What would Ocellus do if everyone, except for her, forgot The Beatles?
Warning: The following is currently unedited. You have been warned.
In the land of Equestria, the music of The Beatles has become beloved. For Ocellus, thanks to Sandbar, she has been introduced to their music and has picked up music lessons to play one of their songs. But what would happen if one day, she wakes up and finds that no one, not her friends, her scholarly Headmare, or even all of Equestria has forgotten about the Fab Four?
An idea that's based on the film "Yesterday," and is taking in a deeper dive into this brilliant concept.
A special thank you to Geek Crossing for this wonderful cover for this story.
“So, Ocellus,” Sandbar asked, “how are your music lessons going?”
The young, blue Changeling adjusted her saddlebag. Although the hike through the White Tail Woods was rather trying for the whole class – especially Professor Applejack’s survival class – the sudden spring for conversation was welcoming. Since most conversations had fallen quiet for the last half-hour of the field trip, Ocellus greeted the break in the monotony.
“It’s coming along,” she replied to her friend, “Octavia is pretty nice and helpful. She made sense in how the guitar works along with what notes go where.”
“That’s good,” Sandbar, a young light green pony nodded. “And what song are ya gonna be doing?”
“Well, since we agreed that it’s best that I stuck with doing something easy for now, we thought that we should start out with the song, Yesterday.”
“Ooh! That’s a good one!” He beamed, “It’s such a classic.”
“Well, it’s hard not to be influenced when I could hear you playing The Beatles through the wall.” She giggled.
“What can I say? They’re my favorite band. They changed and influenced how music was thought about.”
“Maybe because their stuff is catchy. You know, until I came to school, I never heard of them. But once I’ve heard you playing their songs on that phonograph of yours, it’s hard to forget. To me, they sound like a lot of fun. All You Need is Love, Yesterday, Elanor Rigby, Yellow Submarine, Come Together, Strawberry Fields, Twist and Shout, it’s songs like those that want me to pick up an instrument and sing along.”
“I know, right!” Sandbar smiled.
“Hey! You two gonna catch up or what?” Shouted Smolder further up on the trail. The two of them quickly realized that they were behind and galloped over to catch up. Smolder the Dragoness was looking over her shoulder when they came up. She was behind Gallus, a Griffon; Yona the Yak, and in the lead was Silverstream the Hippogriff. “So, what got you guys distracted back there?”
“We were just talking about The Beatles,” Ocellus told her, “and that I’m gonna be playing one of their songs.”
Gallus asked her which one of their songs, and when she told him, he rolled his eyes. “You really should play Hey Jude, now that’s a fun one that’s catchy as Tartarus.”
“You know who The Beatles are?” Sandbar asked, an eyebrow raised.
“You’d be surprised by the amount of thrown away records we keep finding in Griffonstone.” He replied. “To be honest, before I came here, I was getting sick of Sargent Pepper being played on loop.”
“My favorite is Here Comes the Sun,” Silverstream interjected. “I love to hear it whenever I’m having a bad day. Once it starts playing, it’s like my troubles are washed away.”
“Yona thinks Beatles… okay.” Yona lifted up a hoof, waving carelessly. “Music nice. But Yona thinks pony music be better.”
“I see what you mean.” Smolder agreed. “The druggy stuff is a little too weird for my taste. But some of the other stuff isn’t that bad.”
“Well, I like them.” Ocellus said. “I still kinda wish that they might have made more songs, or at the very least meet them before they split up.”
“Too bad that half of them are still living, though.” Sandbar commented. “Hayson died of cancer, and Lemon murdered…” he shook his head. “It’s still sad, but at least McCart and Star are around, too bad that concert tickets to see either one of them costs a fortune.”
“Maybe,” the Changeling shrugged. “But you know, whenever I do play that song, I kinda daydream what it might have been like to play it along sides them. To become a Beatle, in a way.”
“Yona confused.” The Yak interjected, “Ocellus said Changelings not bugs.”
Ocellus laughed. After a while, the conversation died out as the students continued on the path when, out from the corner of the Changeling’s eye, she spotted something. Off from the path, she noticed a clearing where there was a patch of mud that looked like parts of it were glowing in a spectrum of colors. Curious, she flew over to that clearing to get a closer look.
The mud sat at the bottom of where a portion of the ground had sunken a little. But the longer she looked at it, the more colors that it changed as the soft earth illuminated from red to purple to green, to yellow, to blue and so on. She couldn’t sense any magic from this curious patch of soil as it was radiating light.
“Hey guys!” she called out, “Come look at this.” While she waited, she did what any creature would do – she reached out to touch it. At first, it just felt like ordinary mud. But when she tried to pull away, she found that she couldn’t move, as her hoof was sinking further in. “Guys!” she tried to pull away, but it kept being sunken in further. “GUYS! HELP!”
More of her foreleg was being swallowed up as if something from underneath had taken hold of her and wasn’t letting go. But while she struggled, she heard her friends come rushing in by the time her face was touching the mud. The next thing she knew, she felt their hooves and claws taking hold of her as she was sinking further. She held her breath before her head went under.
Ocellus couldn’t remember how she has woken up in a hospital bed. But the next thing she knew, her eyes were fluttering open in the sanitized lights overhead. Her vision cleared up as she could make out some figures around her. One of them leaned over her face. She could hear words with a tone that was concern. It took her a minute for her eyes and ears to readjust and process what was happening.
It was a face. And from the purple eyes, she realized who it was. Her mother was asking if she was alright.
“Mom?”
She felt being hugged by her. “Oh, thank Goddess, you’ve scared us! I almost thought we’ve lost you.”
Blinking, Ocellus took notice that not only that the rest of her family was here, but so were her friends. “What’s going on?”
“Hey Ocellus,” Smolder waved. “So long story short, you were nearly sucked into some kind of magical quicksand or something like that and you uh… almost died. We were able to pull you out, but we had to rush you over to the hospital as quickly as possible.”
“But you’re safe now,” her cherry eyed father said, placing a hoof over her head. “We got here as quick as we could to make sure you’re alright.”
Sitting up, she rubbed her hooves over her eyes. “How long am I going to be here?”
“Just overnight,” Sandbar told her. “There’s just some medicine you got to take and make sure that you don’t have anything that would make you sick.”
“Joy,” she said sarcastically, letting herself fall back and her head landing on a pillow.
“Which is why,” Smolder went around and pulled out a guitar. “I thought I’d bring this to you. That at least it would give you something to do.”
“My guitar,” she smiled, taking the instrument into her hooves. “How thoughtful of you. Since I’m going to be stuck here overnight, I might as well rehearse that song I’m practicing.”
“What song?” her mother asked.
“Oh! I don’t think you’ve heard of it yet, I just barely figured out how to play it. Do you mind if I…?”
Her parents told her to go right ahead.
Looking down at the row of strings, she took a moment to remember where exactly her hoof should be before she started to play slowly the first few bars, almost like a waltz in rhythm. And then, she began to sing. However, as she sang the first few lines that she stopped. Looking up, she noticed the faces of her parents in which they were entranced, however, what got her attention was her friends. They were looking at her wide-eyed. Amazed at what they were hearing. “What?”
“Well…” Sandbar gestured his hoof, “go on.”
Blinking, she did. As she continued on to sing, she observed the expressions of her friends. They were enchanted as if they never heard of the song before.
She couldn’t finish the song as she noticed how her friends were looking at one another. “Oh wow…” Silverstream whispered. “That was amazing! What was that?”
“Yesterday?” The Changeling answered.
“I must say,” her father told her, “that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Since when did you learn to write songs like that?” Gallus asked.
Ocellus blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about? I didn’t write it. McCart did.”
“Huh?” Sandbar tilted his head.
“You know, McCart. The Beatles.”
All her friends looked at one another, sharing a puzzled look. “Who?” The pony asked.
“The Beatles,” Ocellus said. “You know, Lemon, McCart, Hayson, and Star.” They blinked. “The Fab Four…? One of the greatest bands of all time…? Ringing any bells?”
“Is this new band?” Yona inquired.
“No! This was a group that was around in the ‘60s. Oh,” The young Changeling smirked. “I get it, this is a joke, isn’t it? Okay, ha-ha, very funny.”
“Now what are you talking about?” Gallus questioned. “We’re not pulling a prank here. You think we would when you’re in the hospital?”
“You’re…” Ocellus’s expression changed from skeptic to realization. “You’re serious?”
“Hon,” her mother asked, “are you okay?”
“But… you can’t be serious.” She insisted, ignoring her mother’s concern. “Sandbar, you introduced their music to me. They’re your favorite band.”
“Uh… no?” He shook his head, “That’s the The Who. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Still,” Smolder said, “that was still a pretty nice sounding song there.”
“Nice?!” She sat up, nearly hopping off the bed. “That wasn’t just a ‘nice sounding song!’ It’s Yesterday! One of the greatest songs ever written! How can any of you not heard of it!?”
“Ocellus,” her father said, placing a hoof on her, “calm down. We’ve never heard of it either. And while that was really good, but you still need to rest.”
“But-”
“No buts,” her mother interrupted. “Ocellus, we’re grateful that you’re back, but right now, you need to rest up and do what the doctors tell you. Okay? You can practice that lovely song all you want, but what’s important right now is you need to take care of yourself.”
Even after her friends had left and her parents after, Ocellus lay in bed, thinking. It had to be a joke. A prank. That’s what it got to be. Her family was one thing was as they never heard of The Beatles or their songs. So, their behavior was believable. But her friends? They knew perfectly well who that band was. That was a fact. They couldn’t have forgotten the Beatles.
Except… she could sense when they were talking that they were all sincere. Nothing to hint that they were lying. However, even then they couldn’t be able to forget them…
Right?
As soon as she was free to leave, Ocellus went straight towards the school’s library. She spent hours desperately searching for some trace of The Beatles.
“They got to be here somewhere…” she muttered to herself as she looked around the music section of the library the twentieth time. “I just know it!”
Be it the music section, the history, or the cultural studies sections, she came out empty. Even when she went to every record and music shop in town, there wasn’t a single piece of evidence of their music. She turned towards the shop owners, musicians playing on the street, even her music teacher, but no matter who she went to, no one, it seemed, has any idea who the Changeling is talking about.
So, late at night, she turned to the one source of knowledge that she could go to. If there was someone who knew her obscure knowledge in every field, it was Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Headmare. Flying up to the crystalline doors, banging on them at a staccato pace until a very tired looking alicorn in a nightcap opened it.
“Ocellus?” Twilight asked, rubbing an eye and yawning. “It’s the middle of the night, what are you-”
“Do you honestly not know who The Beatles are?”
She shrugged. “Not really. Why?”
Ocellus’s jaw dropped. “Oh, Goddess… Then I’m in a really, really, really, really, really, really complicated situation.” Just as the Changeling was about to leave, she felt a tug on her tail, finding the Headmare’s magic was keeping her still.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, trying to wake up. “You’re shaking, has something bad happened?”
“I… I…” Ocellus let her hunches drop to the ground. “Headmare… I think I need help.”
“Well, come inside. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
In truth, Ocellus had never stepped inside the walls of her headmare’s castle before. While it’s right next door to the school, there were times that she wondered what it must be like inside. She half expected it to be a grandiose, fancy, covered top to bottom in gold and jewels that would make the Crystal Empire jealous. She thought that maybe she would find rows of servants and guards to tend her every whim around the clock.
However, when she stepped inside that, while impressive of the purple crystal walls with a tree motif and massive hallways, the Changeling was taken aback how bare it seemed. Even the humble kitchen wasn’t as big as she expected it to be. Although well stocked, it was much smaller, and she noticed that there weren’t any staff ever since she was invited in. While she sat near the wooden table in the middle of the room where overhead pots and pan were hanging over, Twilight insisted that she make them tea.
“Forgive me if I come off as rude,” Ocellus began, “but don’t you have anyone to do that for you?”
“What makes you say that?” Her Headmare asked once she stuck in the tea leaves into the pot and put it over the stove.
“I mean… you are a princess, and I just assumed that you would have a, uh… servant staff to do this for you.”
She tilted her head a little. “Don’t you know that I don’t have servants?”
“What about Spike?”
“He’s my assistant. I never once saw him as a servant. He’s like family to me.” She sat down next to her. “So, what’s going on with you? Why did you decide to wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“It’s uh… It’s hard to put it into words.”
“But try anyway. The first step to address whatever problem is to address it. Something has clearly gotten under your skin – so to speak – and is bothering you.”
Ocellus fiddled with her hooves, looking down and not looking at Twilight. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
“Why?”
“Because… something happened to me recently and I… I’ve no idea what to do. You remember when I asked you that question if you’ve heard of The Beatles?”
“That was a couple of minutes ago.”
She looked up. “Do you swear that you’ve never heard of any pop-rock group by that name?”
“Honestly? I thought you were referring to the bug, beetle.”
The Changeling sighed into her hooves. “It was like yesterday that everycreature has heard of them, knew the songs and were well respected. And now… I can’t find any trace that they existed. It’s like…” she looked up again, “for you, it’ll be the equivalent that when you wake up tomorrow morning, only to discover that nobody knows who Shakespur is. No one remembers the plays or his poetry, except for you. What exactly would you have done in something like that?”
“Oh…” Twilight tapped her chin. “Big question there. But I think what you’re saying is that you remember something that is culturally important, only no one else does.” Ocellus nodded. “Well… in theory, if I were in those horseshoes, and if I feel strongly that this is something worth sharing… I’d do what I can to preserve those ideas before they’re lost forever. I mean, with Shakespur alone, I can’t imagine a world without A Mid Summer’s Night Dream, or Roanio and Filliet, or even The Tempest. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to catch the genius of his writing style, but maybe I could bring back his stories.”
“Yeah, but music is different.” Ocellus said. “With music, it doesn’t work unless you know every note. With The Beatles, they’ve written about a hundred songs and I only know some of them.” She gasped, “Can I even remember the lyrics?! Uh…” she closed her eyes. At first, she tried to remember songs such as Come Together,Yellow Submarine, and even the song that Dawn Lemon wrote Imagine. Yet, regardless of how hard she tried to concentrate, the lyrics were muddied and mixed up. And Ocellus knew it. She banged her head on the table. “I’m forgetting! I can’t remember some of them!”
She felt a hoof on her back. “Ocellus, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “I’m the only one in the world that remembers their songs… but I can’t even do that! I remember the melodies and a hoofful of songs but that’s about it. And I can only play one among the hundreds they’ve made.” Lifting her head, tears were streaming down from them. “I can’t do this… W-What am I going to do?”
Twilight had to spend the next couple of minutes trying to calm her down. Soon enough, the tea was finished and after pouring a couple of cups and drying her tears. Eventually, the Princess asked her, “So… do you remember anything from them?”
Ocellus nodded, “Apart from Yesterday, I remember how some of the tunes go. I wish I could play them, except I don’t know much how to write music, or even…” She paused, looking into the reflection of her teacup, an idea dawned on her. “…. Unless…”
“What?”
“Suppose… The Beatles that I know were a popular band in the 60s, some of them were still alive. So, do you think that maybe… they could be still around. Headmare, even if I could remember every song, with every note and lyric, I don’t feel comfortable taking the credit for something that isn’t mine. I do feel that these songs shouldn’t be forgotten, but I don’t want my name attached to something that isn’t my work. This music needs to be put back where it belongs… but I can’t do this by myself.”
Twilight smiled. “I’m proud of you for taking up such a responsibility. However, I can’t help but think that if you can’t find them, would you still credit these songs as your own?”
“Like, if they don’t exist?” Twilight nodded. “I… I’m not sure. But I still need to find them, that is if they’re still alive. If there’s anyone in the whole world that could bring back what is stolen, it’s them.”
“But do you know what their names are? Even if this band exists, do you have an idea who they are or where they might be?”
She nodded, “All I know is that they came from Trottingham, and their names are Pull McCart, Dawn Lemon, Forge Hayson and Mango Star. They’re most likely be really old by now-”
“Mango Star?” Twilight blinked, “As in the comedian?”
Ocellus’s jaw dropped the second time that night. “Wait! You know him!?”
Twilight shrugged, “Not much really. When Spike and I were trying to return a library book, I remember seeing an old poster and when we got to the retirement place, I saw his face through a window. He’s most likely retired now.”
“Headmare, I need to go talk to him.”
“What?” She asked surprised, “Ocellus, you have school tomorrow-”
“If you have a chance to bring back Shakespur while he’s still around, would you?”
There was a pause between them. “You really believe in this?” She nodded. After a sigh, Twilight thought it over for a good solid minute. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “I will take you to that retirement center first thing in the morning to find your missing band. But in exchange, you will have to do your schoolwork and I will keep an eye to make sure that you do that work. Deal?”
She shook her hoof. “Deal.”
It took all morning to reach Silver Stable Community, and on the train over, Ocellus had spent her time looking through her homework and textbooks while Twilight was nearby. However, making westward towards the coast, they’ve finally reached the retirement place. They entered the main building towards the reception desk.
“Now I can’t guarantee that he might be here or if he’s available,” Twilight told her as they walked in. “However, I can promise that I will do what I can to see if Mango is open to talking to us.”
“And make sure you ask for the others,” Ocellus insisted.
“I doubt that they would be here, but I’ll try.” She said, stopping at a row of chairs were a few ponies sat there waiting. “Stay right here, I’m gonna go check. But if I don’t find anypony that’s connected to that group, we’re going straight back to Ponyville.” With that, Twilight turned and walked towards the reception desk.
The blue Changeling took a seat next to a pony. A long-maned stallion who held onto a cardboard box, waiting. This wouldn’t catch much of her interest was that this pony’s cutie mark was a guitar, and his face bears a resemblance to- “Can I help you?”
Ocellus was caught off guard, if not a bit embarrassed that she was staring. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just…”
“What?”
“You uh… reminded me of someone.”
“Oh?” He then took notice of Twilight talking to someone at the reception desk. “So, uh… You with the Princess?”
She nodded, “Yeah. We’re looking for someone. It’s… It’s really complicated, but we’re trying to find someone that used to be a musician and… I just really hope they’re around.”
“Yeah? Who are you trying to find, if you mind of me asking?”
“Chances are, you probably never heard of him. Someone name Mango Star.”
The stallion went quiet, “The Comedian?”
“I guess s-”
“Who used to be a drummer.”
Now it was Ocellus’s turn to be surprised. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m trying to get ahold of him myself.” He said, tapping the box. “My dad had used to be in a band, and he passed away some time ago. Recently I found this box that had some of his stuff and I thought that maybe I could at least give it to one dad’s friends.”
The Changeling went quiet for a solid minute, it became awkward to the point where he had to ask her if she’s okay. “Sir… what’s your name?” she finally asked.
“Hayson,” he replied. “Name’s Dandelion Hayson. I’m in a band myself and… seriously, are you okay?”
In truth, Ocellus was in a state of shock. “Oh, dear goddess… this is… I… c-could I shake your hoof?”
Dandelion blinked, “I guess so? I didn’t do anything special.”
