cold as far away from me as possible, she continued. Her ignorance of weather’s importance can be attributed to her lack of a horn or a pair of wings, but aside from her earth pony ignorance, her physical fitness saw to it that she had arrived at her apartment before she had a mental breakdown on why magic is needed. Walking towards her door on the open air hallway, she found her number by memory, and fumbling through her pockets in her jacket, she found the grail of her quest, her apartment key. Hurrying to unlock the cold metal door, she pushed it open to be blasted by warm conditioned air, and a smart remark from her roommate. “Oh hey Octavia,” the mare asked, “How was your rehearsal?” The mare asking, Octavia’s roommate, was her foal hood friend, Vinyl Scratch, a disk jockey unicorn with an angel white coat and a electric blue mane. Walking in, Octavia closed the door. “It went well, since the three of us are about to perform without a violist, the work put in now holds a great amount of importance.” Wiping her hooves on the welcome mat, Octavia placed her giant bass to the small stand next to her shoe closet and took off her jacket and placed it neatly on the coat rack. Walking with an eased back, she entered the apartment living room, where she heard the voice originating from. The mare entered into the middle of the transformation of the living room into a small rave club. This movement of her furniture worried Octavia, “Um Vinyl,” she started. “Yeah,” Vinyl Replied. Octavia looked at Vinyl’s large turn tables and amplifiers, “Why is the living room being turned into a night club?” Octavia questioned as she lie down. Realizing the delicate situation, Vinyl replied “Oh, well you see, I needed some new material for a competition so I asked an old college friend for help; he studied fine orchestral composition, he should be coming over in around five minutes.” Hoping off her platform, Vinyl left the living room, only to return with a cardboard box filled with random computer equipment. “You know, he used to play a viola in college, if you needed a violist, I could persuade him to join the royal quartet.” Vinyl offered as she finished the last of her recording stage. Intrigued by her roommate’s offer, Octavia went to the front door and pulled out the music folder in the front pouch of her bass. Looking through it she found the recently returned viola sectional music which her fellow musician returned prior to his absence. “I’ll think about it, I’ll observe your interaction and see how well this goes.” As Octavia was walking back from her trip to her instrument, the metal knocking of the door echoed through the room. “Oh, he’s here, Octavia could you let him in?” Vinyl requested as she placed the last couple of pages down, Octavia opened to cold steel door. Past the entrance was a snow covered stallion, shivering with a rectangular case in his hooves. His small recessed eyes told of a lifetime of lack of sleep. His broad chest was thinly covered with a black jacket. His yellow fur was spotted with snow, and seemed to have soaked previous weathering. Octavia, dumbstruck by his features, stood in front of the doorway just staring at him, blushing at his largeness. “Um, can I come in ma’am?” He asked, looking at the starring mare. Realizing she was standing in between the door way, Octavia stepped back to allow room for him. “So is Vinyl here?” He asked as he brushed the frozen snow on his body. After he saw most of the snow melted, he took of his jacket and placed it on a rack. “Yeah, she’s in the living room,” Octavia replied, “So you are—?” Octavia inquired about him. Looking at her demeanor, he realized that they didn’t really know each other, “Oh, I don’t think we ever met in person,” He stated, “My name is Leading Tone, and you must be Vinyl’s roommate, Octavia.” Surprised that he knew about her, Octavia asked “Oh, has Vinyl talked about me when you meet each other?” Smirking at Octavia’s interest in herself, “Yeah,” Leading replied, “You’re her child hood friend.” Looking back at him, she smiled “I’m quite tired, so I guess I’ll go to my bed, but it was good to meet you.” She then quickly walked upstairs towards what Leading assumed was the bedrooms. After she had left Leading Tone pulled through into the living room, where he saw Vinyl finishing her music set up. Vinyl heard the presence of the Leading. “Oh, Hey man,” Vinyl started as she walked towards Leading, “It’s been too long, thanks for helping me out with this.” Coming closer to him, she finished her greeting with a small hug, “Um, Where’s Octavia?” she asked as she realized her absence. “She said that she was tired, so she went to her room.” He responded as he put down his instrument lightly to the floor and