“Actually, Mr. Hayson,” she said shaking his hoof, “your dad was one of the ponies I was looking for.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
She took a moment to think about her next words carefully. “It’s just… Let’s say that I might be one of the few that’s… aware of ponies like your dad. And I want to do what I can to uh… bring them to the limelight.”
Twilight returned to tell her that they could go ahead to meet Mango.
Twilight, Ocellus, and Dandelion were pointed towards a particular set of apartment complexes. Two-floor buildings in which resembled that of a motel and each door had a picture of the resident. Almost immediately, the young Changeling spotted which one Mango was in by one of the pictures. A big-nosed stallion with glasses, thin mustache, with a coat of red and yellow and a green mane.
Hesitation nearly made her unable to approach the door. However, Twilight beat her to it by knocking on the door. The Headmare looked over her shoulder. “You coming?”
Nodding, she hastily went up to the door nervously. While they waited and they can hear movement inside, Dandelion spoke up his observation. “Why are your legs shaking?” He asked the Changeling.
“It’s… c-complicated.”
The door suddenly opened briefly with someone saying: “I don’t accept butter toasts on Thursdays.” Before being closed. However, before it could do so, the door paused for a moment before being opened wide to the stallion in the picture. A slightly wrinkled face blinked a couple of times. “Hang on… Dandelion? What are you doin’ with a princess and a Changeling in blue?”
“Hey Mango,” Dandelion said, hugging him. “Long time no see.”
“That’s an understatement, haven’t seen you around since you a baby.”
Hayson snarked, “C’mon, you saw me last week.”
“And not give these two ladies the impression that I’m old? How rude.” He chuckled. “But come in! I was gonna put the kettle on.”
The three of them entered into the small apartment, Ocellus immediately took notice of a wall with photographs in them. She scanned in hopes to find something, anything that suggests what might have happened to The Beatles.
“You’re that other Princess, aren’t you?” Mango asked, slipping into the kitchen.
“You can just call me Twilight, sir.” She told him.
“It isn’t every day you get paid a visit by royalty. So how exactly do you know me?”
“Truthfully? I don’t, but my student seems to know what you used to do.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah Mango,” Dandelion told him, sitting on a couch. “Apparently she’s heard about when you were a drummer.”
“Seriously? That was ages ago.” He poked his head out, “Eh, miss? What’s your name again?”
The Changeling refocused on the old stallion. “Ocellus, sir.”
“O-cell-us…” He said slowly, letting the words move around in his mouth. “That sounds like the name of a medication for a sleep disorder.” He ducked his head back in. “So Ocellus, how did you hear about me?”
“Well… it’s kinda a long story. But… were you ever part of a band?”
“Yes. Back when I was young.” Mango told her as they heard cups being taken out and put down. “About… fifty or so years ago, I think. My, has it been that long already? Yeah, I used to be in a band. I was a drummer once. It was made of me and three other fellas in Trottingham back in the late fifties, early sixties. Ha… That used to be fun at first when we called ourselves Th-”
“The Beatles.”
The kitchen went very quiet for a minute. In that stillness, Twilight was about to go see what was happening. That was until Mango walked out, amazed. “How the blazes did you know that?”
“It’s… complicated.” She replied. “Look, the point is that I might be the only being in the world that’s aware of what you used to be. If I did try to tell you how exactly I know, you wouldn’t believe me. But all you need to know is that I knew you guys were once a band. Only… something happened. Something different.”
“Being cryptic, aren’t we?” Mango said. “You miss don’t look to be anywhere near as old as I am. But I am rather curious how you know the band name when everyone else has forgotten.”
“I just… I just do. Yeah, I know that’s not a good enough answer, but at the moment, it’s the best I got. So… I came all this way to ask you,” she walked forward towards him. “What happened to The Beatles?”
He let out a breath, in a tried sigh sort of way. “Golly… Never in me life have I ever thought that anyone would have been interested. Ponies back then certainly weren’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Mango returned to the kitchen as he explained. “Well… we did try. I’ll tell ya that. We really tried hard going to gigs just ta get noticed. Sure, Pull and Dawn wrote up some new songs and the four of us pulled together what we had into band competitions or just tryin’ ta get a record deal from someone. But… no luck. We tried, and tried, but by… I want to say… ’64, things got so bad, morale so low, and Pull and Dawn got so frustrated with everything and each other… We just couldn’t do it anymore. We quit. The band fell apart and we went our own ways just ta get by.
“Not to say that we didn’t at least try ta keep in touch now and then. Pull got married and Forge had a son. Dawn took up painting in watercolors last I heard. Once in a blue moon, we’d run into each other somehow ta see how the other is doin’. As for me, I became a stand-up comedian, got married, had a son that, I heard last that he’s getting a job as a drummer for a band soon. Of course, now and then I also run into the kids as well. Oh! That reminds me, Dandelion, what do you got in that box of yours?”
“Oh! Right!” Hayson said. “I just found this when I was going through dad’s old room. And I found some stuff that I felt that should be for you guys to keep.”
“What is it?” Ocellus inquired.
The stallion sitting on the couch opened up the lid. “There’s just some pictures and sheet music. Some of which I remembered he used to sing to me when I was having a bad day.”
“Oh, that’s rather nice of…” her eyes widen. “Sheet music?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think he wrote this stuff after he broke up with his band.”
“Let me see those!” The Changeling rushed over to peek her head inside the box. But before she could touch it, however, she found her hoof frozen in her Headmare’s aura.
“Ocellus! You don’t just grab things that aren’t yours.”
“Besides,” Dandelion said getting up. “I’m giving this to one of my dad’s friends.”
“So why me?” Mango asked.
“Well, I can’t find Pull or Dawn, knowing that those two tend to go everywhere. Plus, out of the three of them, I know where you are most of the time.” He trotted into the kitchen in which Ocellus followed. “So here, I think this stuff should be yours.”
After Mango put the kettle off when it started to whistle, he took ahold of the box to set it on the counter and looked inside. “Hey! I remember these.” He said, pulling out a few black-and-white photographs. “I remember when we started on the village green when somepony took this. Oh! And this one,” the Changeling saw this picture where it showed a younger Mango at the drums in which had the words “The Beatles” on them. “This was after Dawn came up with the name.”
“So why Beatle?” Twilight asked walking into the kitchen and seeing the photo.
“That was Dawn’s idea. When we got started, ponies asked us what we were called. So he said Beatle. After all, it was only a name like shoe.” He chuckled. “Yes, we could have been called ‘The Shoes,’ for all you know. And… oh hey!” He pulled sheet music. “These were the songs we did!”
“Can I see?” Ocellus pleaded, looking over the older stallion’s shoulder. “‘From Me To You,’ ‘She Loves You,’ ‘I Saw Her Standing There,’ ‘Love Me Do,’ ‘Please Please Me,’ ‘P.S. I Love You,’ ‘I Want to Hold Your Hoof,’ ‘I Feel Fine,’ ‘There’s a Place,’” she gasped, “‘Twist and Shout!’ That one is one of my favorites!”
“You sure you’re a young lady?” Mango jabbed. “Then you must be ancient to have heard some of these like… wait…” He pulled up some other sheet music. “I don’t remember playing any of these.”
“That’s my dad’s,” Hayson told him. “If anything, those songs he wrote them for me when I was growing up.”
The Changeling took hold of the sheet music and read off the titles. “‘Something…’ ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ ‘If I Need Someone,’ and… ‘Here Comes the Sun!’ This is amazing! They’re still here!”
Mango took a step back and spoke over to Twilight, “Princess, I think this one needs some psychotherapy.”
“So, hold on!” Ocellus turned to the ye old Beatle, “Does this mean that Pull and Dawn still wrote song-”
“Oh goodness no! Those two gave up on music a long time ago. Plus, I’m pretty sure those two hadn’t spoken to one another in years.”
“And you two sure you don’t know where they are?”
Dandelion shrugged, “Do you think I would be here if I did?”
“And don’t look at me,” Mango said, “I don’t keep track where those two headed off. Dawn alone, he could be anywhere by now.”
“So…” Ocelles’s ears folded back, “I take it there’s no hope of bringing the band back together?”
Mango shook his head. “Filly, I hadn’t touched the drums since the sixties. I’m far too out of practice myself. None of us, except for Forge had picked up an instrument after the incident. If you’re trying to do what I think you’re trying to do, I’m sorry to tell ya that it’s not gonna work.”
“But… But this can’t happen!” The Changeling pleaded. “Your guy’s music is somehow been criminally underrated and taken for granted. I can’t stand by and let something like Yesterday fade into nothing.”
“Yesterday?” Dandelion asked. “What’s that?”
She waved a hoof, “It’s a song I know that Pull and Dawn wrote… or probably didn’t now.”
“How does it go?” Mango asked.
Ocellus said that it would be best to play it, but she didn’t bring her guitar. Twilight suggested of going towards the music center where she remembered that there were instruments there. However, Mango suggested that if she remembered how it went, then she could just simply sing it. So, slumping in a chair, her eyes closed and forehooves over her eyes, took in some calming breaths while the old Beatle was starting to pour the hot water into cups.
Then, she began to sing one of the few songs she had memoried. Of how all her troubles were once someplace else but now, she was stuck with them.
In the middle of singing acapella, she noticed how quiet the room had gotten. Looking up, she gasped as she saw tears running down Mango’s cheek. “Oh Goddesses! I’m sorry! Did I overstep something?”
He sniffed as he wiped away the tears. “No… That was quite something… and something that Pull and Dawn would have written that… It just brought memories is all. I never heard of it before, but I must say, if there’s anypony I know that would have written something like that, it would have been them.” Then as he put the tea bags into the cups, his eyes widen. “You know, why not you sing them?”
“Say what?”
“Those songs. You have a sweet-sounding voice there.”
“B-But I can’t!”
“Why not?” Hayson said. “Whatever that was, it was good. Like… really good. If that was just one song, I’m curious to see how you’d do with the others in that box.”
“I-I don’t…” Ocellus shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, these songs are still yours and-”
“Here, how about this?” Mango said carrying the tray over. “If Dandelion over here says that you can sing these songs, then you’d have my permission too. The band may have lost faith in these songs, but you haven’t. If you really believe that these songs deserve a second chance, then, why stop you?”
“And I will help you,” Twilight said. “Just as long as you promise to work on your classes, and to give credit to who compose these songs, then I will lend a hoof to bring a song like what you just sang into public consciousness.”
All of them turned to Dandelion. He took a moment to consider, “You know what… If dad were around, I think he would let you sing his songs too. But of course, the only thing that I ask is don’t steal these as your own.”
Ocellus sighed as Mango gave her cup. “It’s… It’s such a big responsibility. I don’t know if I could pull something like this off but… You’re right Mr. Star, I do have faith in these songs. If I’m lucky, maybe I could find Pull and Dawn too so they could help me put back what was stolen. But for now, I only promise to try.”
From the way back of the retirement community, Ocellus was plotting. It was no secret of how massive such an undertaking was. After all, she may very well be the last person in the world to know who The Beatles were, but she was still a student – and a young one at that. She had begun her musical training, and now she was tasked to bring the music of one of the most influential bands of all time back to public consciousness. The only question she had on her mind was how to do it? How would she, a young Changeling, bring their music back? Especially when she doesn’t have all the music?
After speaking to her Headmare, Twilight did agree that this was indeed a monumental task but suggested that perhaps she should start off small. She recommended that first, she must at least try to master the songs she was given, and suggested to have her music teacher, Octavia to help her out. “If you could learn maybe four or so songs,” she told her, “then in a school dance, you could sing them. I could organize a dance to give you the excuse to shine.”
Ocellus thought it was a good idea.
So, for the next serval weeks right after school, Ocellus went straight to Octavia’s home to rehearse a few of these songs. If anything, her teacher was rather surprised that one of her students wanted to learn some forgotten songs from the ’60s, especially when she read a few of the sheet music that she wasn’t that impressed with it. However, Ocellus did change her mind when she sang Yesterday to her and said that she hoped she could help her developed the song with a string orchestra one day. It more or less sealed the deal.
Not to say that her frequent visit to her music teacher didn’t go unnoticed. One night after practice, Ocellus walked into the student lounge, guitar on her back in which she was confronted by her friends playing cards.
“Well,” Smolder said, folding her cards, “look who’s finally decided to grace her presence.”
“Huh?”
“Did you forget?” Gallus asked without looking up. “Tonight is game night and you promised you’d be here an hour ago.”
Ocellus gasped, “Oh! Is it past seven already?”
“So, where’ve you been off to?” Silverstream asked. “This past two weeks you’ve kept disappearing on us. What’s going on?”
Blushing at realizing how neglectful she’s been, she set her guitar down. “I’m really sorry guys, I’ve got so caught up that I forgot.”
“What Ocellus been doing?” Yona inquired.
“You see, I wanted to keep this a surprise but… I’m gonna be playing for the school dance coming up.”
Now, this caught her friend’s attention. “Really?” Sandbar asked.
She nodded. “Yeah… It’s a long… complicated story, but to put it short, I’ve found some old songs and decided to sing them. I talked with Headmare Twilight and she said that she’d lend a hoof to give me a stage to do just that. Lately, I’ve been going to my music teacher more often to not just practice, but her roommate is helping me record some karaoke versions of what I’m gonna be playing so all I need to do is play my guitar and sing the melody.”
“That sounds cool!” Silverstream said. “So, you’re committing these songs to memory?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Okay,” Smolder folded her arms, “if that’s true, you mind singing one?”
Ocellus blinked. “What? Right here? Now?”
“Why not? If you’re really are gonna be singing for the upcoming dance, I want to see if you could do it.”
She told her that she could. So, picking up her guitar and sitting on her haunches, she strung a few cords. “Okay… This is an old song, written by Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. It’s called, Please Please Me.”
Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and her friends were waiting for her to see what exactly she was practicing for. In her mind, she pictured a metronome so that she could be on the beat, and aloud, she counted.
It was a love song, one where she asked of her girl to please her as she did. A simple song with simple lyrics, and yet, she sang with much love as the song was.
When her playing comes to an end, she heard the sound of applause from her friends. Opening her eyes, she spotted Smolder nodding.
“Not bad.” She told her, “It’s okay as far as songs go, but still, it’s not bad.”
“Kinda sounds old,” Sandbar pointed out, “where did you dig this up?”
“It’s a long story, but for now,” she yawned. “I know that I’m supposed to hang out with you guys, but I’m feeling rather tired right now. I’d like to go to bed here.”
Although she could sense their disappointment, they let her go to her room so she could get some sleep.
“You got to admit,” Silverstream said, “that was pretty good.”
“Maybe,” Sandbar shrugged. “I still prefer The Who better. But I can hear that she has put a good deal of effort into that.”
“Yona thinks we should go to dance.” Their Yak friend suggested. “Ocellus clearly worked hard on song, maybe Yona’s friends should go to cheer her on.”
Gallus raised an eyebrow, “Is no creature gonna bring up the elephant in the room?” Off of them looked at him.
“What are you talking about?” Smolder asked.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t listen to music very often,” he observed, “but you ever noticed that whenever a male singer does a love song that it’s meant towards someone who’s female and vice-versa?”
“Where are you going with this?” Sandbar questioned.
“All I’m saying, that is no one questioning why Ocellus is singing a love song that’s clearly meant for someone who’s female?”
Now the student lounge went quiet for a good solid minute.
“Are you suggesting-?” Smolder asked but Gallus interrupted.
“I’m not. For all I know, maybe she’s singing the original song word for word. But I’m just saying that it’s interesting for her to sing a love song to, as she puts it, ‘my girl.’” He turned back to his cards. “Food for thought.”
Ocellus took in a deep breath. Guitar in her hooves, she peeked behind a column towards the stage where everything she needed was there. A simple raised stage with speakers, a few buttons for her to step on to play the songs, and a microphone. In front of it was the students and teachers chatting and waiting for someone to play. Slinking back out of sight, the Changeling took in some deep breaths to calm and steady herself.
“You doing okay there, Ocellus?” She looked up at the Dragoness who just walked up to her.
“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Yep. Just nerves is all.”
Smolder raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for this? It’s no secret to me that this is probably the first time you’re doing this in front of a crowd.”
“I’ve noticed…”
There was a pause between them.
“You know you don’t have to.” She told her. “Twilight, as far as I know, has a backup with Spike so if you can’t go through with it, I get it.”
“No.” Ocellus shook her head. “I have to do this.”
“Why?” Her friend tilted her head. “Look, it’s not that I don’t think you’ll do well – heck, even I’ve noticed how much you’ve gotten better at playing that guitar – it’s just… I don’t want to have any of my friends be forced into doing something they don’t want to. Ya know?”
She sighed, “Smolder… I can sense your concern for me. And I do get it. However, what I’m about to do… is bigger than me (as pretentious as that sounds). I don’t expect any of you to get it, but I do feel that these songs are important.”
“Even though they’re kinda… old fashion?” her friend questioned. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re not bad by any means. Just that it seems a little odd that you’re playing something that would easily fit a good fifty or so years ago.”
Ocellus nodded. “Yeah… even I admit that these fit in a different time. But I’ve heard once that the thing about good music is that they will never, ever age. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if anyone out there will remember the tunes after I played, but I cannot at least try to give these songs a second chance.”
Smolder hesitated for a moment, trying to think of what to say. However, she ended up putting a claw on her friend’s shoulder. “Then you know what? I’d say give it a shot. You’ve come this far and gotten this good, might as well give it a try.”
“Thanks, Smolder.” She said, smiling.
“Okay then,” the two of them turned to find Spike approaching. “It’s all set and ready to go, Ocellus. So before you do this, I’m gonna go up there and introduce you. And since you’re basically starting out as a one-mare band, do you want to go by a different name for tonight?”
After thinking about it for a moment, Ocellus smiled up at him. “Could you call me, The Beatle?”
“I… guess so?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Why Beatle? That isn’t offensive to Changelings, is it?”
She shrugged, “Not the last time I’ve checked.”
“Okay…”
“Oh! And before you go up, do you remember who wrote these songs?”
He nodded, “Yeah. Never heard of them but I got their names right here,” he pointed at his head. Before he went to introduce her, he asked her if there was anything else and Ocellus told him to go ahead.
Spike said before flying up to the mic on stage. “Good evening everycreature! Are you ready to get this party started!” The school cheered. “Tonight’s music is about to be performed by one of the students here at the School of Friendship! The first time she’s performing with songs by Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, give a round of applause for… The Beatle!”
Ocellus breathed in deeply. “Wish me luck.”
Smolder patted her shoulder. “You really believe in these songs?” She asked and the Changeling nodded. “You’ll do good. Now go out and knock ‘em out. Literally, if you have to!”
This got a nervous chuckle out of her as she opened up her wings and flew over to the stage. Standing in front of the microphone with spotlights on her and before the eyes of a good chunk of the school, she steadied herself. Waiting for her to do something and that if she did something wrong, then all those hours and days practicing saving those songs would have gone to waste. ‘Goddesses, is this what it was like for them?’ She wondered, clearing her throat, she spoke into the microphone. “H-Hi everyone. How are all of you d-doing?”
There was a polite applause, if not muted.
“Okay, let’s get started, shall we?” She asked, strumming her guitar once. “How about we start this off on a f-fun note? This first one is called ‘S-She Loves You.’” Despite the awkwardness, she looked upon the waiting crowd and spotted her friends near the back. She saw Sandbar and Yona waving at her. Silverstream and Smolder smiling, giving her the thumbs up while Gallus leaned back with a cocked eyebrow.
Taking in a deep breath, she looked down at the buttons at her hooves and pressed the first one on her left. With the speakers started to play drums, she began to sing with a joyful voice.
What came out of her mouth started relaxed at first, a love song that tells the audience that the crush does love them back. Before she was even finished, her confidence grew when she saw students at first nodding, tapping their hooves to the beat before starting to sway side to side. She saw a sea of smiles, that despite how old fashion the song may sound, the students there were beginning to fall in love with it. Even among her friends in the back, they started to dance before she reached the final chorus. Maybe, these songs did have a second chance after all.
Outside of the school, a tired stallion with a briefcase dragged his tried hooves across the ground. It was late and given how tired he was, he reasoned that it’s best to find some local inn to retire for the night. After all, it’s not best to go door to door to try to pitch a sell at this hour. Given how exhausted the train ride to Ponyville was, he wouldn’t pay any attention to the school he was passing by if it weren’t for something that caught his ear.
He paused, his ears perked up as, apart from the crying applause, there was a familiar sound. Too familiar. It was the sound of a drum set, a bass, two guitars, and one voice singing above it.
Turning his head towards the school to where there was a dance going on through the open doors, the sale’s pony approached it as a passionate, joyful song projected out into the night. He came into the light, a blue stallion with a messy dark blue mane and a face full of wrinkles. Through the front doors of the school, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.
It was not just the Changeling on stage, nor the students who were dancing to the tune. Nor was it because of how old fashion the song was given its style. What shocked him, however, was the song itself. It was a song that was from long ago. A song he knew. A song, he co-wrote.
“That… That’s me song…” he muttered; jaw dropped. “That’s me bloody song…”
He watched as Ocellus played her heart out on stage, singing into the mic. Every lyric, every note, down to the key change in tone and rhythm was familiar. Even though he hadn’t sung it in years, he knew the song as a father would recognize their own child. Especially when she sang into the microphone "I wanna hold your hoof!"
On stage, Ocellus finished up playing the song with a happy shout of, “Thank you everycreature! Goodnight!” Much to the roaring applause as she exited flying off to where her friend was at.
“That was amazing!” Sandbar said. “I didn’t know you had that in you!”
“That was so scary,” Ocellus said with a smile on her face, “but so exciting, I mean, wow! What a rush!”
“What did I tell ya?” Smolder told her. “You did good up there.”
While the Changeling was being given compliments from her friends, she failed to notice the old sale’s pony entering into the hall and going towards her. She wasn’t calmed down from her rush on stage until she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She looked over.
She froze.
“Young lady,” the stallion said, “where did you learn that song?”
Her jaw dropped.
“P-Pull McCart!?”
He leaned in closer, a frown on his face.
“I asked you a question.” He said in a serious tone, “Where, did you learn to play that song?”
“So, Forge wrote our songs down after all?” Pull McCart asked.
Ocellus nodded. “Y-Yes, sir.” Never in the Changeling’s life would she have a private chat with someone that she considered to be a genius. Out in the school’s courtyard on a bench, with the lights from the windows and the moon overhead to illuminate them, the Changeling pulled the old sale’s pony aside so that she could at least explain a few things.
“Mango and Forge’s son gave you permission to sing them?”
She nodded again. “Headmare Twilight saw it and can confirm this. Honestly, Mr. McCart, I never mean any disrespe-”
“Honestly,” he interrupted, “I’m just… surprised is all.”
There was a pause between them.
“So…” Ocellus began. “Are you… mad at me?”
“Huh? What- no… No, I’m not angry. Just… Well… I’m a bit shocked is all. That all that work we did when we were young was such a waste… and yet… here I am years later ta hear cheers – actual cheers from strangers at a dance. And there you are, singin’ your heart out… Songs that I nearly forgot about and yet…” He shook his head.
“Well…” Ocellus twiddled her hooves, not looking at him in the eye. “To tell you the truth, sir… I uh… I’m a fan of yours.”
“Are you now?” He raised an eyebrow.
She nodded. “Well, you and Dawn, and Forge, and Mango… I might be the only one in the world that has any idea what kind of talent and genius you guys had that…” her kind words faded when her ears perked up. Pull was laughing. “Sir?”
“I’m sorry, young lady.” He said between chuckles. “It’s just… that idea that any of us had talent is…” he laughed harder. By the time he caught his breath to look over at the Changeling’s direction, he saw an expression of shock, devastation even. His face softens. “Look, it’s sweet of you to say that… but it’s not true at all. When we started out, none of us were geniuses. We barely knew how to play any music, let alone write anything down! Our band back in the day had its run and it didn’t turn out well. Mis, we’ve moved on. I’ve moved on. Music is one thing, but I’ve learned that you still got to support yerself. Now I have a wife, a little family that’s depending on me with these sales.”
“T-That’s not true.” Ocellus shook her head. “Mr. McCart, I don’t know what happened, but you don’t understand what this music means to someone like me. The songs that I know… it changed the world. It changed how music seen. The stuff you and Dawn wrote, is on par with Moztrot and Buch! They were creative, invited, fun, sophisticated, all at the same time! And…” She looked at his face. He wasn’t buying it.
“Lady,” he said, “I know you’re young, but take it from on old geezer like me when I tell you this: music is nice… but it can’t change the world. We tried. It didn’t work. I’m sorry I have to tell you, but this isn’t going to go anywhere. No amount of composing or lyrics could change what has already been done. Call me jaded, but I doubt that a pretty song could change this one’s mind.” Getting up and picking his briefcase with him, he bid her goodbye.
“No! Wait! I still need you!” Ocellus begged as McCart started to walk out. She had to figure out something to change his mind and fast, some way to prevent those brilliant songs from disappearing forever. In that panic, as she watched the old stallion walking towards the exit, she combed through her mind of what knowledge she had on the Beatles for something… anything to convince him otherwise.
Then, her eyes widen as a song came into mind. She began to sing, a song that made McCart froze. One in which made him turned around, his jaw dropped as she continued with the next verse of what few songs she knew by heart. One in which the end of each lyric ended with "Let it be."
The old sales pony dropped his briefcase. Ocellus saw in the Beatle’s eyes, tears forming. Gasping, she blurted out, “Pull! I-I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and-”
“That was beautiful.” Pull sniffed. “I never heard anything so…” he shook his head, “now who wrote that?”
A part of Ocellus wanted for her to scream “You did!” but considering the circumstance, she responded. “Well… it’s complicated to explain but… it was inspired by you.”
“Me?” He blinked, “Sorry, but I don’t follow. That tune back there, that was inspired by me?”
She nodded. “Forgive me for about to say something personal, but that song, it was inspired from when something tragic happened to you.”
He stared at her, “So you just made that up on the spot?”
“No… Let’s just say that I have a funny kind of memory. Like having memories that might have been from another universe. Where I know it happened but for some reason didn’t.”
“Yeah? And what do you remember?”
“That uh… this is gonna sound crazy but… I remember that you wrote that song.” Pull didn’t reply for a long time. “I remembered that my friend said that in an interview you did, what inspired you to write that song, ‘Let it Be,’ came about from a difficult moment in your life. After your… mom… died. You were grieving and one night, you had a dream that she came to you.”
“Telling me the same thing she always did in life,” Pull said, “She told me, ‘Pull, let it be.’” He nodded. “Yes, I remember that part, but I certainly don’t recall writing a song about that. However, it’s very beautiful. Very… personal.”
She nodded, “I know, and I’m sorry.”
“No no, it’s alright.” He said, “I’ve grieved long enough for mom. It’s strange, really, that tune, in how it flows and the lyrics… that’s the kind of song that I would have wrote if I had talent.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Ocellus exclaimed, “You have talent! You and Dawn both!”
Pull frowned. “Me and that airhead? Now that I find it hard to believe.”
“Please listen to me. I know that to you, none of this makes any sense at all. Heck, if I were in your horseshoes, I wouldn’t believe a word of it. But I’m facing a difficult problem that… I can’t do this by myself. I can only recall melodies and a few lyrics here and there, but that’s it. These songs… they’re some of the most powerful songs ever written and yet, they’re nearly gone. If there’s anyone out there that could bring back what was stolen from culture in general… it’s you and Dawn.”
“Lady, what are you trying to ask me?”
Ocellus scratched the back of her head. “Well… to piece these songs back together, I guess.”
Pull shook his head. “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking. I haven’t picked up an instrument since the 60s. You’re asking me to do something I’ve forgotten how to do. I’m not a musician. I’m not a songwriter. I’m just a sales pony from Trottingham. A-And even if I could, it still would be impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because, if you want to get Dawn involved… Filly, we haven’t spoken to each other in decades. Even if I wanted to get the band back together, I don’t have a clue where he’s gone off to.”
Ocellus squeezes her eyes tight. “Mr. McCart… I’m not asking to bring the band back together. All I’m asking is some help.”
The older stallion raised an eyebrow. “So why are you doing this?” He questioned. “What’s in it for you anyway? You’re obviously trying to gain something out of me.”
The young Changeling hesitated for a long time. Before McCart’s patience ran out, she replied. “I don’t want to take credit for something that isn’t mine.” She told him. “In fact, tonight at the dance, do you know what the very first thing I did? I told my whole school that I will be playing songs that were written by you and Dawn Lemon. And do you know why? I don’t care if the songs I sing make a single bit. I’m doing this because I feel strongly that the songs you two created are important in the grand scheme of things. These are songs that changed lives, saved lives, gave inspiration, hope, wonder, comfort, and a dream that the world can get better. Now that somehow those songs were never written or sang… a world without the music of The Beatles is not much of a world that’s worth living in.”
“…. You really believe in all that?” Ocellus nodded. Scratching his head, he replied: “That… That’s the first time I’ve heard anyone that believed that the band could amount to something. Still,” he said, picking up his briefcase and opening it up to look through some papers, “even if I could help, I don’t know how much use I would be. Not to mention that I still have a job to do. Going to door to door and all…” He paused. “Oh, you have got to be joking.”
“What?”
McCart didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” Ocellus asked again.
He frowned. “He lives here.”
“What?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “Either they have the same name and age, or Dawn has finally found a place to live.”
“What!”
“Yeah, here in town apparently.” He put the papers back in his briefcase. “At least I know one particular address to avoid.”
“Waitwaitwaitwait!” Ocellus galloped over till she was in front of him. “Are you telling me that Dawn Lemon, thee Dawn Lemon, lives right here in Ponyville!?”
“I hope not.” He said, walking around her. “At best, I better find a hotel to rest for the-”
Ocellus was right in front of his face.
“What does he live?”
He blinked. “What? Now? At this hour?”
“Yes.” She said, narrowing her eyes.
Pull frowned. “Filly, I appreciate you being a fan and your compliments to our music, but right now it’s late and I need to get some…” in a flash of green fire, a titanic bear with a look that threatened to rip his head off stood before him.
“Where… Does… He… Live…?” She asked through her sharp, pointy teeth.
He gulped. “Well… when you put it like that…” he thumbed to open his briefcase and pull out the list of addresses. “1940 Apple Road.”
“That’s on the other side of town.” Ocellus said to herself as she picked the sales pony by her bear claws. “You are coming with me. I don’t care what happened in the past between you two, you are going to go up there, and at the very least find some way to tolerate each other so you two could help me out. Got it?”
“Ah great,” Pull moaned, “I’m dealing with a mental case.”
There was a series of knocks that had woken up the old green stallion. Noticing that it was still dark outside, he turned on a lamp near the nightstand, putting on his rounded glasses to see what time it was. 1:45 in the morning. Scratching his brown, messy beard, he sat up after another round of knocks, he wondered who would want him at this time of night.
Slumping over to put on his house robe and slippers, he walked out of his bedroom, past the rows of unfinished paintings and buckets of paint towards the front door. There were more knocks, quicker and more desperate than before.
“I think I’d heard ya the first time!” He called out. “Just hold on there.” Unlocking the bolts on his door, he swings it open to a very large bare in front of him, along with a pony fling about in its gigantic paw. He blinked. And once again when the bare erupted into green flames that a blue Changeling took its place and allowing the other stallion to fall into the mud of a tulip garden.
“Uh…” He blinked. “What just happened?”
The Changeling lowered herself down onto the front steps of his house. “A-Are you…” She struggled to say. “D-Dawn?”
“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow.
“As in… Dawn Lemon?”
“That’s right.” He tilted his head. “Who are you? What do you want at this time of night?”
At first, Ocellus was at loss for words. But luckily, she was reminded when Pull was getting himself out of the mud. “I uh… I brought you somepony.” She said. “That has something important to say.”
Dawn was confused at first as his attention was turned to the other pony. Turning on a porch light, he tried to get a good look at the stranger covered in mud. He blinked. “Is that…? Pull?”
“Hey, Dawn.” Pull said flatly.
There was silence between them.
“What in blazes happened to you?”
“I turned into an alicorn.” Pull deadpanned. “No, I was minding my own business when this nutcase,” he pointed at Ocellus, “somehow found out that we were in a band, turned into a bear, dragged me all the way here so we could talk or some rubbish.” Ocellus coughed loudly; he rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine!” He got up, look at Dawn in the eye and said, “Dawn… I…”
He hesitated, for a long moment, Pull was silent while his old friend waited.
“What?” Dawn asked. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s almost two in the morning and I’d preferred to go to bed. Unless you have something worth saying, I’d prefer you to leave.” The mud-covered stallion stayed silent. “That’s what I thought.” Before Ocellus could do anything, before Dawn could retreat into his house to lock up his door and go to bed, he froze when he heard a phrase from Pull.
“I’m sorry.”
There was a pause between them.
“What did you say?” Dawn inquired.
Getting out of the mud, Pull walked onto his doorstep. “Dawn… I don’t expect you to forgive me. After what I said to you blokes… I probably wouldn’t be so quick to forgive either. But at the same time, what I said was unfair, to you especially. Now I’m not asking you to be friends again, I’m not asking for you to forgive and forget what I said. I suppose I’ve been given this chance to at least say that I’m sorry.”
Dawn adjusted his glasses. “You’re… you’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “The thing is… I still remember how good friends we were. And I still remember how… sour of a note we left things off. Of course, we were stressed, and things had gone bad, but now with time to cool down… I had no excuse for saying those things. It wasn’t fair to you or the others. You can still hate me all you want after tonight, but at least let me try to say I’m sorry.”
Hearing this put Dawn in disbelief. “Hate you? Pull, what gave you that idea?”
“I thought that after what I said-”
“I was hurt.” He told him. “Believe me, we all were. I especially, when you told to my face that I had no talent.”
Pull’s guilty ears folded flatly against his skull.
“To be honest,” he said further, “I didn’t think that years later you’d come to my front door in the middle of the night to say you’re sorry. I mean…” Dawn shook his head. “Fifty years, Pull! I haven’t heard a word from you in fifty years! I thought you’d never changed and yet… Why now? What changed?”
Pull pointed to Ocellus. “She did.”
“Oh, right…” Dawn coughed, “Sorry, what was your name again?”
“Ocellus, sir.” She replied. “If it’s not too much to ask, may we come in for a minute?”
The old stallion sighed. “Fine… Pull, there’s a bathroom down the hall to the left. You miss, come to the kitchen so I could fix some tea.”
Ocellus followed them into the house where Pull went to the bathroom to clean himself up. As she followed Dawn into a small kitchen, she couldn’t help but notice the paintings and art supplies lying about. Then, walking into the kitchen and respectively sitting down at a dining table while the stallion picked up a kettle, she saw an old picture of the band – smiling.
“You know,” Dawn said, filling up the kettle. “Out of all the things that I’d expect of moving to this town, I didn’t think I would run into him again. Or apologizing, no less.”
She didn’t reply.
“But he said you knew we were in a band, is that right?” She nodded. “Maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve seen a Changeling up close but, if you don’t mind of me askin’, how old are you?”
“I’ll be turning fifteen soon, sir.”
He waved a hoof. “Don’t call me sir, makes me older than I’m already am.” He said, putting the kettle on the stove and turning on the heat. “But how did you know we were in a band? That was years and years ago.”
“It’s… pretty complicated. But let’s just say that I have a… unique memory.”
“Oh?”
“As in… from another universe kind of memory.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know it’s crazy, but it’s the honest truth. If anything… I was hoping that I would get both you’re and Pull’s help.”
“In what?” He asked, getting out a few mugs and teabags. “If you’re expecting us to get the band back together, I don’t think that’s-”
“I’m not asking that. If anything, I was hoping that maybe you guys could help me bring back what was lost.”
Dawn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”
Ocellus sighed. “I only remember bits and pieces of songs. Masterpieces that each day I’m slowly forgetting. And the worst part is, there’s no one I could turn to help me except, maybe you guys. There are songs that are important, songs that are timeless, but these are songs that aren’t mine. All I’m asking is to help me piece these songs back together before they’re lost.”
Dawn shook his head. “Filly… You’re asking us to do something we’ve forgotten how to do.” He sat the mugs down. “I haven’t picked up a guitar in years. I’ve been so focused on being an artist that I have forgotten how to be a musician. And even if we could, what makes you think we’d be of any help?”
“Because you started out…” Ocellus said but trailed off.
The old stallion adjusted his glasses. “What?”
“I uh… remember how I said that I have a unique memory? Well, I recalled reading somewhere that with the band you and Pull started, you didn’t know what you were doing either.”
Dawn paused. “Yes… Yes, that’s right. And?”
“Well… You guys just learned as you go. I figured that maybe if I could help you learn how to play again, maybe you could help me in remembering how the songs go.”
“Songs like what?”
“Well… I do know one song that’s supposed to be yours. Only, I can remember half of it.”
“Really? What’s it called?”
“Imagine.” She answered. “It was one of the last songs you wrote before you…” Ocellus stopped; icy dread knifed her in the chest before she could finish her sentence.
“Before I what?” Dawn questioned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ocellus quickly shook her head. “Do you want me to sing what I know?”
He told her to go ahead while he prepared the tea. Gulping, she closed her eyes and began to sing. As nervous as her voice was shaky, she bid the very artist who made it, to imagine no afterlife, where all creatures live for the moment, that there are no countries worth dying for in wars, but instead to live peacefully. However, she only got so far with her memory with the short chorus: “Ugh, I can’t remember the rest.” She told him. “I know there’s more, but I can’t remember how it-”
“A dreamer.” Ocellus quickly opened her eyes at Dawn, with a sober, solemn expression. “If I could write something like that, I would say that I’m a dreamer. I guess it would only make sense that all my life, I’ve been doing just that. Dreaming for a better world that might never come.”