followed Vinyl towards her music rig. “So, what do you need me for?” He asked. Vinyl picked up a small music player, tossing it to him, “I made this synth, but the problem is that it is based off of orchestral, so I needed you to check its composition.” Catching the small player, Leading took out a pair of ear buds, and before playing the song, he inquired to Vinyl “Why did you need me to do this, from what I know, you have a roommate who plays in a orchestral quartet and can just as easily do this.” Vinyl replied to Leading's question, “She might be a good contender, but we’ve been living together since college, I don’t think she really can bring herself to critique my work as well, so I thought that I might get you to help.” Smiling at that thought, Leading said “Sounds like you two bonded quite a lot in that dorm.” Lifting her head up to rethink of her time in college, “Yeah, since I had a night job, I really couldn’t hang out with many ponies, it was really just you, her, and a couple of others from the club, and that was it.” She took a seat on the rearranged couch, “I met you in music composition class, but even then I never really told you who she was.” Thinking about the topic, Leading did realize that he and Vinyl had only interacted during class or final study sessions. “Yeah,” he started, “I never really asked you about her.” Taking a seat next to her on the couch, he asked “So how did you get along with her during you stay at the dorm?” Giggling at his newfound interest in the grey mare, Vinyl recounted the stories she and Octavia had during college. “We were like polar opposites, I was nocturnal, and she woke up at six in the morning. I would be messy and disorganized, but she was all prim and proper. I guess we played off each other to the point of acceptance, and it was all uphill from there.” Pausing to think, Vinyl redirected Leading’s question back to himself. “So enough about us, what about you, what have you been doing the year and a half since Canterlot Collegiate Academy?” Looking down at the ground, Leading’s expression turned depressed, “Honestly, it’s been a bit tough, two weeks before you called me, I had just lost my position as assistant musical director for Manehattan High school. I was kind of hoping you could help me around Canterlot for some job opportunities after I helped you.” Noting this of the music player, Vinyl hatched an idea, “How about this,” Vinyl proposed, “If you help fix up this piece, I can show you to a group who may need your help, but you help me out first.” She lifted her hoof to him, “Deal?” Smirking, Leading Tone shook with the out stretched hoof, “Deal, but is it okay if I stay the night?” He asked. “I kind of didn’t think of booking a hotel when I got to Canterlot, so I really don’t have a place to stay.” Sighing at the need of Leading Tone, Vinyl got up and went to her turntable, “You can stay if I end up with a usable song.” Vinyl replied. Following suite, Leading got up and started his work on the music. The two spent most of the night rearranging notes, shifting beats, and generally working on the song until both of them were too tired that they gave it a rest and both lazily rested on each other on the nearby couch. Morning came with bright rays of sunlight casted through the windows of the living room. The light passed over the lone white unicorn on the couch, rudely waking her up from her short sleep. Lightly yawning, Vinyl got off the couch and stretched a bit, noticing that the other pony that was with her on the couch was missing. Now fully awake and aware of the missing member, she first concluded that he left early, only to see his instrument case on the floor, where he put it last night. Starting to wonder where he was, Vinyl started to notice the sounds of sizzling, and she walked towards the kitchen, where she saw Leading Tone, fully awake, cooking something that smelled wonderful. Walking in the kitchen, she was greeted by a hello from him. “Hey, good to see you’re awake, I’m sorry if I woke you up, but I wanted to get you in a good mood so that we can finish the song.” Pulling a little plate out of the cabinet as if he lived there, he placed the recently made omelet on it. “I don’t know how good this is, I haven’t cooked a cheese omelet in a while.” He took out a fork and handed Vinyl, her breakfast. Moving the fork, Vinyl inspected the omelet, and when she was sufficiently pleased with it, she cut a piece and tasted it. The immediate creamy flavor of the small piece sparked a feeling of enjoyment. “This is great,” she complemented him. “When did you learn how to cook this well?” she asked as she continued to eat the food. Picking up some whisked eggs in a bowl, he poured it on to the oiled pan, and then looked at her and replied, “I learned it from my mother,” he started, “My parents own a restaurant in Manehattan. My mother cooked in the kitchen and when I was a colt, I would go down there and help out, later on she taught me how to cook.” “That’s neat,” Vinyl replied, finishing up last bits on the plate, Vinyl picked it up and placed it next to the sink, “So, do you want to finish song?” Vinyl asked apprehensively as she moved to the music rig. Placing the just cooked food on a nearby plate, He replied “Let me give this to Octavia, and then we’ll finish the song, okay.” Pulling out a small tray, Leading put the plate of food on it, placed a glass of orange juice, and balanced it upstairs. Walking to the second floor, Leading realized that he didn’t know which room was Octavia’s. Shrugging it off, he started opening doors, finding the closet, then a bathroom, and then a bedroom which he assumed was Vinyl’s with the lack of order, random records on the shelves, and the bright electric-blue bed cover. Yup, Vinyl is still as egotistical as a royal Leading thought as he closed the door. Moving on to the last unopened door, he turned the doorknob carefully as not to drop the metal tray. Creeping through the door, He walked inside, firstly noticing the slight snoring of the grey mare resting on her side on top of the bed adjacent to the wall. Her body was covered with a simple blanket, which of course had some music notes and clefs embroidered on it. Closing the door quietly, he paced through the clean room, making his way towards the side of the bed. I’ll just lie this on the night stand He planned as he tipped toed to the wall. Standing next to her bed, he noticed an opened small novel and an unused bookmark on her night stand. Using his free hoof, he put the book mark in the book and cleared it to the side, making room for the tray. As he placed down the metal tray, it made a short ring as it hit the furnished wood table, alerting the sleeping mare. She grunted undecipherable sounds, then reached out to the sound, only finding his hoof. Feeling the warm slender limb, the sleeping mare pulled in the hoof to her, snuggling with it. Reacting towards the unwanted pull, “Hey Octavia, wak—,” he started to interdict until his felt his hoof cares her torso. His hoof rolled over her body, feeling her soft unclothed fur. Oh my gosh, she nake- oh wait no, she has laces, he said in his mind only realizing that having undergarments didn’t really help his predicament. Trying to slip his hoof out of her bodies grasp, he moved his hoof up above her fore hooves, crossing over her chest. “Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, don’t wake up,” He chanted to himself when he felt his hoof cross over her upper undergarment. Somehow reading his mind, Octavia felt the lack of her new body pillow, and started to come to. Blinking a bit, all she felt was a hoof caressing her undergarment. Looking at the hoof touching her, she craned her head up, staring at him eye to eye. Realizing what a bad situation he was in, Leading pulled back from Octavia, “Wait, let me explai-,” he tried to explain before he was cut off by a full force punch by her directed straight to his head. WHAM. The last sense of consciousness let him see his attacker, Octavia, near naked, with her face emanating the insatiable anger, powering the pulled in hoof for another hit. WHAM. He felt the hoof contact his chest, hitting him in the lung and causing large amounts of pain. Then he felt darkness. > My Second Chance > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 Slowly gaining consciousness, Leading slowly lifted himself up, only to fall back down because of the pain in his chest. Trying to open his eyes, he looked up to see a blank white roof. Turning to his side, Leading tried getting up without move his torso, which let his back on his hooves albeit longer. Regaining his bearings, Leading looked around the room to realize that this was not the same room he had been in. Moving around, everything was different, the walls were decorated with nature paintings, the beds smelled off, even though the mattress coverings looked brand new. The room looked like it was a suitable home, except for the fact that there was no personal property or evidence that anyone lived there. Adding up the facts, Leading guessed that he was in the room of an apartment or something of that sort. His conclusion was solidified when he looked to the night table, which had the business identification for the Home Town Motel. Walking around, Leading started to feel the pain in his chest again, one that felt like a sharp knife fell through his heart. Looking at the area of pain, Leading realized that he was not wearing his black dress shirt, but