“To be fair,” the two of them suddenly looked over to a somewhat cleaner Pull who walked in. “That does sound like something you would have made back in the day.” Pulling up a seat next to Ocellus, he asked his friend, “So Dawn… How have you been getting on?”
He yawned. “I’ve lived happily.”
“Oh… and how successful are you?”
“I just said I was happy.” Dawn told him, “I figured that counts as successful. Having a profession that I love to do.”
“You’re an artist?” Ocellus asked, looking back that he paintings in the other room.
“Well, going back to art school helped a little,” he said, “especially after the band broke up. I drifted here and there, trying to find myself. Did paints here, gone to protests there, fell in and out of love with all its complications. But in the end… I found peace. A quiet life to sit down to and pick up a brush. What about you?”
“A sales pony,” he told him, “I’ve gotten married, had a few kids, and doing what I can just to get by.”
“Oh… I see…” Soon enough, the water in the kettle started to steam, and Dawn began to serve the tea to each of them.
For a while, they sat in silence, sipping the hot beverage before Pull spoke up. “So… Ocellus, what exactly do you want us to do? Since we haven’t picked up a guitar in decades and all.”
“Maybe… Maybe I can have my music teacher well… teach you both again. And from there, help me piece together these songs I remember.”
“Songs we’ve never heard of before?” Dawn questioned.
Ocellus shook her head. “No, songs that, as I recalled, you and Pull wrote together. Lyrics and everything. I can only remember bits and pieces. Maybe… Somehow, we could not only bring them back but who knows… make them… better?”
“Suppose we could,” Pull asked, “let’s pretend that we, old geezers who never had a music lesson in our lives, could do just that. Suppose that we could write songs out of those bits and pieces. What’s in it for us? We still have families to support, lives to live, and jobs to go to. Even if we could, why do it?”
“He’s got a point,” Dawn said, sipping his cup. “For me, as much as I love being an artist, even I still have to struggle just to get by too.”
Ocellus sighed into her hooves and thought it over for a moment until she got an idea. “Okay, give me your hooves.” Confused, they did so, and the young Changeling took them into her own. Looking them in the eye she said. “On my honor, my parents, my friends, and my King, I hereby swear to both of you, as well as to Mango and Forge’s son, that when I sing these songs and earn any money because if it, that every bit I earned will be shared to the four of you. I swear that I will not be owned a single bit of money for any future concerts, performances, or anything else that is tied to any of you. And I swear further, that whenever I play your songs, I will give credit where credit is due and say that they are only covers of your songs.”
The old Beatles looked at one another before returning to Ocellus. “You’re being serious now?” Pull asked and she nodded. “I mean, you said you’re a student, aren’t you? That isn’t something that comes chea-”
“I can take care of myself.” She told him. “When I said that I want to do everything in my power to bring the music of The Beatles back, I meant it. But I can’t do this without both of your help. You can have the money, you can have the fame, all I ask is for your help. So please… help me.”
“I think she serious,” Dawn said with a yawn. “But is it possible to do this tomorrow? I still need to sleep.”
“Don’t get me wrong, young lady, I still think this is all daft.” Dawn shrugged. “However, I can see clearly that you believe in us. It wouldn’t be hurt to at least give you a chance.”
Pull nodded. “I only promise to try. But I still have work to do here in Ponyville for a while.”
“Oh, thank you!” She said, flying up and hugging them both. “Thank you so much!”
“All good,” Dawn said. “But I think it’s about time you start heading to bed yourself. There are still a few things I want to talk to Pull about.”
“Oh absolutely!” She beamed. “So, when tomorrow do you want us to meet up again?”
“Probably noon,” Pull replied.
Ocellus quickly agreed and bid them goodnight. Leaving the old friends some time to talk things over.
At first when Ocellus introduced Pull and Dawn to Octavia, her music teacher thought that it was rather odd that she was being asked to teach these ancient ponies to play the guitar. If anything, the teacher was suspicious of her student’s claim that these two can create some of the greatest’s songs in history. However, despite their age, having to reteach them the basics wasn’t too difficult. At one point, while they did struggle, Dawn commented that it was like “Learning how to ride a bicycle again.”
In between teaching the stallions the scales and arpeggios in different key signatures, Ocellus noticed that once they learned them, they start to improvise on them in which, she insisted that they should be recorded. They were experimenting with rhythm and melody that at first was abstract. However, as days went by, they were starting to form bits and pieces of the songs the Changeling recognized.
About five days since they started, and during one of these improve moments, Dawn mused over an E Major scale that he plucked out seven familiar notes that he played over and over.
Ocellus’s ears perked up. “Wait a minute… I think I know that… Can you play that again?” Dawn did, and she sang out the last few notes. “That’s ‘All My Loving!’”
“Well I’m glad you know it,” he said, “Because I can’t figure out how to finish it.”
“Let me try,” Pull said, taking a closer look at Dawn’s playing before he improvised himself. While he played, it helped jog the Changeling’s memory of the melody. Although bits and pieces of the lyrics were on the tip of her tongue, Dawn helped piece together the poem that went with it. Amazingly to her through their improvisation, they were able to recreate the song in about half-an-hour.
Slowly, Ocellus, Dawn and Pull started to piece together some of the songs that the Changeling could remember. Starting with the love songs. Within a week and five days since they started, they pieced together the melodies and lyrics for: All My Loving, And I Love Her, Can’t Buy Me Love, Eight Days A Week, You Like Me Too Much, Yesterday, Manechelle, Girl, In My Life, Love You To, Martha My Dear, I Will, and Oh! Darling. From there, Ocellus turned to Octavia to help pen the notes and lyrics down on paper out of the recordings so that they would be in print.
At one point after their group lesson after Dawn and Pull left, her teacher inquired her student: “Are you planning on playing all of these?”
Ocellus nodded, “Eventually, yes. But right now, I’m just hoping to get as much of these songs preserved as possible.”
“You do have to remember that you still have to play in that recital coming up.” She told her. “If you’re still doing that Yesterday song, I hope that you got it all memorized for Saturday.”
“That reminds me, did you-”
“Yes, it’s all written down. Although, given how hard you’ve been working, I think that I might give you a surprise.”
Ocellus tilted her head. “What does that mean?”
“Now I admit, when you brought those Gentlecolts in, I was skeptical at first. However… I can see that with every passing day, they have something in them. A gift of sorts. In fact, when I was transcribing the song Yesterday down, I realized that this simple song is much more… richer than I anticipated. And it’s not just that, but a few others so far. So, giving how hard working you three are, I figured that I might do something special for the recital. Before you go, I was hoping I could ask a favor from you.”
“That being?”
“Would it be of any bother to you if I moved your performance to the very last?” She asked. “I have a feeling that this would fit better as a final piece.”
Ocellus nodded. “Sure thing. And don’t worry, I have the song memorized. If anything, I’m looking forward to it!” She smiled.
After she bid her goodbye, Ocellus trotted up over to Dawn and Pull up ahead. “Hey! Wait!” She called out to them. “My recital is coming up this Saturday and I’m going to play Yesterday, do you wanna come?”
“Oh…” Pull scratched the back of his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. You see, I’m expected to head home on Saturday so I think it would be unlikely for me to come to see it.”
“And I’m going to introduce my latest work in a gallery that day too,” Dawn said, scratching his beard. “Of course… If I’m lucky, I think I could slip away for a minute to at least have a listen. But I’m afraid there are no guarantees in that.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back as she turned to Pull, “But… aren’t you coming back? There’s still so much work that needs to be done.”
“I said that I would try to help as much as I can,” he told her, “I didn’t agree to work for you. I mean… I still don’t see any point in sticking around to see our songs go nowhere.”
“But it won’t this time. Everyone is going to lo-”
“How would you know it’ll be different?” Pull questioned. “When we first did this back in the day, we hardly got noticed by anyone. We wasted years in trying to get somewhere, so what makes you think we’d get those songs off the ground?”
“The first step is to get noticed first, that’s what this recital aims to archive is to spread the word that you two have written these incredible songs.”
Pull shook his head. “Even so, I still have a job to do. Maybe… I’d come back one of these days, but right now, I need to get to work.” After he bid them goodbye, he trotted off.
“I’d come,” Dawn said to her. “Of course, it might be a tight spot for me to get out of, but maybe I could try to step out to get to hear your song and back again.”
“Thank you, Dawn,” Ocellus said.
“But if for some reason I can’t be there, at least you know why.”
The young Changeling thanked him again before they said their farewells and parted.
“…. And I think that should cover everything.” Ocellus said, looking up from her Algebra book. There was a collective sigh of relief from her friends now that their time for the study group was mercifully finished.
“Finally,” Gallus sighed, “now we got that out of the way, how about we do something fun? Anycreature got any ideas?”
“I vote we go swimming,” Silverstream said, raising a claw. “I haven’t been to the pond in a while.”
“Eh,” Smolder shrugged, “I got nothing better to do.”
“Maybe Ocellus bring guitar,” Yona suggested.
The Changeling tilted her head. “For what?”
“To play, of course.” She said. “Did Changeling learn new song?”
“Actually… I’ve been working on a few.”
“Yeah?” Sandbar asked. “Is that what you’ve been doing the last few weeks?”
She swayed in thought. “You know what? I’ll tell you all later. For now, I wouldn’t mind cooling off somewhere.”
So, after exiting the library, putting their books and papers away, the six friends walked out of the school and towards a nearby pond. Despite not all of them know how to swim, they chose this particular spot as it was a place where all of them could stand in and still have their necks and heads be above the waterline. Yona the Yak was the first to belly flop into the shallow clear water, sending tidal waves that enormous ripples around the small shores of the pond. Ocellus put her guitar down by a tree and the rest of the friends followed after. Silverstream and Ocellus temporarily transformed into sea ponies, easily circling their friends and splashing them every so often.
Eventually, they flopped on shore to dry off in the sun. It was here that Sandbar turned over to Ocellus, “So, how about those songs?”
“Huh?”
“C’mon, the songs you’ve been working on for the past few weeks. You said you were going to talk about it.”
“Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” She sat up. “Well, at least there’s some good news. Do you guys remember that old stallion that wanted to talk to me right after the dance?”
“What was that about?” Gallus inquired. “You were gone for pretty much the rest of the night. Where did you go anyway?”
“Well, as it turns out, that was Pull McCart, one of the ponies that wrote the songs I’ve been playing.”
“Really?” Silverstream asked. “What did he say?”
“Well, to make a long story short, he was surprised that I was singing his songs because they didn’t do well when he sang them years ago. But after we talked about it, we eventually found out that the other songwriter lives right here in Ponyville. Dawn Lemon. And I was able to convince them both to help me piece together some of their songs with my music teacher transcribing their songs on paper.”
“Yeah?” Smolder raised an eyebrow. “And how many songs have you been able to come up with?”
“Well… Including the one that I’m going to sing at my recital… Thirteen so far.” All of her friend’s heads snapped their attention towards her, wide eyes. “What?”
“Thirteen!” Sandbar rolled over onto his belly in the sand. “That’s enough to fill an album.”
“Why so many?” Yona asked.
Ocellus shrugged. “I guess coming together, we’re able to piece together some great stuff.”
Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Play us one.”
“Huh?”
“Right now, play us a song that you’ve been working on with some old guys. I wanna hear what you’ve been up to.”
Her other friends agreed.
“Well… okay,” Ocellus went up over to fetch her guitar underneath the tree. “Let’s see…” She sat down near them on the sand, pondering for a moment. “How about this one? It’s called, All My Loving.”
At first, she plucked a few ascending notes in a slow, but moderate pace. Tranquil in sound, like the pond next to them. Then she began to sing. It was a farewell song to her special someone, to bid for them a last kiss because tomorrow she will missing them. To reassure them that she’ll write home every day while away to send all her love.
While her friends listened to this simply haunting song, it captivated them in the tune as time went on, their friend did pick up the pace a little while added more cords to make the sound richer, almost symphonic in tone. There was a liveliness to the song that sounded something very modern and yet, somehow old at the same time. As they listened, it was as if there was love in it in every single note. One that wasn’t faking it, but for them, this love song sounded genuine. As if she was pouring her heart into her guitar and her voice.
And yet, it was short. It was as if as soon as she started, it was over.
“Honestly,” Sandbar said, “I’d rather listen to something like that then whatever pop song there is on the radio now.”
“So,” Ocellus smiled, “I take it you all liked it?”
“I have to agree with Sandbar on this one.” Smolder said, “Compared to something like Sapphire Shores, or Coloratura, or even Songbird has on the radio on loop, that song there, is breath of fresh air.”
“It’s… good.” Gallus said. “Maybe not the absolute best song I’ve ever heard you sing, but it’s fine by me. Still, I kinda preferred that one song you did when you were at the hospital.”
“You mean Yesterday?” Ocellus asked.
“That’s the one.” He nodded. “There’s just… something about it that’s captivating.”
“Maybe you guys should come to my recital on Saturday,” she suggested. “I’m actually going to be playing Yesterday there. You guys wanna come?”
“Oh! Oh!” Silverstream flew in the air, “I have an idea, why not we tell the school that so they could come too!”
Ocellus blinked, “The school?”
“I mean, why not?” Sandbar asked. “You were a hit at the school dance, and if they hear that you’re going to be playing a new song – I’d be shocked if no one came.”
“Maybe…” Smolder rubbed her chin. “Maybe we could try to organize a concert for you. After all, if you already have been making thirteen new songs, as well as those songs you did at the dance, that should be more than enough for at least one concert. Maybe we can start selling tickets and stuff like that.”
“Yeah!” Gallus snapped his talons. “I can probably make some posters out there for the school, or maybe the whole town!” He wrapped an arm around his friend. “I can see it now, ‘Friday Night at the School of Friendship’s Theater, The Newest Musical Sensation – The Beagle!”
“Beatle,” Ocellus corrected him.
“The Beatle!” He grinned, “If your songs are as good as what we’ve heard, I think we can be able to make a fortune before we graduate!”
“Guys! What a minute,” Ocellus stepped back. “Look… before I say anything… I do appreciate what you’re doing here that, yes, I do want these songs to be as widely known as possible. However… if we’re seriously going to do this, then there are two things that I need you guys to promise me.”
“Sure thing,” Sandbar said, “What is it?”
“First, and most importantly, if you’re going to make posters and such, then you have to make it clear to everyone that the songs I’m going to be singing, that they’re not mine. I didn’t write them. They’re from Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon.”
“So, say that you’re doing covers of songs?” Gallus asked and she nodded. He shrugged. “Fine by me, but what’s the other thing?”
“That I will not be making a single bit” – Gallus was about to interrupt by she finished – “instead, whatever we do make, a good chunk will have to go the creators of the songs, as well as to two other surviving band members whose songs I’m singing for them. This is something I promised them, and if you can’t uphold that promise, we’re not doing this.”
“Why?” Yona questioned. “Ocellus should have fair share too.”
The Changeling put her guitar down and walked up to her. “Yona, do you know why I’m doing this in the first place?” Yona blinked but didn’t reply. “I’m doing this because just trying to sing these songs to as many creatures out there as possible so that they won’t be forgotten. These songs, I believe, have the power to change things the better. Maybe not in a huge way, but I think they’re important. So much so, that money has nothing to do with it. Preserving this stuff has more value to me than platinum.”
“Still…” Smolder scratched the back of her head. “It just doesn’t sound fair for you.”
“I don’t need money; I can take care of myself guys.” She said, “So, change of subject, does anyone want to hear another song?”
“Well, that’s interesting,” Gallus commented.
“Huh?” Smolder turned to him. At this point of the day, the students were on their way back to their dorm rooms. The two of them were following the rest of them but were at a distance where they were out of earshot. “What is?”
“I know she keeps insisting that what she’s singing are covers,” he pointed out, “but did you notice something?”
The dragoness raised an eyebrow, “What are you talking about?”
“They were all love songs.”
“So what? Nearly every song out there is about love.”
“Yeah, but did you noticed that in all of them, she is singing her heart out to a female? I mean, typically, most songs where girls sing them tend to be focused more on males? Are we starting to connect the dots here?”
“What? Are you saying that…?” She looked between him and the Changeling up ahead. “She’s a lesbian or something?”
“Hey, I’m not saying that she is,” he shrugged, “I just find it interesting is all.”
“And why would you care?”
“Well… think about it. Let’s suppose that she might swing that way for a moment. Just remember that back at the pond, whenever she was singing those love sings, she sounds like she’s singing her heart out. Like she’s serenading or something.”
Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…? And?”
“Now here’s the million-bit question: Who is she singing it to?”
The dragoness was about to reply, but her mouth hangs open for a moment, closing, and blinked. “But… that can’t be. She’s doesn’t have a crush on one of us… right?”
“But what if she was, who would it be?” Gallus asked. “It’s certainly wouldn’t be me or Sandbar. So that narrows down to Yona, Silverstream, and you.”
Smolder shook her head. “I don’t think Yona would count as she’s pretty much dating Sandbar. And I doubt it would be Silverstream either.”
Gallus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And why not?”
She waved a claw, “Let’s just say that I happen to know that Silverstream isn’t into girls. So that only leaves…” Her eyes widen.
Her friend smiled smugly while Smolder stopped, looking over to Ocellus walking away.
“Is there something you wanna share with the class?” Gallus inquired.
The dragoness shook her head. “C’mon? Me? That’s just ridiculous!”
“Is it? Is it really?” Gallus smirked. “If Ocellus is singing love songs where who she’s singing to is a lady; logically, out of all of us, it most likely would be you.”
“Now hold on a second, just because we’re good friends, and we study together, and we tell each other’s secrets, and we trust each other, and we study together, and have our rooms right next door it doesn’t mean she’s…” Her eyes widened. “Oh Goddesses…”
“Hey, I’m not saying that she is,” Gallus said, walking past her, “just… food for thought.”
It was during lunch break when he said these words to a group of ponies who sat by a table. One of them looked up. “About what?”
“You know about Ocellus?” The griffon asked slyly, placing his tray on the table. “Ya know, the one that played at the school dance not too long ago?”
“Oh yeah!” One of the teenage fillies said. “The Beatle? Of course, we know her.”
“By that tone, I take it you liked the songs she sang?”
“Well duh,” another teen said, rolling his eyes, “they were a lot of fun. Why?”
“Right, I’ll get to the point,” Gallus rubbed his claws together. “Did you know that she’s going to be playing a new song?” This caught everypony at that table’s attention. “It’s true.” He continued. “She’s going to be playing at a recital at Octavia’s place at one on Saturday. And from what I’ve heard, it might be the best one yet.”
“Okay, so why should we care?” One of the teens questioned. “She can play great, so what’s in it for us?”
“Well, I’d figure that it would be a great motivator,” Gallus replied, “that the more show up to hear her play, the more she would want to. And the more she would want to, the more likely she would be persuaded in doing a concert.”
“She’s gonna do a concert?”