instead was wearing the white undershirt that he normally wears underneath it. On top of the shirt were icepacks, well, what used to be ice, that was attached with a clear wrap. Sitting back down on the bed, Leading slowly ripped the clear plastic wrapping, letting the dripping bags of cold water drop down. Looking back down, he noticed a couple of wet spots on his shirt, and decided that he needed a suitable replacement. Looking around the small room, He noticed his black dress shirt was folded up neatly on the work desk at the end of the room. Picking it up, a paper dropped down from the shirt. After putting his black shirt down, he picked up the paper to realize that it was a letter from Vinyl. Hey Leading, I know I don’t know much, I’m sorry for what happened this morning. I’m going to take the benefit of the doubt and assume that this was some sort of misunderstanding. I tried telling this to Octavia, but she is as stubborn as ever. If you’re reading this, you should be in a hotel on the outskirts of Canterlot. From the way I see it, I think its best that you don’t attempt to approach us, and you would probably safer if you left Canterlot entirely. I left your Viola and your belongings in the hotel room. ~Vinyl Reading over the letter, Leading sighed, I didn’t do anything wrong, he thought to himself. Taking his black dress shirt, he started to change from his undergarment. Taking his time, he removed his under shirt to reveal his shredded physique. Looking at himself, all he saw was a long streak of scarred flesh. Reminding himself of its origin, Leading quickly put on his dress shirt trying to cover the scar as fast as possible. Looking around, he guessed that he really had nothing to do, so Leading picked up his viola and strapped it on his back, grabbed undershirt, and trotted to the end of the room, and opened the door. Peering outside, all he saw was carpeted floors and the same bland painted walls. The color followed down through a hallway. Walking down the hall, Leading saw a countless number of the same type of door with ascending numbers. Walking past to the end of it, he opened the door at the end, to get flooded with the artificial light. Lifting his right hoof to shield himself, he viewed his surroundings. The dim afternoon sun forced the hotel to turn on the lights. The house lamps that lit up the room surrounded the front desk of the plaza. Working in the desk, the apparent manager of the hotel was on all fours searching for something. Walking towards the desk, he readjusted his viola case on his back and rang the bell. His response to that was a crash from the underside of the desk. “Ouch,” said a feminine voice from under the desk. Emerging from the under belly of the desk was a mare, a light black coat and an azul blue mane. Peering through her full frame glasses, she focused on him through the lenses, “Oh, hello sir,” she greeted, “What do you need?” “Oh,” He started, “I can’t seem to remember, but do you know if there was anyone with me when I booked in?” He inquired, “My name is Leading Tone, but I may be registered under Vinyl Scratch.” Looking down onto her desk, the mare scuttled some quills and empty ink bottles in search for what was a neat notebook ledger. Flipping through the most recent addition to the ledger, she slowly pulled her hoof down over the bars until she stopped on one, “Yes, we did have a Ms. Scratch book a room.” She looked back at him, “Is there anything else you would like to request?” Thinking, Leading realized his first worry should be how long he’s been knocked out. Replying to the question, he asked “Um, last thing, but when did she check me in?” Moving across the bar, she placed her hoof on a date, “Yeah, she checked you in yesterday, near noon.” Shuddering a bit by the shock of the information, Leading nodded a “thank you” before turning in the keys to the room. Turning to the front gate, Leading opened the stained wood doors before being shined with the redden light of the late afternoon winter sun. Raising his hoof to shield him from the bright glare, Leading readjusted the strap on his viola before he started walking. He didn’t really have much of a destination for his walk, but he knew walking helped him think and kept him warm in the winter. The first thing on his agenda would be to find out where he was. Looking around, all that his eyes could see were small businesses and the two story hotel. Leading realized that really didn’t tell him where he was, but then he remembered the letter Vinyl wrote. If you’re reading this, you should be in a hotel on the outskirts of Canterlot. “Out skirts of Canterlot,” He muttered to himself. After rereading the subtle threat at the end, Leading devised that he shouldn’t go back