“If, that is, she is given enough reason to. She’s been working on a dozen more songs as we speak. However, I don’t think she’ll be able to play those new songs unless this one goes well, as well as a demand from the whole school. And who knows? Perhaps the rest of the town would like to hear her play too?” He ended with a smug smile.
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to at least go see.” One of the teens commented. “If it’s played by The Beatle, then I think we should tell our friends about it?” The others agreed.
“Yes,” Gallus said, “do spread the word.”
‘Well this is certainly a no show.’ Dawn Lemon thought.
Except for one pony who came into the gallery to ask where the bathroom was, there wasn’t anyone that came to the opening of his latest exhibition. His paintings hung up on the walls with no one to look at them. All the while, the speakers overhead played the soundtrack of Horseshoepin’s nocturnes on loop, Dawn counting that this was the fifth time it had started over again. Despite waiting for someone to come in to at least give his latest creations a look, it was depressing in a way that almost no one has shown up.
‘I might as well not have bothered to put up a show in the first place.’
Dawn paced around the gallery, his mind questioning what exactly had gone wrong. He posted flyers that he was hosting an exhibition. He sent invitations, even told a few ponies of what he was doing. Yet, no one came. He stopped at the door and looked outside. He noticed on the clock tower that it was almost one in the afternoon.
‘There’s no one to stop you from going to that recital, you know?’ he told himself. ‘After all, you’d help the Changeling making up songs with Pull. And you did piece together some cracking tunes with her. It would seem heartless to not at least go over there and say hello.’
Another thought came to him when he glanced over at the empty gallery. ‘But I leave now, would there be anyone that would be coming in? For I know, maybe they’re running late and if they find that nopony is here… Then again, you have been waiting here for hours now. Something tells me that it’s unlikely that anyone else would come, even if I stepped out.’
He paused.
“You know what?” he said aloud to himself. “Sod this, I’m going to the recital.”
‘At least the girl would have an audience that she invited.’ He thought as he trotted out the door and headed towards Octavia’s home.
‘Please be there. Please be there. Please be there.’ Pull McCart was galloping through the streets towards the microscopic station at the edge of town. Due to waking up much later than expected, the old stallion was going as fast as he could in hopes that he wouldn’t miss the train back home. By the time he got there, however, he found the station was empty. So, out of breath, he went up to the ticket booth to the stallion who was reading a newspaper behind the glass.
“Pardon… me…” Pull managed to say, “When is… Train… to Balti…mare?”
The stallion in the ticket booth looked up. “I got word through the wire that it’s running late. If anything, you’re early.”
“Good…” Pull said, taking in another breath. “When-”
“From what I can tell, it should be by three. So I think you got plenty of time.”
‘Fantastic,’ the old stallion thought, annoyed. “But what am I to do until then?”
He shrugged. “Go watch a movie, read a book, visit the market. It’s none of my concern.”
Pull huffed, taking a few steps away, taking a glance both ways of the iron track. His hunches sank to the floor. In his mind, this delay is going to play havoc on not only his schedule, but he knew that by the time the train did arrive, he’s going to get home very late in the evening. Most likely he’ll have a family to answer to for being so late.
‘Goddess… I can’t keep doing this.’ He thought to himself. ‘Sure, this job has always been stable but is this really worth it? Always constantly away from the family, the wife especially. Always going door, to door, to door only to get little results… What am I doing with me life?
‘I mean if you look at it… I don’t think I’ve done much of anything worth important. Am I making a difference to anyone? At all? If anything, with the exception of being here, there’s not much I could say to justify this job, isn’t there? At least I finally managed to meet up with Dawn again. At least I did have fun for once, making up those songs and that girl helping us…’
He glanced over at the clock. ‘It’s almost one. Maybe there’s still time to go over to that recital and see what comes about with our song… Although I doubt that it would do any good, but for that Ocellus… You at least owe her that, Pull. Just to be there. She believes that what you and Dawn did was worth something and…’
Getting up, he adjusted his tie and picked up his briefcase. He has time. And he has a recital to attend.
For Octavia, it wasn’t that recitals were ever a no-show. Quite the opposite. Given the number of her students, the seats are usually full of parents, family and the occasional friend. For the most part, recitals were a small affair in the back yard of her and her roommate’s house where there were some snacks and lemonade were provided. All the while, she would be at the piano trying to match the tempo and rhythm of her students playing.
This, she had expected.
It was also awkward but important for her students too, especially getting used to playing their instrument to a crowd. Although necessary, there were the expected incidents where her students would forget a note here or play a few wrong ones there. However, she has been proud of her students for continuing on regardless, that even with the most lifeless, boring, ear-piercing playing, it was always received with some small applause.
This too is expected.
What she did not except, however, was the sheer numbers for this particular recital. From what she and Ocellus could gather, word had gotten around at the School of Friendship that she was going to perform a brand-new song from The Beatle. Given how much the students have certainly enjoyed her playing at the school dance, a good chunk of them were curious as to what this new song was going to sound like. “Or maybe,” Ocellus said, “Gallus told them that I was going to perform my ‘magnum opus,’ whatever that means.”
Regardless of the reason, Octavia was quite surprised the by sheer numbers of this recital. There were so many, that it overflowed out from the backyard and surrounded the house. Many of them were bored to tears as they have arrived early to listen to one student after another play their pieces in such a dry, by the number’s way. However, when it came to Ocellus to take her turn, there was a lively mummer from the crowd.
“H-Hello everyone,” she began, clutching her guitar, “my name is Ocellus… or The Beatle if you may, and I’m going to play for you-”
“One moment, Ocellus,” Octavia stopped her, “I have a surprise for you before you start.” She got up from the piano, quickly went over to the back doors of the house, and one by one, there were more musicians carrying strings, a harp, a windchime, a cymbal, xylophone, and a few wind and brass instruments. An entire orchestra walked out and tried to find a spot in the crowded assembly. “Mares and Gentlecolts, this final piece will be performed with the aid of the Canterlot Philharmonic. I don’t normally ask for their help at a recital, but I think that this time I would have to make a special case for what you are about to hear.
“Now Ocellus, would you do your introduction again?”
She nodded, clearing her throat, she looked over at the waiting multitude, at her parents who took shade underneath a tree, her friends that were eager to hear the song again in its full glory, the students that came out here just to see her, and– she froze. Ocellus didn’t notice at first, but by a pair of bushes, she spotted Dawn Lemon, waiting. As well as Pull McCart who quietly said, “Pardon me,” when he cut through the crowd over to where Dawn was.
“Ocellus?” Octavia asked, snapping her back into reality.
“Oh! Right,” she cleared her throat to the chuckles of the crowd. “My name is Ocellus, also known as The Beatle to some of you, and I’ll be playing for you the song called Yesterday, composed by Dawn Lemon and Pull McCart… who just so happens to be here right now.”
There was a mummer from all of them before she added:
“To you guys, for helping me with these songs, I want to simply say thank you for giving me the chance to work with you two.”
Looking down at her guitar, she began plucking a few chords in a tempo similar to a waltz, but as she began, the orchestra behind her started too.
The string started as a light, misty sound, something mysterious among her waltzing tempo. The harp and the piano joined in too with the rhythm along with a windchime. Then from her piano, Octavia cued her in to start singing. From there, Ocellus looked over to the crowd, her eyes going around to her parents, her friends, and then over to the creators of what she was singing.
As packed as that backyard was, everyone within earshot was underneath that spell that the Changeling was casting. It was melancholic but not sad. Simple in melody but made richly complex by the strings of the orchestra. To their ears, it was filled with a heartbreaking longing and yet, it was fulfillable. Tragic in its lyrics, but it never once sad. If anything, this short song was as if it was catharsis incarnate. Almost like the feeling after one was given enough time and room from a good cry.
For Ocellus, while she did look between those that she valued, her attention was still on McCart and Lemon with their reaction. She saw them look around at the crowd and saw in them, enjoyment. Nopony was getting up to leave. Nopony was bored. They were listening. For both ancient stallions, that for once in their lives, their music was being heard. It was being paid reverence from the crowd to be listening to something sacred. Something that they made. Pull covered his mouth in disbelief, while Dawn was trying (and failing) not to cry.
Meanwhile, the Changeling was blindsided over the fact while she was singing, Smolder was blushing while Gallus was smirking at her. She frowned. “Stop it.” She whispered during the song’s climax. “I don’t think she’s singing about me. She just said she didn’t write it.”
“No?” Gallus questioned. “Kinda funny that she still lends a helping hoof in making it though. You gotta admit, if this isn’t a big enough display of love and affection for you, I don’t know what is.”
“I don’t think this is a love song, sounds a little too heartbroken for that.”
“True,” Gallus whispered back, “you didn’t break hers, did you?”
While Smolder stared daggers at him, as much as she hates to even think about… Did he have a point? For the dragoness, the idea that maybe her friend secretly likes her is still unlikely but… then again, she doesn’t know that for sure. As far as any of them know about Ocellus, she never has gone on a date, never mentioned who she found cute, or even spoken about finding a special someone. So how influenced by Ocellus the songs she was singing were? And is she singing what she’s thinking and feeling about?
Ocellus finished her song with the quiet, elegant and grace that the song deserved as her guitar and her teacher’s piano lead it to the end of it. This was followed by loud cheering applause, especially coming from the students in the area. Even a chant started up from them with the cry of “Beatle! Beatle! Beatle!” Before Ocellus could do anything, she was pulled aside from her music teacher and taken inside the cottage.
“There’s somepony I’d like you to meet.” She said.
Through the doors among the black cases of the orchestra was a stallion that Ocellus has never seen before. A white unicorn in a suit, a monocle, and a smile. “So, you’re The Beatle that she’s talking about.” He began, offering his hoof for her to shake.
Ocellus took it. “And who are you?”
“Fancy Pants.” He told her. “I’m a patron for your music teacher, you see. In particular, for the Canterlot Philharmonic. I must say, that song of yours was brilliant.”
“Oh, thank you, sir. But it’s not mine.”
This made him raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Then who’s song did you sing?”
“The composers are here actually; do you want to meet them?”
Fancy said he wouldn’t mind. Ocellus went back outside and came back in a minute later with the old stallions. “Sir, I’d like you to meet Dawn Lemon and Pull McCart.”
“A pleasure.” He shook their hooves. “If anything, this is really good that I’m able to meet all of you today. You three may not know it, but you’ve helped solve a problem that I currently have.”
“What’s that?” Pull inquired.
“Well you see, recently a radio station has gone out of business, so I bought it. However, up until now, I haven’t decided as to what sort of music it will be playing over the air. It wasn’t until Octavia who convinced me to lend the orchestra over to her and to listen to the works of a new song. I confess I was rather skeptical at first, borrowing the philharmonic for one song at a recital. However, given how high of a quality that song it was, I see an opportunity.”
“Afraid we don’t know where you’re going with this,” Dawn said.
“Well, I’ve decided that I want to put up music that is neither pop nor classical, but something in between yet, avant-garde enough to be its own thing. Something experimental, but fun. Something old, but new. Something that anyone can listen to where it would be popular for the masses but sophisticated enough that the elite wouldn’t be ashamed for liking. Fortunately, I have found the very music I was looking for.”
“You mean,” Ocellus asked, “you want to put Yesterday on the radio?”
“As a start,” Fancy nodded. “Tell me, do any of you have any more songs?”
Pull said that they have some, that although they’re written down, none of them are properly recorded.
“In that case,” Fancy told them, “I advise you to do so. In fact, if you can record that song I’ve heard, I want to buy the rights for it. And maybe, get you all to sign a contract as well if any of you are interested.”
“Contract?” Dawn blinked.
“But hold on.” Pull interjected. “None of us are professional musicians. I mean we still have jobs outside of this.”
“Maybe I can take care of that,” Fancy said, his horn glowing and taking out a checkbook and a pen. “Just from what I’ve heard, and since I am the first to do this in regards to your composition…” He wrote in an amount, tore the check out from the book and levitated it over to Ocellus, “This is how much I think that song is worth.”
Ocellus gasped.
Pull and Dawn leaned their heads over to see what she was looking at. Their eyes widened. Pull grabbed the check, his jaw dropped.
“Blimey,” Dawn gave a low whistle.
“Is that the right number of zeros?” Pull asked.
Ocellus counted and told him that it was.
“And that’s only the start,” Fancy told them. “If you count for royalties and such. Of course, there’s still of the matter of a contract to be drawn up and the music to be recorded. But I think I could lend a helping hoof on my end. Now I don’t know if there’s any sort of difficulties between the three of you, but I do hope we would come together for some sort of deal.”
“Fifty million…” Pull muttered, looking over to Dawn, “Even with us getting an equal share, that’s more than enough for all kinds of things.”
“Well obviously. A share for you, me, Mango, Forge’s son, and Ocellus.” He patted her on the shoulder. “She should get a share too.”
“So that leaves ten million each.”
Ocellus stepped away. “Hold on, I said I don’t want the mo-”
“You can use that money for tours and things.” Pull pointed out. “Think about it, even with ten million, there’s much you can do with it. Rent theaters, hire musicians, get new instruments. Whatever you need. Maybe it doesn’t have to go to you, but maybe you can use it for shows and such.”
“He’s right,” Dawn nodded. “And that’s more than enough to get the other songs recorded and such. Not to mention set up for concerts and such. And all of this from one song! If we can do the rest, why, we’d be set for life.”
“So…?” Fancy inquired. “Is that a yes?”
“More than a yes,” Pull said, walking towards the front door. “Where’s the nearest telegraph building?”
“It’s near the Town Hall.” Ocellus told him. “Why?”
“I’m going to go over there, and wire first to the family that I have a new job. And a second to my boss to say something I wanted to say for a long time.”
“What’s that?”
He stopped at the front door, looked back over to them and smiled. “I quit!”
“Thank you, mom.” Ocellus replied. The family was together in the dorm room of their daughter after they had to squeeze through the crowd of students wanting something from her, a photo or a signature from the young Changeling. Now that they were alone, they have room to relax a little.
“Whoever knew that you’d become so popular here.” Her father said. “Especially over a song.”
“Oh! It’s not just a song dad,” she told him, “not too long ago, I’ve learned enough songs to sing at a school dance and, well… it looked like my reputation is growing.”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “So, who were those two old stallions you dragged into your teacher’s house?”
“They’re the songwriters who came up with Yesterday, along with the stuff I sang at the dance. Recently, the patron of my music teacher was here and made a deal with us to have our music being played on his radio station.”
“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!” Her mother said.
“Yeah! And he’s willing to pay to buy the rights to the song I just sang to be played first. But we still need to record the other songs first though before we sign any contract.”
“Contract?” The father tilted his head. “Now Ocellus, you’re still a student.”
“I know.” She nodded. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to neglect what I have to do at school. But I figured that during my free time that I can help out with writing the songs, singing, and performing too. Besides, once we do that, I’d be getting a share in which I’m going to put into any future concerts and such.”
“You mean you’re going to be paid?” Her mother asked. “Well, I suppose that’s fair, how much?”
“Ten-million.” Her parents’ jaws slammed on the floor. “As a start.”
“Ten-mill…” The father struggled to put into words in his shock.
“But I’m not going to use it for myself.” She added. “I made a promise that I’ll only use the money towards the music we’re making. Such as instruments and renting out places to perform.”
“Still, sweetie,” the mother runs a hoof over her head. “I’m just… surprised is all. Ten-million Equestrian bits for all those songs you’ll-”
“Oh no, it was just for that song I sang.”
“For one song!? Holy crap Ocellus, if that’s just the start, you’d probably be the wealthiest Changeling in history if this keeps up.”
“Except, I promised that I wouldn’t make a bit off of it.” She told them. “I’m not unaware of how much I’m getting, but I’m not foolish enough to spend it all in one go. If anything, I’m going to get some help to manage all of this, so it’ll go to things like recording equipment and such.”
Her parents looked at one another. “Okay,” her father nodded. “If you know what you’re doing. And that you make enough time for your schooling, this is still important, you know.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Still,” her mother said, “there is something that I have been wondering about.”
“What’s that?”
“You introduced yourself as The Beetle. Why?” She raised an eyebrow. “We have enough time as it is to let creatures know that we’re not exactly bugs.”
“Well…” Ocellus licked her dry lips. “It’s only a name, mom.”
“I know that. Some bands and music stars have weird names that make them stand out but… why that name? Beetle. Why would you name yourself after something that even we look down on? A beetle is a pest and yet, here you are giving yourself a name after something we wouldn’t hesitate to squish?”
“Because…” Ocellus hesitated. As much as her mother did, in fact, have a point, that very name to Changelings would raise suspicions for the absurdity that she’s given others to identify her by, an idea came to mind. “Maybe it’s well suited.”
“Ocellus…” Her father was about to say in a concerned tone, sitting next to her. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like-” he was quickly interrupted.
“I want to use that name as a force for good.” She replied. “To turn it around from something that a few of us would see as derogatory and change it as into something inspiring. Like an underdog sort of way. I could use the songs that I sing to change the idea of a beetle as a pest and turn it into a badge of honor. A force for creativity and imagination. Which is, in a sense, is what I’m set out to do.”
“That is if this does work out.” Her mother pointed out. “Unless you somehow make this music thing work, there would be those that would either use that as an insult to you, or others that would take offense that you’re calling yourself that as a serious musician.”
“But I think that it will work out.” She replied. “As long as I have the right creatures to help me, it’s going to be okay.”
“And who is going to help you out?” The father questioned.
“Well, I was thinking of Headmare Twilight, along with my friends and my music teacher. As long as I have them, I can get by with my friends.” ‘Oh that’s right,’ she thought, ‘that’s another song of theirs, isn’t there?’
“If you say so,” her mother said, “just make sure you’re careful is all. Especially to the fans out there. I think they would have some high expectations.
“Still…” Smolder said after sipping her tea. “A check for ten million is huge.”
“But I’m still keeping to my promise that the money won’t go to me.” Ocellus said. “I’ve opened a bank account, in which it’s going towards things like future concerts and such. But still, whoever knew that this music business would be a lot of work?”
The Changeling took a moment to take a sip of her tea.
At this point, it has been a few weeks since her recital, and since McCart quit his job as a sales pony, recorded the song for Yesterday, as well as the many other songs for Fancy Pant’s radio station, the student has been swamped underneath the workload. Needless to say, it had put a strain on both her school and social life. How Ocellus still found the time for her friend’s Top Secret Tea Party in the roof of one of the school’s tower’s – is a mystery even she couldn’t figure out. Nor would she care to question.
“Tell me about it,” Smolder said, “I get that this is huge for you so naturally you would be busy but… still…” She poured in another cup. “We’re starting to miss you after a while.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back. “I know… I know…” She sighed. “Forget that I barely have any time for sleep to do homework and finish other projects, me being away from you guys isn’t fair for any of you. Between trying to help out with writing songs and recording them, I’m barely keeping together as to what day it is.”
“Has the thought came to you that maybe you should have a break?” The Dragoness questioned. “I mean, you don’t have to work yourself so hard when you’re still a student for crying out loud.”