to central Canterlot. Thinking through all the options, Leading walked toward the line where the concrete sidewalk melted with the asphalt road. Flagging a passing taxi, Leading walked onto the carriage, instructing the driver, “Take me to outer Canterlot Train Station please.” The short trip to the train station was uneventful, but he knew that some peaceful and quiet time should help him with his current problem. Thinking about the current situation, Leading’s best solution was to accept Vinyl’s offer and just run out of town. Thankfully for him, he wasn’t kicked out of his home, or even his hometown. As the cab stopped in the train station, he paid for his trip, the immediately called for a one way ticket to Manehattan. Laying out the correct amount of bits at the teller, he picked up the small card, stamped with the time and destination. Reading over the information, he noticed that he had twenty minutes before departure, so Leading placed himself on a nearby bench before waiting. He looked over his belongings, and sighed, everything is here, but now I just blew off half my bits and I still don’t have a current job, He thought to himself. The realization of his less than ideal living daunted his mind during the wait, he had no job, he had no opportunities, and now an old friend hates his guts. These wayward thoughts hovered over him as his head took refuge in his hoof’s, both to muffle his crying and to soak the tears. What did I do to end up like this?, he though. After a few moments of pain, Leading took in a deep breath to compose and he grabbed his belongings and walked towards the waiting gate, looking on at the empty tracks. 2 weeks later The midwinter morning shone through the foggy window, flowing onto Leading’s sleeping face. The change in light gently woke up the resting musician. Leading opened his eyes, taking in the familiar apartment’s pale white color. Moving out of his blankets, He got out of bed to start his day. Same crummy start to my same crummy life, he thought. Getting in to his closet, Leading dawned on a simple black dress shirt. He was thankful that his current job allowed him to feel a bit professional. Checking himself in the mirror, he saw that he was decently presentable, and so he picked up his viola case laying on the couch and made his way to the front door. Pushing the wooden door open, the freezing winter gale quickly seeped into his room. Shivering through the winter weather, Leading trudged through the cold, dry environment, readjusting the black case on his back. Getting on the side walk, Leading slowly walked though a familiar path to his job. The winter frost coating on the street slowly froze his hooves until the short walk brought Leading into a small bar. Opening up the bar, he felt the warm heat radiate to him as the cold air flushed inside. Propping the door behind him, he looked around and found the chairs flipped on the table and the bar yet to be ready. Moving to a small blackened music stage, he placed his instrument down on it before calling out for the absent bartender. “Hey, Tall Glass?” he cried “You here?” Responding to the call was a pale grey stallion, elder in his years, who had just came out from the restroom. “Yeah I’m here,” he said, “If I wasn’t here, and you would still be outside starring at the locked door.” Walking towards the tabled, he started putting he chairs down, before looking right at Leading with a glare. “Are you going to help me or what?” He asked as he set up another table. Picking up with his employer, Leading started the usual morning shift like he did so many times before. When the bar opened, fellow coworkers would serve the customers while Leading got up on stage, playing pieces on his viola. When the chance came up, there would be deafening silence in the bar, letting only the melodic sounds of his instrument ring out for all the patrons to hear. It were those moments in his day that kept him going, not the complements or the flattering of his skill, but when he knew that everypony could hear what he played. When the bar started to die down after the lunch time heat, Leading went up on a barstool to relax on his break. “Hey Tall Glass, could I have a cold cider, whatever you have.” Instead of placing a drink down, the bar tender put down a small cloth bag. “Here,” Glass said. Inspecting the contents of the envelope, Leading loosened the cord to behold a small heap of Bits inside the cloth. Taking out some of the Bits, Leading looked at Tall Glass with some confusion. Clearing up the confusion over the money, Tall Glass explained, “I think you know about it, but I can’t keep you on staff, so this is you payment for the last few days.” Taking out a folded page, he handed the parchment to