Her Changeling friend shook her head. “Not now. Not yet. There’s still an outdoor concert that needs to be organized, not to mention planning to go on tour for Spring Break and-”
“Hold on, hold on,” Smolder put her teacup down. “What do you mean you’re going on tour for Spring Break?”
“Did I tell you?” Ocellus blinked. “I could have sworn I did.”
“No, this is news to me.”
“Oh… Well, I’m planning to visit Yakyakistan, then to the Changeling Kingdom, go down to the Hippogriff Kingdom before coming back here.”
“I rest my case.” Smolder waved a claw. “Going on tour is one thing, but to go to three different places, each of which is about a good couple thousand miles or so apart, and you’re planning to do all of that within a week? I don’t know about you, but that sounds a little excessive to me.” She picked up a cookie and, after taking a bite from it asked, “Besides, even if you are going to do that, how the hey are you going to travel from one corner of the planet to the next and still come back in time for school?”
“Well, I figured that maybe I could get Starlight’s help for that.” She answered. “After all, I hear she’s good at teleporting at very long distances. But if that doesn’t work, I could go by flying.” She took picked up a cookie. “Besides, you are right on one thing. I do need a bit of a break before I start singing again. Given how there’s still so much left to do.”
“Now you’re listening to reason!” Smolder said. “Look, how about you take a few days off during the weekend to go on a camping trick with us? Just give us time to relax and all.”
Ocellus smiled. “I’d love that. After I'm done recording a few songs we should- oh!” The Changeling slapped the side of her head. “I’d nearly forgot! I’ve managed to hammer down one of the songs I’m gonna play by memory. You wanna hear?”
Smolder’s smile drooped. “Uh… You wanna do that, now?”
“Why not? While we’re on break, I want to hear your opinion on how I’m doing before I go in to record. Here, let me go get my guitar.”
Ocellus exited their secret spot before Smolder could get a word out. While she waited, she recalled what Gallus had theorized. As much as she told herself that it was unlikely, that it couldn’t be true… most of the songs she’s been hearing from her friend seemed to suggest otherwise. Did Ocellus had felt something for her, and she didn’t realize it? And if that were true… how was she going to break it to her without hurting her friend in the process?
“Got it,” Ocellus said suddenly when she reentered. Sitting down across from the Dragoness, she held up her guitar. “Personally, I think this one is my favorite so far. It’s called Marechelle. Keep in mind, there’s gonna be more to it when I record this, but at least you’d get a general idea of it.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Smolder said with a forced smile.
So, the young Changeling began by strumming a few simple chords that at first didn’t sound that remarkable. That was until she started singing – and within the first verse, it was clear that this was a love song. In Smolder’s ears, a beautiful one. Probably the best one she’s ever heard. And that fact alone made not only for the Dragoness to lose her smile, but to be knifed with dread over what she has to do.
‘Goddess, this is going to be so hard.’ She thought, ‘I mean… telling Ocellus, probably the most peaceful, positive, intelligent and kindest out of all of us that I don’t love her like that. She may not write the song but she’s making an effort here… Oh great! She’s singing it in Prench now! What am I going to say without her making her cry? ‘Sorry, I’m not into girls?’ ‘Beautiful song, but I’m not that into you?’ How come in the School of Friendship that they never teach you stuff like this?’
“Smolder?” The Dragoness blinked, realizing that her friend had stopped playing and is instead looking at her concerned. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed into her claws.
Ocellus got up. “Smolder, are you okay?”
“Don’t… hate me for saying this.” She began.
“Huh?”
“Ocellus…” She hesitated, lifting her head. “Look… I’m flattered. Really, I am. It’s just… I don’t it’s gonna work out like this.” She winced as she saw her friend had a hurt expression.
“W-What are you saying?”
“I…” She sighed. “You know what? I can’t figure out a better way to sugar-coat this… Ocellus…” She scratched the back of her head. “What is it that the ponies say…? My barn door doesn’t swing that way.”
The Changeling blinked. “Huh?”
“Do I have to spell it out to you?” She asked. “I’m not into girls. There! I’m sorry I have to break this to you, but I’m not… I mean you’re a good friend and all, the best one out there, it’s just I don’t think I’m… that into you.”
“Wait… what?” Ocellus tilted her head in confusion.
“C’mon, all these love songs.” She waved her claw. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice? Ocellus, I’ve already figured out that they’re meant for me. And… to be honest, it’s flattering that you’re doing all of this for me. But in the long run, it’s not gonna work out because I’m not a lesbian.”
There was a long… long awkward silence between the two of them.
“Okay,” said Ocellus, “I did not see that coming.”
“Huh?”
“You think that all those love songs are for you?” Ocellus blinked. “But I’m not in love with you.”
The confused Smolder, “Wait, they’re not?”
“Look, if I wanted to write love songs and poems to say that I love you, don’t you think I would have sung something else? What gave you the idea that I was anyway?”
“Gallus.”
“Ooh…” Ocellus nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“But he did bring up a good point though.” Her friend asked her what she meant. “I mean, typically when girls sing about love, it’s usually to a guy. But this whole time you’ve been singing things like ‘And I Love Her,’ ‘She Loves You,’ and now this. Don’t you see a pattern here? It’s about you, a girl, singing directly to… well… a girl.”
“O-Oh…” The Changeling blushed. “Wow uh… you know, I was so caught up with these songs that I didn’t think about that…”
Another awkward silence later and Ocellus said, “So… can I ask you a personal question?” She nodded. “Are you… you know… into girls?”
“I never said I was.”
“But that’s not a straight answer,” Smolder smirked at her own joke.
Ocellus sighed. “You want one…? I don’t know.”
The Dragoness blinked. “You don’t?”
“Can you blame me?” The young Changeling asked. “Since I was hatched under the reign of Chrysalis, I didn’t have time to stop and think who I’m attracted to. We have to go out to hunt for love to collect for the Hive. And even with King Thorax, now my attention has shifted over to doing well in school, being a quasi-representative of the Hive, and to top it all off, starting to become noticed for these songs – well… I just don’t know. Even if I did, I don’t think I’m, well… ready for something like that.”
“Not ready to go on a date?”
Ocellus shook her head. “Not until I get time to breathe. Besides, I haven’t found anyone of late that I would consider dating. But as to the songs – yeah, I should have thought of that.”
“Huh.” Smolder sat back down. A thought came to her, “One last question,” she asked picking her cup. “Didn’t you say once that Changelings can read emotions off of others?” Her friend nodded. “So… Just out of curiosity, have you sensed anyone-”
“I’m suspecting Gallus is developing a crush on Silverstream.” Ocellus said with a smile. “It’s not full-blown love yet, but for me, it’s noticeable that his goes up whenever he walks behind her.”
It took a long time to not only record but rerecord each song so that to Ocellus, Pull and Dawn, they sounded perfect. Even with the older songs, they listened back to every note, every chord, and every vocal tone until they could say with confidence, “Yes! That’s it!” before moving on with the next one. Before they knew it, they recorded twenty-seven songs, ready to go and be heard on the radio.
Fancy Pants did come down to Ponyville as soon as they send word that the songs have been recorded – along with a few lawyers. The group negotiated in how payment was to be split up, giving Ocellus, Pull, and Dawn the copyrights and royalties to their songs. As well as handing the rights to their songs over to Fancy to be put on the air on his radio station. Before they signed any agreements, both they and Fancy came to a compromise that they will be paid based on a percentage of record sales, as long as they, in turn, give him at least two songs a week.
They agreed.
Two days later at noon, the radio station, Imagine 96.3, was launched; and for their opening song, they played Yesterday. As ponies who tuned into this new station, they heard the voice of Ocellus singing. Not only in Canterlot and Ponyville, but anyone in Equestria who had a radio heard the tunes of this young voice. Especially the young who after hearing one earworm after another, began writing to their radio stations if they would play this or that song again. All the better for Fancy, as it means that those stations would have to buy the songs from him.
One morning, after Ocellus had woken up and about to go out to her classes, she found Headmare Twilight there.
“Headmare? What are you-”
“Do not go outside of the school today.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Before she knew it, Twilight’s horn glowed brightly and before she knew it, Ocellus was in Twilight’s office. “Let’s just say that for the time being, you shouldn’t go outside because of your fans.”
Ocellus blinked. “I have fans?”
“Look out of the window.”
She did, flying over, the Young Changeling was astonished at what was outside of the school. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of ponies were camped outside of the school’s borders as if this portion of Ponyville was flooded by a multicolored army. There were tents and campfires, even portable toilets were set up.
“I tried to make sense of why they’re here.” Twilight said, “Apparently, they’re all here because someone got word that The Beatle happens to go to school here. If I didn’t put up a shield around the school… well… I don’t want to risk anypony getting hurt.”
“They’re all here for me?” The Headmare nodded. “How do you know that?”
“Besides talking to them, they have a sign posted just outside of the shield that says, ‘We Want the Beatle.’ I tried to ask them to go away, but they insisted on hearing from you.”
Ocellus looked between her and the fans outside. “All of this and we didn’t release a record yet. They must have heard me on the radio… I didn’t think I would get a response like this right away.”
“Well, we still need to do something about it. Because otherwise, nopony would be able to get in or out of the school.”
“Unless…” Ocellus began, the clockwork in her mind started turning. “I tell them to come back later.”
“Huh?”
“Well I was planning on doing an outdoor concert in the coming weeks but… maybe I need to move it sooner than expected.” Her head jerked up. “I got an idea!” Opening the window, she flew out before Twilight could stop her. She flew over towards the edge of the shield in which the crowd cheered loudly when they saw her.
“Uh… Excuse me?” She said but her voice was drowned out by the screams of her fans. “Hey! If everyone could just… If you could-”
“EVERYPONY SHUT UP!!!”
The sudden explosion of words was heard, and Ocellus turned around to see Twilight flying out with her. This sudden outburst was effective enough to quiet the fans down. Before Ocellus could speak, Twilight cast an amplifier spell on her so that they could hear.
Ocellus cleared her throat. “Yes, hello everyone! Can you all hear me?” They said they can. “Great! Now listen, I can assume that all of you have probably come a long way just to hear me sing, right?” They said they were. “All of you have to understand that I’m still a student that still needs to attend classes. But at the same time, I was planning for a concert in a few weeks. But, with all of you here, maybe I could make a change in plans.” There was a mummer from the fans. “So, I’ll tell you what. If all of you could wait until say… Tomorrow night, at eight o’clock over at the Windmill, I will set up an impromptu concert for all of you. Sound good?”
There was a shout in approval.
“Great, see you all until then.” She said with a smile before turning to Twilight who stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
“You do realize what just came out of your mouth, right?” She questioned. “You’re going to stage a concert tomorrow? Do you even have a plan for that?”
“Well…” Ocellus blinked. Realizing too late that she didn’t.
Even after Twilight told her to get to her classes, and as much as she tries to pay attention, Ocellus was confronted with the fact that despite giving all those fans a promise of a show – she didn’t have much of an idea as to how to put it together. For a while, she wasn’t sure what order the songs she had should be.
“So, rumor has it you’re going to have a concert tomorrow night at the windmill.”
It was during lunch hour when Ocellus looked up at Sandbar when he said it.
Ocellus slammed her had face-first into the table. “I think my mouth spoke before my head did.” She said. “What was I thinking?”
While Sandbar took his seat, Yona approached with her lunch. “What going on?”
“By the sound of it,” Sandbar said, “I think she’s gonna need our help.”
“With what?”
“I agreed to a crowd to do a concert before I’m prepared for it.” Ocellus said, lifting her head in time to see Yona sitting down as well as seeing Gallus and Silverstream approaching the table. “But he’s right, I’m in desperate need of help to get ready for tomorrow.”
“What do you need?” Sandbar asked.
“Well, apart from moving equipment up to the roof of the windmill – possibly wiring up a couple of loudspeakers up there – I also need to figure out which songs I’m gonna do, as well as probably have some security for crowd control.”
“If you’re looking for a good security guard,” Smolder said, walking in with a tray. “Then there’s no better than a flying dragon that can breathe fire.”
Ocellus thanked her for that.
“You said that there’s gonna be fans?” Gallus inquired. “Tell me, are they the kind that would happen to have bits?”
She shrugged. “Maybe? Although…” Ocellus thought for a moment. “If you were to sell tickets, I think it would limit the number of ponies there a bit. Which would make the job for security for you Smolder a lot easier.”
“I think I can tackle the tickets,” Gallus said, rubbing his talons his mind starting to daydream. “Along with other things.”
“But what about the songs?” Silverstream asked. “How many are you going to sing?”
“Well…” Ocellus mused. “There’s twenty-seven so far, and they’re going to all be put on a record soon-”
“But you don’t have to sing all of them, do you?” Sandbar asked. “I mean, most of your songs are about – what – two minutes give or take?” She nodded. “So if you were to sing all of those, that would be… About eighty-one minutes. Well over an hour. So maybe you don’t have to sing them all.”
“Could I do that?”
“Is there rule that say not to?” Yona asked.
“Well… no. There isn’t as far as I know. With concerts, I could make them as long as I want. So maybe I could just pick like… ten or so. Considering that I need to put this together, that would make the most sense.”
“Yeah.” Sandbar nodded. “Unless you’re doing a musical or something, I think it’s a good idea to keep it short.”
Ocellus nodded, and in her mind, she began to pick out the songs she’s done. She reasoned that she should pick out the ones that don’t require a large-scale orchestra. That, and it would make sense to use the same method that she used at the school dance as well, which means she needs to visit Octavia’s home to get the recordings for the karaoke versions for her to play with.
Then, a thought came to her.
“Would it be a good idea to introduce a couple of new songs at this concert?”
All of her friends looked up at her, stunned.
“What are you talking about?” Smolder questioned.
“Suppose I was to go to work with McCart and Lemon where we just make up a few new songs before the concert.”
“Are you crazy?” Sandbar asked her. “You have about a day left; I don’t know if there’s enough time for you guys.”
“But there’s a couple of really good ideas I could pitch to them. I think these would be crowd-pleasers.”
“Yona doesn’t think good idea,” Yona said. “Not possible to write up good songs in short amount of time.”
“Moztrot could do it.” Ocellus protested.
“Maybe,” Gallus pointed out, “but last time I checked, you’re not Moztrot.”
Immediately after school, Ocellus went towards her music teacher’s home. Before she could enter through the front door, she stopped and heard guitars playing, along with two familiar voices singing. So carefully opening the door, she stuck her head in to peek through and not interrupt the jamming session that was going on. Not only were Pull, Dawn, and Octavia were there, but so was a mare that Ocellus has never seen before.
Sitting on a wooden stool was a mare that looked as old as the stallions, one that had a straw blond mane that was tied back. Her fur was a cloudy gray, and the Changeling noticed the lens of a camera as her cutie mark. She held in her hooves a beaten-up black guitar case.
“Uh… E-Excuse me.” Ocellus said meekly.
The music died down and the older stallions turned to look at her.
“Ah!” Pull said with a smile, putting down his guitar. “Our muse has arrived!”
“Good timing too,” Dawn commented. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out what comes next to this bloody tune.”
Pull rushed over to pull Ocellus in. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” The young Changeling asked.
“So far they’re just playing nonsense,” Octavia told her. “For all I know, most likely not.”
“I want you to meet someone.” Pull said, pulling her over to the other mare in the room. “Ocellus, I’d like to introduce you to the light of me life, Lens. Lens, this is the Changeling that has changed our lives.”
“So, you’re The Beatle that everyone’s talking about,” Lens said, offering a hoof for her to shake.
Ocellus took the hoof in hers. “I’m sorry, but how do you two know each other?”
“She’s me wife.” Pull explained. “I met her after the band broke up in the sixties.”
“Okay, so what’s that?” She pointed at the guitar case.
“Funny story,” Lens said, “Not too long ago, I was going through the attic to clean it out. You know, throwing junk out and such. At first, I decided to throw this out as Pull here rarely plays on it. But an hour later, I got word from that he’s been offered ten-million bits if he just writes songs. So, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t throw this out, the garbage collector came by and tossed this into the truck. Then I had to run down the street to get him to stop so I could pull this back out. So after I came up here, Pull and I started talking. He said that he doesn’t see the use of playing it anymore so… maybe we should give this to you. As saying thanks for changing our lives.”
“Chances are,” Pull added, “You might need this more than I do.”
Curious, the young Changeling sat the case down and, after unlocking the latches, she opened it and gasped. Inside covered in a layer of dust as a bass guitar. One that had a slightly longer neck, four strings, had a pair of dials at one end of the sound body in which it was shaped like a violin. For the Changeling, she recognized the instrument almost immediately. This wasn’t just any bass guitar; it was the guitar that was as iconic as the band she knew.
“Is this…?”
Pull nodded. “My instrument when we were The Beatles. Since I’ve been neglecting it for a while, I figured that maybe it should be put into good use. I’m giving it to you.”
Ocellus shook her head. “No… No this… I don’t know if I can accept this.”
“Why not?” Lens asked. “It’s just an old guitar.”
“For you, yes. But to me… this is like being hoofed over a sacred artifact. I don’t know I’m allowed to touch it.”
“Here,” Pull said, his hoof outstretched, “lend me your hoof.” She did so, and he immediately brought it over to the neck of the instrument. “I, Pull McCart hereby allow Ocellus the Changling to touch this holy guitar. May she rock out with it long into the night. Amen!” Although Ocellus immediately withdrew, Pull chuckled. “Here,” he pulled the guitar out of its case, “give it a go.”
Taking the instrument into her hooves, she plucked the open chords that, although it did sound deep, couldn’t help but noticed that it sounded funny. All of a sudden, Dawn was laughing so she asked why.
“I knew I was forgetting something!” He said. “Pull’s strings are on backward.”
“Huh?”
“He’s left-hoofed. Back when we had the band, Pull couldn’t play the guitar like normal so he had to pull the strings out, and reattach them so that to anypony else, it would be like playing it upside-down!”
“Oh…” Pull said, taking the guitar back with an embarrassed blush. “I completely have forgotten about that.”
“Okay,” Ocellus cleared her throat. “It’s actually a really good thing you’re both here because I need your help.”
“On what?” Dawn inquired.
Ocellus told them what had happened this morning, of the multitude of fans, and her agreeing to do an impromptu concert tomorrow night. When she finished, she added. “Also, if it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could help me out with a couple of ideas that I think might interest you two.”
“Yeah?” Pull asked. “And how do they go?”
“Let’s see uh…” Ocellus rubbed her temples, concentrating on how exactly the songs go. “There’s one called Help!”
Dawn jerked. “Lady, there’s no need to scream.”
“No, that’s what it’s called.”
In the corner, Octavia took out a mug in which it was filled with tea. “This is going to be a long day.” She muttered.
If Ocellus was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to perform for a mob of fans that have doubled by the time, she was ready to perform. Not because out of stage fright for having to get up and sing to Celestia-knows-how-many. Nor is it over her safety as a couple of puffs of Smolder’s firry breath proved to even the most fanatical of fans that getting too close was not a good idea.
She was truly worried if the speakers that she had to borrow would be enough for everypony to hear her. Almost as far as the eye could see in every direction, ponies have climbed onto roofs, on trees, even stacking on each other. For the more winged fans, they brought down clouds in droves to the point that she could barely make out the night sky. There were even places on the hills where some were renting a telescope so that they could see her for about a minute at a time.
For good measure, someone had even brought out spotlights to shine onto the top of the windmill’s roof. Ocellus wasn’t sure where exactly the lights came from. Maybe one of her friends got it, but either way, the improvised stage is lit up like a Hearths Warming tree.
Inside the windmill, Ocellus peeked through one of the small windows. “There’s so many out there,” she said, “I didn’t think they would be this many already. We didn’t put out the first record yet.”
“Who cares?” Gallus said, “Do you know how many tickets I was able to sell?”
“Yes,” Sandbar deadpanned, “we could tell by the mountain of bits that’s downstairs right now.”
“To be fair,” Dawn commented, “I don’t think anypony would have seen this coming. Although I can picture that it’s gonna get pretty noisy out there in a minute.”
The Changeling looked back to not only to Dawn and Pull, but to her friends as well. “What exactly do I do if they’re being so loud that I can’t hear myself play?”
Pull put a hoof on her shoulder. “Listen, as long as you’re on that stage, you must remember the number one rule as a musician. That no matter what happens, you keep going. Even if you can’t hear yourself think, you keep on playing until the end.”
“You can do this,” Silverstream spoke up. “You’ve been amazing at the school dance and at that recital. So, I think you’ll be fantastic here too!”
“Hippogriff right,” Yona said with a smile, “Changeling got this.”
“It’s almost time,” Sandbar announced, looking at another window towards the clocktower. “So Ocellus, are you ready?”
Looking down at the violin-like guitar, although she was against it at first, telling Pull that she wasn’t familiar with playing the base, he had rearranged the strings to the way she would be familiar with, and her music teacher pointed out that she could play it fine as long she moved her hoof up an octave or two. She nodded. “I think so.”
“Great!” Gallus said from the beams of the windmill. “I’ll go out there and bring the hype to them. In the meantime, do what you gotta do.” The griffon went up the stairs to go through the trap door and onto the stage.
Smolder approached her friend who was taking deep breaths. “Hey, before you go up there, Headmare Twilight told me to give you some of these.” Stretching out her arm, she held in her claws a pair of green earplugs. “She figured that since it’s gonna be really noisy out there, you might as well put these in so that you wouldn’t go deaf when you’re playing.” At that moment, there was a roaring cheer from outside as they could hear Gallus saying something. “Looks like I gotta go. Need to head to the front door before they storm it.” She shook her hoof. “You’re gonna do fine out there.” With that, she quickly went downstairs.
Turning to the songwriters, she asked, “But, how am I be able to hear what I’m playing?”
“Well, your head knows what it’s doing before the rest of you do, right?” Dawn asked.
“He’s right.” Pull added. “Whatever you do, don’t doubt yourself. The moment you think you can’t do it, you’ll collapse. Before you step onto that state, believe that you will sing out every note and hold onto that as long as you can.”
Ocellus thanked both of them before picking up the guitar and walking up the steps to where Gallus was getting the crowd hyped up. She took this time to put those earplugs in, letting them swell up until the sound became somewhat muffled, but not the point where she couldn’t hear anything. Besides the sound of her heartbeat, she could still pick up on the cheering and Gallus getting them ready.
And then, they heard the chiming of the clocktower.
It was time.
“AND NOW!” Gallus shouted over the loudspeakers. “FOR THE MOMENT YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! HERE SHE IS! THE BEATLE!”
Ocellus pushed the trapdoor open, and there in the open air was a microphone, the buttons for her to help play her the songs, some very bright lights that blinded her from the full extent of the fans that were screaming at her in excitement, and the shadow of Gallus flying off.
She paused for a moment to breathe before stepping forward to the microphone, plugging the guitar in. “How is everyone doing?” she asked, getting a maddening shout of excitement. “With that, let’s get started with a good one, huh? I’ll start this off with a song called, ‘I Feel Fine.’”
Looking down, she adjusted her hoof down the neck before strumming the first note.
On the loudspeakers, there was a thump, a wobbly sounding feedback and then, she pressed a button with a hoof and began to play. Playing ten seconds of a simple riff before she starts to sing, in which, she was immediately drowned out.
It was beyond annoying for Ocellus. She could barely hear the tempo of the song she was singing, let alone what she was playing on that guitar. However, she closed her eyes and focused on the song itself. It was like singing aloud in the middle of a battlefield among the continuous screaming. As much she wants to have a thought about if this what it must have been like for The Beatles she knew when they became popular, she couldn’t as she had to remain focused.
Meanwhile, down below at the base of the windmill, Smolder was scanning about for anypony foolish enough to get too close, and even if they did, she gave a puff of a fireball as a warning before they backed off. The dragoness stood at the only door in or out of the mill, her back against it before the hysterical fans. It wasn’t that she minded doing what was essentially guard duty for her friend, if only they were a little quieter.
Then she noticed a particular fan that was starting to get a little too close. In the light, she saw a chubby looking stallion. A blond unicorn who was light green and had an owl for a cutie mark and a camera in his aura.
“You’re getting too close,” Smolder warned him over the loud music.
But the fan either didn’t hear her or he’d ignored her. Regardless of the reason, she made her presence known by blowing a small fireball. It suddenly got his attention.
“H-Hey!”
“I said you were getting too close.” She said, “Back away.”
“C’mon, I wanna get close enough to get some good shots.”
Smolder looked up for a moment. “At what? You could barely see at this angle.”
“But I’m her number one fan!” He said, “I’ve formed a fan club and everything.”
“You just wanna get in here and interrupt her, do you?” She said dryly.
“No. I just to take a picture with her and get an autograph.”
Smolder shook her head. “I think now is the worst time. I mean she just started playing.”
“So… When can I see her?”
“Maybe after the show,” she shrugged, “but no promises.”
The stallion thought it over for a moment, “Well… if she can’t, then could I at least see her tomorrow?”
The dragoness frowned. “If you’ve made a reservation.”
“She has one of those? Well, my name is Aficionado and-”
“I was joking,” Smolder said sternly, her patients with this fan growing thin. “Now just stay back and try to enjoy the show.”
Dejected, Aficionado backed off just as Ocellus began to sing the next song.
As Ocellus began her next song, Gallus was pulling a cart full of trinkets through the screaming crowd. Mostly necklaces that had a medallion of a beetle in his friend’s colors, glowsticks that were in light blue, and bottles of cheap water.
“Get your genuine, limited edition Beatle necklace, glow stick and water!” He called out over the shouting crowd. “Souvenir, light, and hydration! Right here!”
He felt a tug on his wing and looked over to a dozen mares that he assumed to be his age.
One of them asked, “How much for the necklace?”
“Five bits,” he said, gesturing over, “the glowsticks are ten, and water is a bit.”
“We’ll take twenty.”
A hefty bag was tossed at him, much to his delight while the mares picked up some of the necklaces.
“Hey,” one of them asked, “do any of them come with her face on it?”
“Not yet.” He shrugged. “For now, that’s her symbol.”
“Did she make these herself?”
“Would you buy another if I said yes?” She nodded. “Yes.”
“She sounds so good.” Gallus turned to a stallion who said this, “She should make a record.”
“Ya know,” he told him, “from what I’ve heard, they’re putting together one.”
“Yeah?” This got the attention of the fans within earshot. “When is it coming out?”
The griffon shrugged. “No idea, but I think it should be soon. With probably more on the way.”
“She has more songs?” Another fan asked.
“How many has she made?”
“How did she get so good?”
“Did she have any help writing them?”
Gallus was being overwhelmed by being asked so many questions at once that there was no way for him to answer any of them. It got to the point where he had to put a couple of talons in his beak and blew a loud whistle. They stopped asking questions.
“You done?” He asked. “Look, I’m just a guy selling Beatle’s memorabilia, not her manager. Now do you want any of this stuff or not?”
A minute later, Gallus moved on further into the crowd, making his pitch and pocketing his money. All the while, when he was looking over at the sheer number of fans, he was thinking. There was a part of his reasoning that if more ponies spread the word about his friend than more ponies would want a little something that they’re willing to throw money at them. Perhaps, when the album comes out, he could get her to sign them before turning around and selling them to others. Maybe he could commission someone to make dolls of Ocellus – she was adorable enough that the appeal would probably skyrocket.
‘I wonder if I could start up tours to show ponies around Ponyville, and just point around saying that this is where she came up for this or that song. Hm… nah, that won’t work? What if I sell postcards with her picture on it? Hm… maybe, but wouldn’t they want more than that like a mug or a poster? Or how about I go find a place that makes custom bobble-head dolls…? No, too corny. Oh! I got it! Make life-size cardboard cut-outs. Well, then again, with all these good ideas, maybe I should open up a gift shop just outside of the school.’
‘Goddess, this is torture!’ Ocellus thought to herself after she played about twenty-five minutes of music. It was almost half-an-hour, and already her hindlegs felt they were ready to crumble and fall. Her forehooves went numb after the first four songs she did. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was playing the right notes, or if any of the never-ending wails of the audience understood a word of what she said.
However, despite how tired she was, regardless of how much sweat that was running down from the marathon of a performance, she knew that she was almost there. Just two more songs.
She tapped on the microphone. “Excuse me, everyone? May I have your attention please?” Mercifully, a minute later, the mob of fans has calmed down somewhat for her to speak. “Before this is over, I just wanna say thank you all for coming out here tonight.” There was a shout before she continued. “However, before this can be over, I’m happy to tell all of you that I have been working with the genius songwriters, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, and over the course of twenty-four hours, we were able to come up not one, but two new songs. That means you’re all going to be the first to hear it be performed live.” They shouted in excitement. “So, are we ready to hear them?”
The maddening shrieking gave the answer.
“Okay, first up, is a song called A Hard Day’s Night.”
There were some cheers as Ocellus looked down at the guitar and at the last two buttons that she hadn’t pressed. So, with a strung of chords, she pressed one of the buttons and she began to sing. Perhaps in hindsight, she realized that there was a personal irony to having her sing this. Being worked day and night on this concert, trying to memorize every note of not only the songs she had recorded but the newer ones as well in time. On the one hoof, she hated every moment of being on that stage because of how rushed this all was. She had little time to prepare, and lesser time to get ready. Maybe this was one of the reasons why the original Beatles broke up. Because she couldn’t imagine doing something like this night after night, in city after city. If she did this too often, she might end up snapping.
On the other hoof, she was falling in love with it. A month or so ago, she couldn’t imagine herself of being a kind of rock star, playing music from one of the greatest bands of all time that she was reintroducing the world to. As draining as it was, being ready to almost drop, she could feel the love from the audience that they were freely giving her. She knew that as long as she was on that stage playing, they were there to give her enough energy, just enough to keep her going until the end of each song. While a vicious cycle, something was intoxicating about having a huge audience that was all paying attention to her in the spotlight. At one moment, she thought that as long as stuff like this was done sparingly, she might get used to this.
Within a moment, she got to the point she most difficult part – the riff. A move in which it took Ocellus hours over this deceptively simple solo. Trying as hard as she could to make sure that each note is where it needed to be in the right order at the right time. As much as she was stressing out of making sure she got it right, it was certainly a crowd-pleaser as she could hear the roar, even when the earbuds were still in her ears.
From there, it was easy as she finished out the last verse of the song and ending it smoothly. She sighed in relief. That was one song down. Just one more and then she could collapse somewhere. The Changeling looked out to the crowd, stepping back so that they wouldn’t hear her panting. Giving herself a moment as well as the crowd to settle down just a little before giving them their finale.
When she stepped up to the mic, that without any introduction, she stomped on the last button and burst out the very first word of the song. “HELP!”
Below at the windmill, Smolder looked up as soon as Ocellus said that. At first, she wasn’t sure if her friend was calling out for help or singing. But either way, it certainly got her attention. Although it took her a moment to determine which one, her ears were perked up as she listened to – in her mind at least – Ocellus venting out. She listened to the lyrics closely, and for some reason, there was something genuine about hearing her insecurities on stage. She could hear it in her voice, the sound of annoyance, anxiety, desperation, dread, all coming out of the speakers – pleading for help. It came out in a raw but never appeared as unpleasant to the ear.
‘Goddess, she’s pushing herself too far.’ Smolder thought. ‘She must be stressed out beyond belief up there. I mean, on top of the stuff that’s due at school and this, Ocellus needs to have a break. Maybe I could talk to Headmare Twilight to have her be excused for a day or so before she snaps.’
The dragoness listened to how since Ocellus’s life has changed that she expressed that her independence and security have seemed to have disappeared, that she needs help. Actual help. Perhaps with all the money, they’ve made, they should probably get Ocellus to a place where she could relax. Maybe the local spa could lend a hoof.
Chances are, the rest of her friends are probably thinking of the same thing.
A minute or so later, Ocellus had finished with the song. “That’s all I have everyone, thank you and good night.” The changeling said to the thunderous applause before turning away towards the trap door and wobbling her way down.
Ocellus was greeted by Silverstream and Sandbar, “Well done up there!” Sandbar congratulated her. “That was the best.”
“T-Thanks.” She said, her hooves buckling. “I uh… I need to sit down…”
“You were great up there!” Silverstream told her with a smile. “I can say now that I’m officially a fan-”
Thump!
Ocellus was on the floor. Mercifully the guitar had missed her exhausted body hitting the floor and falling asleep.
“She okay?” McCart asked in concern while Yona and Lemon rushed over.
“I think she really worked herself out,” Dawn said, moving the guitar aside. “I’m surprised her hooves aren’t bleeding.”
“Tell me about it,” Sandbar agreed. “She must be exhausted. We should get her to bed.”
“Put Ocellus on Yona’s back,” the ponies and the hippogriff helped the sleeping Changeling onto the Yak’s back in which her hooves dangled off. “Ocellus worked hard. Ocellus needs rest.”
“I think she’d deserved it.” Dawn nodded. “Maybe a couple of days or so at least.”
“Of course…” Pull pointed out, “We gotta get past all the fans first. At least it’s a good thing we have a dragon to clear the way.”
Apart from going to Octavia’s home to compose with Dawn and Pull a few more songs, Ocellus accepted the proposal from her friends (and even Headmare Twilight) to let her rest for a while. After all, there were assignments that she needed to do before Spring Break. The Changeling gladly appreciated this to finally be able to hang out with her friends again.
Of course, any activities that involved outside of the school property would require the students some elaborate planning, disguises, hidden passageways, and being on the lookout for any fans that may ambush Ocellus if her guard is down. She had worries that maybe once the album comes out, it may make going into town near impossible.
Eventually, it was agreed that Dawn and Pull should be able to come over to the school for their music sessions. Headmare Twilight agreed to lend them the music room to do their recordings as long as they do it after school hours. Of course, during that time, they would have to lock the doors as there were students who were just outside, enthusiastic to hear the next masterpiece in the making.
Then a couple of weeks before Spring Break and Ocellus was packing her bags, Pull and Dawn came to the school with a wrapped present. Before they could enter into the music room, they were confused at the random noises that were leaking out. But as they opened the doors, they saw Ocellus there, along with her friends, holding strange instruments that they’ve never seen before. They saw Yona holding something that was a mix between a Prench horn and an organ. Silverstream sat on the floor with a series of clams in which every tap produced its own note. Smolder on a desk, plucking the strings of the elongated soundbox. Gallus with a fiddle that the two old ponies swear that it had at least ten strings. Sandbar was tapping on a bowl that had several dents and yet producing a tropical tone. Ocellus stood in the middle, listening carefully to each until she noticed the two stallions.
“Pull! Dawn!” She greeted them. “You’re just in time!”
“What are you doin’?” Dawn asked. “This looks and sounds like a school band that had gone sideways.”
“What does that supposed to mean?” Pull questioned.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “It does make me sound all distinguish like.”
The Changeling cleared her throat. “To answer your question, I was thinking,” Ocellus explained, “that while the orchestra is nice in hoof, I figured of probably explore using some other instruments that aren’t traditional. So, I turned to my friends. I think some of these really have potential.”
“Well, before you share,” Pull said, “we have a gift for you.” He presented her to the flat present. “Surprise! This is-”
“Copy number one,” Dawn added before getting a swift hit from Pull. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Spoiling the other surprise.”
Ocellus took hold of the gift and tore off the wrapping paper. In her hooves was a record cover of her. A black-and-white photo of her face in which the light is only showing her left side. Above it was the words: “Here Comes The Beatle” then flipping over, next to the list of songs was something that caught her eye.
Performed by:
- Ocellus
Songs and Lyrics by:
- Dawn Lemon
- Pull McCart
- Forge Hayson
- Ocellus
Song Arrangement and Orchestration by:
- Octavia Melody
“Uh…” She blinked. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
“What are you going on about?” Pull questioned.
“This here,” she pointed, “it has my name for the credits for song and lyrics. That’s gotta be a misprint or something.”
“Not really.” Dawn shrugged. “It doesn’t seem fair to leave you out. Sure, you may be the face that sings this stuff, literally, but you have a hoof in this too. I mean, you’re our muse after all. These songs are just as much yours as they are ours.”
“Obviously.” Pull nodded in agreement. “It’s thanks to you we’re able to crank out these songs so quickly. Without you, we’d be lost.”
“Well sure, but-”
“The point is,” Dawn interrupted the student, “none of us would be here if it weren’t for you. Not just giving our old band a sort of revival, but you’ve taken us to places we didn’t think were possible. Besides, you did something with the music that we haven’t had in a while.”
“What’s that?”
“Fun.” Both stallions said.
“I’d say it is.” Sandbar commented before turning to his friend, “So Ocellus? What are we going to do today? You said you have a surprise announcement or something.”
“Well,” she smiled. “Recently, I’ve begun to develop an idea. Something to do sometime after Spring Break that I would need your guy’s help on.”
“And what’s that?” Smolder asked.
Ocellus smiled excitedly. “Well… I’m planning on doing a… unique sort of concert. Something that is part musical theater and part rock concert. A nonsensical play that’s based on dreams where we can make it as weird and colorful as the music is.”
“I didn’t know music comes in colors,” Silverstream said, earning the eye-rolls of her friends.
“How Ocellus expect friends to do that?” Yona questioned.
“Think of it as an expensive game of mad-libs. First, we come up with the songs and what it’s gonna sound like, then we’ll put together a weird enough story to go along with it.”
“Could be disastrous,” Pull pointed out.
“I don’t know…” Dawn hummed, “Could be fun. Now if only we know where to start.”
Despite all the new sounds from the student’s native instruments and the “suggestions” from Ocellus, neither songwriters nor singer could piece together the right songs. Sure, here they might start with a few lyrics and melodies here and there, but there was a disagreement as to how to go about it. Even Ocellus, who was trying as hard as she could to remember the originals, came out inkblot and lacked focus. Dawn made the fragments too crazy, while Pull made them not crazy enough. Besides, the sounds weren’t what they were looking for.