Leading. Looking at the page in front of him, Tall Glass dictated the information held on the page. “There is a masquerade ball, to be held in a week in celebration because of Luna’s visit to Manehattan. The problem is that the planners of the party failed to get a complete musical quartet to play. So they’re holding auditions for the missing part.” Filling in the spots, Leading replied, “And let me guess, they’re missing a violist.” “Yeah,” Tall Glass said, “So since the auditions are two days from now, you might want to start practicing the pieces.” “So I guess that this is good bye,” Leading said, sheepishly putting forth his hoof. Smirking, Tall Glass shook his hoof, “Yeah, thank you for your work, it was nice to listen to you.” Picking up the audition form, he grabbed his instrument and left for his apartment. > The Great Void (Contains slight cursing) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Mr. Tone, you requested to perform Ponybels Cannon with a Fortepiano accomplice. You may start at any time and the pianist will join in.” Looking towards the small table, Leading squinted to readjust to the bright and flashy stage light poured onto him. Turning to his left, he observed his pianist readjusting the pages in front of him. Pulling the Viola up onto his shoulders, he started the simple cannon, allowing the smaller sound of his instrument be taken in by the introduced Fortepiano. Relaxing, he continued playing the song, letting his pianist follow his stylistic changes. Keeping his cool, he played the song with as much emotion and vigor. The wedge shape of the auditorium magnified the music played; making the sound that reached the ears of the judges to become louder that if he was to play out in a park. The sounds of his four metallic strings flew as they oscillated against the bridge. The slurred moments with his bow would have awed any amateur. As the two skilled musicians played, their duet echoed together with great harmony. The unnatural tug and pull of the song continued throughout the audition until Leading came to the end of the piece, letting the pianist catch up from the two measure gap. Easing the wooden instrument from his fore-hooves, he stood up from his seat and walked down the stage. As he got to his seat, covered by his case left ajar, the table of judges announced to all the musicians. “That ends the audition; we will spend the today reviewing each of your performances. You will receive a letter regarding the outcome of the audition later today, and the musician deemed the best suited will revive a formal invitation. That is all, you are dismissed.” Following with the judges, the small mob of talents picked up their cases and left stage room, leaving the just finished Leading by himself. Stowing away his instrument in his case, Leading picked up his belongings and headed to the recently used exit. Peering out of the theater and into the winter streets, Leading walked back to his home, both nervous and fearful of what was to come of the audition. My entrance wasn’t so good, he thought, I could have done more vibrato or I could have put more emphasis on the piano parts. Leadings mind continued to bombard itself with the questions of doubt, increasing furthermore as the mute silence of the streets allowed him to think louder in his mind. Oh Celestia, He thought, What would happen if I don’t make it, what will I do, no job, no cash. I need to be picked. Those final thought of the auditions outcomes make the stallion stop in his tracks. His current life situation had put him in an endless spiral of doom that kept him in a constant state of failures. Stopping at a slow intersection, Leading thought back to his recent trip to Canterlot, replaying the two days that ruined him. But through those memories, all that Leading could think of was that moment, right as he peered over Octavia’s resting body, with his hoof embraced by her subconscious hug. In all of that, Leading could feel a bit of warmth rekindled in his heart. It was as if her sleeping act had ignited the lonely soul stuck in his body. Jumping back to his reality, the intersection had halted, letting Leading to pass. Using this jolt from daydreaming, Leading calmed his thought, reassuring himself that he had a good possibility to getting accepted. Getting back to his more important matters, Leading continued to navigate throughout the city, walking by shops and restaurants. Yet all that was walking in his mind was the image of Octavia on the bed. No, he thought to himself, she hates you and thinks you are a pervert. She has done nothing but made your life harder. These thought echoed in his skull for the rest of the walk, and continued as he made it into his home. Closing his mind to open his door, Leading popped into his humble apartment, locking the door behind him. Walking into his bedroom, he dropped his viola case down near his bed as he took a great leap into his mattress. Breathing in the nice smell of a semi-fresh bed cover, Leading cracked his head to the right, looking at his night stand standing in front of his eyes. Scanning through the random junk he had on it, he reached out and pulled out a small parchment. Pulling to his face, he read over the page. The page, recently made, was the only thing that helped explained what happened after that day. Reading over it, all that he could surmise was the utter failure he had on that day. Listening to the silent words Vinyl wrote, Leading felt a prick of joy as he knew the only thing keeping him from a lawsuit was her. Vinyl always was able to read a face with ninety nine percent certainties of how you were feeling and how to help fix your pain. He envied her for her emotional skills, but yet wished for her skill to know what she is feeling right now, a small taste of distrust, some sadness and disappointment. Whatever she felt of him, he knew he would never find out, and it although it pains him to be reminded of his lost of a friend, he couldn’t get out the reason why he lost his friend. The recollection of Octavia started to come back, but before he could even think of something else, all that he felt was of a strong warmth flowing in his core. The sole inception of the sight of her face brought small touches of joy in his head. Stop, he said to himself, you feel nothing, and she feels the same. Sighing, Leading just pulled up the covers closed his eyes, letting him wait for the letter in his sleep. Letting the calm relaxation of his mind, Leading sunk into his bed, resting his body and mind. As his self awareness dulled, sharp jolts of fear overtook Leading. Engulfed in memories of his past, Leading observed through such as surreal sense, of the day that had haunted him. A day in his recent past that had brought him to this moment, tormenting him all along the way. As the dream rolled onwards, he started to lose his grasp of physical relaxation, as in his reaction to the memory, he moved around his limp body, trying to swat away the feelings of pain. Slowly through the confrontation, he gained enough control in his dream to think. With all his will power, he repeated the same thought trough his mind THIS IS NOT REAL, Only a memory. Muttering that mantra constantly as his conscious started to fade into emptiness, his grasp of his dream started to loosen. Each of the clashing pains he felt pierce his chest, he felt his life awareness grow away. The painful experience flowed throughout his body, keeping his body in a long lasting self torment. Giving into the desires of his subconscious, Leading silenced himself, and blocked off his senses before opening his arms to the pain that was surely to follow, but amid the initial nothingness, Leadings pain was ebbed away. Opening his hearing and curling up his eyes, he observed the haunting blackness, a blackness that fell upon the uncanny valley, yet had not felt threatening in any way. The void that filled him was restful and filled with much peace. Where is the pain, he asked out to the darkness. Leading did not expect a response from the void, but something did pass through his ear. “Rise Ser Tone, I hold an important message.” The voice was calm and humble; it had a male distinction but held no hurry. A moment of silence followed before the message came again, but stronger and with some deep pitched sounds, like the sound of punched wood. “Rise Ser Tone, I hold an important message!” The sounds became louder and were spaced less as the following times he heard the voice, the once at peace sound became frantic, “Rise Ser Tone!” it called, “I hold an important message!” The voice continued constantly, giving a moment of peace before the sounds and the voice came with great worry. It continued and before long, it became painful to endure the auditory assault on his head. The voice, long giving up on his ladder end of the message, had only spoken his name “Leading Tone?” Soon his mind and body clashed as his conscious self tried to waken, but was held in check by the tired and sleep-lusting subconscious. The battle between the two was ended rightly as Leading felt himself open his eyes. The bright light of the afternoon sun embraced his eyes, as his head caught on to the open window he was staring at, his ears started to hear the sounds of a frantic hoof hitting the front door. “Mister Tone! For both of our sakes, open this Celestia damned door!” Awakened by his situation Leading jumped out of his bed, ignoring the sheets that just flew off; raced out of the bed room and ran right to the front door. Fumbling with the lock, Leading clicked the lever open and pulled the knob back. As the door opened, he was met face to face with one of the judges from the audition. Surprised by the unorthodox form of communication, he greeted his new guest, hoping to explain the situation of the past five minutes. “Hello Sir, um, this is weird of me saying this but I’m about my sleeping habits, I’m that one percent that sleeps like a log when nervous.” Opening the door fully, he was able to observe the much flustered pony. The judge, a stallion of medium build, had seemed to be much more relaxed now that he opened the door. The simple black two piece suit implied of an occupation outside of labor and it fit well with his white coat, the blue frizzed hair seemed to go fitting with his features. Concentrating back to the conversation, he heard the judge respond. “Mister Tone, on behalf of the planning committee, I welcome you to perform for us as a stand in Violist.” Bowing his head out of respect, he continued, “I have the music we will commission for you to perform with me, but due to time restraints, you will be rehearsing with the other musicians the day of the Masquerade ball. Shocked by the sudden transition, Leading looked back at the judge, filling himself with joy as the judge took out the stack of music from a satchel on his back. “Here you go,” he said as he gave the music to Leading, “And remember, this is a full Masquerade ball, you will have to use a full mask, if you don’t have one, we can lend you one.” Checking his satchel, the judge turned to Leading, “I think that is all, so I will leave you be, and I hope to see you in two days.” Moving out of the door frame, the judge started to let Leading by himself to practice, but was stopped by a question from Leading. “Sir, why me?” he asked. “What do you mean as why you, you were the best, obviously” the judge replied. “No sir, I mean, I don’t really play as a professional, I’m just a normal pony who tried out, I know there were others more capable than I that were on that roster.” Leading replied Rubbing his foreleg, the judge looked back at the questioning stallion, “To be honest, I know that you were less capable than the rest, but that is why I picked you.” He started, “you had taken this challenge of auditioning, even when there were ponies more capable than you, and when you got on stage, you played from your heart, not from your talent.” Clearing his throat, he turned away and started on his way, “That is why you were picked, you love of music.” 2 days later Through a laboring two days, Leading managed to crunch through the long list of musical pieces, finding that the list of twenty scores had been less than delightful in learning, even less so in just two days. Yet with all of his work, and small favors asked around his hometown, he was able to scrounge together a simple black suit to fit his white hair, and a golden mask to cover his front head. The short cab ride towards the ball was expectedly rigged, an experience he would normally hackle with the driver, but in the sake of professionalism, he let it go. Moving to the main entrance, he took out a government issued ID, and showed it to the door pony. Taking the card, the door pony crossed the name on the list. Finding a match he handed him back the ID and gave him a pamphlet. “These are your fellow musicians, they should be coming soon, but you only have two hours before the guests arrive.” The Door pony instructed Leading towards the music room where they were to practice all together. As he entered the cramped and poorly illuminated room, Leading laid his viola case down of the floor and prepared the enclosed instrument. Once he checked the wood and strings, he laid it down on a nearby desk, and as he waited for the other musicians, Leading took of his golden mask and flipped thru the pamphlet. Checking through the important guests that were to celebrate this occasion, he checked to the back where the planning committee had listed those who catered, maintained and performed at the ball. Checking the musicians, apparently the quartet who was to be playing was called the Luminous Quartet, even though the quartet had obviously lost a member. Skimming through the background, he noticed that the violinist was an old friend of his back in his private lessons. Optimistic about who he was going to play among, his eyes stopped at a profile image on the next page. On the page following his old acquaintance, was the image of a mare he had met not so long ago, and had the great honor of finding our first hoof, how hard she punches. Haunted by the not so distant memory, he looked in horror at the image of Ocatvia Philharmonica looking right at him.