The Changeling tried to recall all the stranger songs from the Beatles from Tomorrow Never Knows to Luna in the Sky with Diamonds. Despite her best efforts, at the end of the day’s sessions and some unique sounds that they recorded, the group left unsatisfied. Everyone in that music room knew that they have something, but it’s not developed fully to be used for anything.
That night while Ocellus lie awake in her room. Eyes open and towards the blank ceiling.
‘There’s got to be a way to do this.’ She thought. ‘Some of the most iconic songs of all time are just at the tip of our tongues, and yet, none of us have any idea what they’re supposed to sound like. How did they do it?
‘Sure, I know for a fact that drugs were involved with the original songs at some point, but… there’s no possible way that would work now. Forget the fact that I have no idea where to get hallucinates and even if I did, I would risk getting expelled from school – but I don’t know if they would get the same hallucinations that inspired them to begin with. How do I reconstruct that musical landscape that influenced the drug culture of the sixties… without using them?’
In bed, she meditated the problem for what felt like an eternity. Now and then, fragments of lyrics would float through her head. Here, a mentioning of marmalade skies, there something about a field where nothing’s real. Then something about a Yellow Submarine, and there the whispers of a Mr. Kite.
Suddenly, it hit her as if the ceiling had collapsed in on her. She sat up with a realization. Most of the songs she was trying to recall are surreal. Super weird in lyrics and soundscape. Ocellus realized that there might be one being in existence that could in one way or another piece these lost songs together. It was so simple actually.
A solution that had a name.
The young Changeling knew that while Discord tends to appear and disappear randomly at different times and places, there was one sure way to be able to find the Ex-Spirit of Chaos. She had heard from Professor Fluttershy that Discord comes around for tea once or twice in class. So that afternoon she went straight to the cottage in hopes that she could talk to him during their tea party.
“So, let me get this sideways,” Discord said, sucking his tea through a straw into his ear. “You want my help to reconstruct a couple of songs that were meant to be written decades ago but haven’t, make them as psychedelic as possible, for the result is to inspire you and some old geezers?”
Ocellus nodded her head. “Pretty much. It was either that or find some drugs. But I think the risk for the latter would be too great.”
“And rightfully so,” Fluttershy commented, “concerning our school policy against it. Still, I am surprised that you needed Discord’s help.”
“What can I say, Professor? I didn’t have much of a choice. But at the same time…” Ocellus said, pulling out a tape recorder, “I do want to carry out a test.”
Discord raised an eyebrow. “Involving what?”
“There is something that I’m really curious about. Professor Fluttershy said once that you come from another dimension entirely, right?”
“So?”
“Well, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I was hoping if you could do me this one favor.”
“Involving what?” Fluttershy asked.
“Can you step into your home dimension for a good ten or so minutes and record the sounds that come from there. I don’t want you to talk, but just let the microphone listen to whatever goes on over there.”
“Well I don’t see what this would accomplish,” Discord said, taking the tape recorder in his tail, “but as it so happens, I do need to run home really quick to fetch some sugar. After all, we’re almost out.”
“And while you’re out,” Fluttershy added, “could you bring some more of those cucumber sandwiches?”
Discord saluted. He then tore a hole in the fabric of reality, pressed record on the device and stepped right through. A second later he came back with a loaf made out of sugar and a tray of sandwiches.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Ocellus objected, “You weren’t gone long.”
“Time gets complicated back home.” He handed over the tape recorder back. “Here you go, a good half-an-hour of the natural sounds of my dimension.”
“You mind if I…?”
“Well I don’t see where you’re going with this,” Discord told her, sitting back down and teacup in his lion’s paw. “Although I’d probably rewind it first.”
“…. Actually.” Ocellus mused, “Not a bad idea.” She pressed play on the tape recorder before pushing the rewind button. For a moment, the sounds of their backward voices were heard before something caught her hears. In the first couple of minutes, she heard the familiar soundscape that sounded something like Tomorrow Never Knows. And then, the Changeling gasped, nearly dropped the recorder when she heard from its speaker: “Number Nine…” Being repeated over and over before giving way to other alien sounds.
‘You have got to be kidding me!’ Ocellus thought, ‘Discord, probably forgotten about The Beatles too, has recorded Revolution Nine! And boy does it sound just as weird as the day I heard it.’
Then her ears perked up when she heard Discord snapping along to the absence of rhythm. “Hey,” he said, “this isn’t that bad!”
“Um…” Professor Fluttershy thought for a moment of how to put her thoughts about what she was hearing the nicest way as possible. “I think it might be to… sophisticated for my tastes. Sorry.”
Ocellus listened carefully to the sound and nonsense of the tape, trying to find any bits that were familiar to her. Here the madding sounds of a carnival; there the uneasiness of a clock screaming, the strange broadcasts from a radio show, laughter from someone, a chant for someone to run this way; then suddenly a mellow college of backward melodies. These were a few of what she heard as the tape was played backward.
Suddenly she stopped. “Discord, I need to ask one more favor from you.”
“You know,” Dawn Lemon remarked. “I have done some rather strange things when I was young. Traveled the world a bit, did some strange artwork. But this, hooves down, has got to the weirdest by far.”
“I don’t see the point of us standing right here in a field full of strawberries.” Pull looked around. They were on the side of a hill where a wild strawberry patch was growing. Apart from Ocellus holding a picnic basket filled with cheese sandwiches. “So why exactly are we here again?”
“Well, given how none of us has come to any agreement with the songs, I’ve decided to get someone who may give us some… inspiration.”
“Should I be worried?” Dawn questioned her. “I may not know many Changelings, but coming from you, it seems a little sketchy.”
“Who exactly are we to expect?” Pull asked. “All morning long, you’ve been keeping that a secret from us. And really, it’s starting to get on my nerves.”
In the distance, a clocktower chimed twelve.
“Welp! No mystery guest.” Dawn got up, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting sick of waiting about.”
“Me too.” Pull protested. “I like surprises as the next bloke, but what exactly are we doing in the middle of nowhere with a picnic basket full of sandwiches? You promised inspiration and we’re just wasting time!”
“Uh… Pull?” Dawn began.
“What!” He snapped at him.
“Is it me or are those strawberries over there starting to dance.” He looked over to Pull and Ocellus, eyes wide at what they were seeing. “Oh good, it’s not just me.”
What they saw coming from up the hill was something that they could barely register. At the very bottom of the hill, wild strawberries have grown several times their size, suddenly sprouting limbs and dancing about with their stems still attached. Not only that, but the rows of trees at the very bottom were shimmering like a mirage where the moving branches turned butter yellow and the leaves turned to opals.
Before any of them could ask if they were hallucinating, something very large and bulky approached them, seeming to carry the insanity along with him. What Pull and Dawn saw was what they could describe as a bus. Or at least… it looked like a bus. The body of it resembled that of a large covered wagon from the cities, only that it was covered in splashes of paint in every hue and color imaginable – as well as unimaginable. Nothing was pulling it, for where the wheels would be, there were instead hundreds, perhaps thousands of legs moving it along. And there at the driver’s seat was a thin, tall creature made up of different body parts, wearing a plump purple suit, bottle green pants, white gloves, and a tall top hat.
The bus stopped next to them, and they noticed that there were words on the sides that seemed to resemble every font and not at the same time. Sometimes the words camouflage well with the eye-sore of a paint job, while at other times it was clear and crisp. The words as best as any of them could determine was: Magical Mystery Tour Bus.
“Hop right on!” Discord said, “If you got the cheese, we got ourselves a tour!”
“Tour?” Pull blinked. “What tour?”
“Can’t you read?” He pointed at the side of the bus. “I’m the destined driver into the strange, the odd, the weird and the what-am-I-looking-ats. Come aboard and pay your cheddar, the tour is about to begin!”
“Thanks for doing this, Mr. Discord.” Ocellus said, flying up to him with the basket of sandwiches. He opened the lid, inspecting carefully of the contents before nodding.
“All aboard!”
“Is this that fella you were talking about?” Dawn asked.
“Yep! And he’s going to help us tremendously with those tricky songs.”
“How long’s the tour?” Pull inquired.
“Unless you get on,” Discord told him, “you may never know.”
Both old stallions looked at one another. With a shrugged, Dawn remarked, “You know what? I got nothing better to do.”
One Magical Mystery Tour Later…
“…. And that’s the end of the tour.” Discord said, pulling the bus up to Dawn’s house. Looking over his shoulder, he and Ocellus turned to the other two stallions who, at the moment, could only be described as broken. The two of them sat there, with a perplex expression fixed on their faces, complete with wide eyes, and jaws hanging loose. Discord turned to the Changeling, “Too much?”
“No… At least I don’t think so,” Ocellus replied. “It was certainly… unforgettable. Something I don’t think any of us will be doing anytime soon.”
“Hey,” Discord smiled, “if you wanna have a tour of my home dimension again, just ask.”
“Okay, so can you-” before Ocellus could finish her request, Discord had snapped his talons, to which Pull and Dawn had popped over to the steps of the house, their expressions remained unchanged.
After bidding Discord goodbye, Ocellus went to check up on the two. “So… are you both still there?” They nodded. “Do you think that what we saw might help with the songs we’re doing?” They double nodded. “And are you two going to be okay?”
“Yeah…” Pull said, his voice was soft but still shocked.
“So… Should we meet up tomorrow?”
“As long as… he doesn’t come by,” Dawn answered in the same manner as Pull.
“Alright. I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow then.” With a wave, she left.
The two old stallions remain seated on the front steps. Neither of them made any movements for hours until the sun started to set. Finally, Dawn spoke up.
“Hey Pull?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember when I told you that I used to experiment when I was younger?”
“I do. Did it come close to what we just saw?”
There was a long pause between them before Dawn made his answer.
In hindsight, having Starlight be more or less a chaperone around the borders of Equestria made the most sense to Ocellus. Not only will she be able to get around across vast distances in a much shorter amount of time, but next to Twilight, she has several spells that could be used in self-defense if the occasion calls for it. Besides, the only way for Ocellus’s parents to agree for their daughter to go on this short but no doubt risky tour is with an adult nearby.
Not that the Changeling mind, after all, if this music was going to be revived, she would have to travel to distant places and try to get it out to as many ears as possible. Of course, she would have to simplify her luggage, carrying only the essential instruments she would need from going north to south. Luckily, she was prepared and was ready to sing the last-minute songs that she, along with Pull and Dawn put together.
“So, are we ready?” Starlight asked. She and Ocellus were outside of the school with bundles of their luggage about them.
Ocellus nodded. “I believe I have everything I needed here. Yours?”
“Defiantly. Luckily for me, I have learned from the mistakes the last time I have gone traveling. But I do have a question though. How come your friends Dawn and Pull aren’t coming?”
“I think they deserve a break. After all the stuff we went through with Discord alone and the hurricane of songs that we’ve tried to piece together, I thought that maybe it’s best to stop composing for a bit to breathe.”
“Well, that’s thoughtful of you.” Starlight smiled.
“And before we go anywhere, how exactly would this long teleportation work for us? I can only imagine that going from one end of the world to the next must take a huge amount of energy.”
“Well yes, as long as I don’t overstrain myself, we should be fine. Although I may need several hours, possibly a day to recharge since it’s not just you and me that are being teleported, but all of this stuff.” She waved a hoof at the suitcases, supplies, and equipment. “We may have to use other modes of getting around if we have to. But regardless of what happens, just remember that I’m here to make sure that nothing happens to you. Otherwise, I’d be in huge trouble. Now then,” she opened up one of the suitcases to pull out some heavy winter coats, “I suggest that you put these on. Since we’re heading to Yakyakistan first, I figured that we have these on before we head off.”
So, after taking a moment to put on and button up the coats, Starlight told her to hold on before her horn glowed brightly and like that, they were gone.
There was a blinding flash, and the next thing the blinking Ocellus knew, she felt something cold on her hooves before her eyes could adjust. Awkwardly standing, she waited a moment register where in the world she was. In every direction were tall, jagged mountains covered in countless layers of snow. About a minute or so later, she registered that they were at the bottom of a valley, and on top of a hill was a tall, wooden fortress with two Yak carved statues standing at attention before a door.
“Starlight?”
“Right here.” Ocellus looked over and couldn’t help but giggle to find her adult supervisor being buried up to her head in the snow. Then after climbing out from the snowbank and taking out whatever luggage that was buried, Starlight inquired: “So Ocellus, if you don’t mind of me asking, out of all the places to go on tour, especially during Spring Break, why here?”
Taking up her things in her magic and starting their walk up the steep hill, Ocellus said, “Because of two reasons: firstly, because Yona told me that Yakyakistan is becoming curious about music outside their borders. She said that if there was any better way to introduce them to it, I’m probably the best choice.”
“Okay, and the second?”
“Well… I may or may not have a song about Yakyakistan that I think they will like.”
“Here’s a tip, Ocellus, anytime you say, ‘I may or may not,’ you’ve obviously had.”
Several minutes later of climbing up the cliff-like trail, they came to the imposing doors of Yakyakistan that were open ajar. Even before Ocellus could look inside, she had expected that the icy city-state would be populated by the proud Yaks that, as far as her friend told her, wasn’t that crowded. However, she was confused that half-way-up, she heard loud chatter. Then, as soon as she and Starlight got a good look at Yakyakistan, they stood there in shock.
Not because the walled city was empty – quite the opposite! Beyond its doors there was a confusion of Yaks, Ponies, Crystal Ponies, even Griffons scrambling about that had a common theme at a glance. Walking into the enormous double doors she saw shirts, trinkets, posters, even records that were all about one thing: The Beatle. In every direction, there was her picture, along with the symbol of a beetle in her colors.
“Look! There she is!” Someone cried.
“Oh, crap.” Ocellus said before a screaming mob came stomping towards her.
Thinking quickly, Starlight summoned up a shield spell, encased them in a bubble and lifting them off the ground. All around, even in the air by the pegasi and Griffons, they were surrounded by fans with the zeal of hungry zombies.
“Where did they come from!” Starlight looked over to Ocellus, “I thought that this was going to be small.”
“It was!” And as far as Ocellus was aware, it was supposed to be. Of course, through Twilight’s help, she did manage to send letters as north as Yakyakistan to the Hippogriff Kingdom asking them permission to perform. Of course, she was granted that permission. However, she had expected that she would be performing to a local audience. That the gigs would be small affairs to song those iconic songs towards in order to grow.
What happened next, the two of them in the bubble thought that they were witnessing an earthquake. Ponies on the ground found that they could not stand as the huts nearby vibrated and chipped apart. But just as quickly they realized that the shaking was actually a series of stomps. The Yaks were trying to get their attention.
“Enough!” Out of the dying excitable cries, there was a figure that was pushing his way through. “Guest should not attack musician. Yaks thought Ponies and Griffons acted better!”
The shield that Starlight was holding up levitated over towards the yak that spoke. “I take it you’re Prince Rutherford?”
He nodded. “Yak thought this would be simple music performance. Yak did not expect home to be overrun by ponies.”
“Wait,” Ocellus asked, “you didn’t invite them?”
The prince parted a part of his mane for him to see. “Changeling didn’t?”
“Now hold on,” Starlight asked, disbursing the shield spell. “If you didn’t invite them,” she pointed to the Prince, “and you didn’t invite them,” she pointed to the student before pointing at herself, “and don’t look at me, this isn’t my idea either… so who did?” Immediately she turned to a nearby fan, “You, how did you know she was playing here?”
“Didn’t you know?” a mare asked, “I’ve heard it from a griffon.”
“A griffon?”
“Yeah. Blue, about this big, has a gift shop outside of the School of Friendship.”
“You mean Gallus?” Ocellus blinked. “But I didn’t…”
“Ooooh… I really needed this.” Ocellus said as her back was being messaged.
It was the day after the windmill concert and thanks to some connections, the Changeling and her friends had found themselves at the local spa.
“This feels like home.” Silverstream commented at a nearby table, with a spa pony rubbing her hooves over her back.
“You have spa’s?” Ocellus asked.
“One of the perks of being related to royalty.” She replied, “Especially if you ask my aunt really nicely.”
“Ya know,” they turned their attention to Gallus, in a white fuzzy robe and a turban towel on his head, “maybe we should come here more often. After all, with all those bits that have been made last night, we probably have enough to come here once a week for a year.”
“Sure, but I didn’t realize that it would be this stressful.” Ocellus commented. “Especially knowing that this won’t be the last.”
“What are you talking about?” Silverstream inquired.
“Well I have to worry about Spring Break.” She said, “I going to need some help writing letters to places like Yakyakistan, Appaloosa, maybe Manehattan, the Hippogriff Kingdom… To be honest, I still need to figure that out on top of the assignments and essays that need to be written up.”
“Yeah?” Gallus asked, a claw to his beak, “And are you going to be playing there during Spring Break?”
“Well I am going to try to perform at Yakyakistan and the Hippogriff Kingdom for sure.”
“What’s in Yakyakistan?” Silverstream questioned, “And why would you want to go there during Spring Break?”
“Because… I have an idea for a song that I think they should hear first.”
Ocellus blinked after she realized the screw-up she made. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Yakyakistan in chaos!” The Prince told them. “So much Ponies and Griffons that Yaks might as well be invaded by them. Not enough food to go around. Not enough shelter. And not enough toilets either.”
“We are so sorry for this, Prince Rutherford,” Starlight said with a bow, “if you want us to leave than-”
“I think I need to sing now.”
Both Yak prince and unicorn turned to the Young Changeling. “What?” They asked at once.
“This is my fault that Yakyakistan ended up like this.” She told them. “And by the looks of it, they’re not gonna go away until I sing for them. So, the sooner I start, the quicker you’ll have… well… my fans out of your hair, so to speak, Prince Rutherford.” She bowed. “Now, where was I going to perform?”
“Ideally, in Music Hut.” He pointed over to a tiny thatched hut.
Ocellus shook her head. “It’s not going to be big enough to house everyone… Unless…” She turned around towards the gate of Yakyakistan. “That valley we came across… It should have more than enough room… And the valley was bowl-shaped…” Her eyes widened. “I got an idea!” Spreading her wings, she flew up in the air and yelling as loud as she could, she called out: “EVERYCREATURE! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!” Everyone’s eyes were on her. “SO DID ALL OF YOU COME ALL THIS WAY TO HEAR ME SING?”
They called out that they did.
“DO YOU ALL WANT ME TO SING NOW TO GET OUT OF THIS COLD?”
Of course, they did.
“WELL, I GOT SOME GOOD NEWS FOR ALL OF YOU! IN HALF-AN-HOUR, I WILL BE SINGING OVER AT THE GATE OF YAKYAKISTAN! I STILL HAVE SOME THINGS TO DO BUT GO OVER INTO THE VALLEY OVER THERE AND WE CAN GET THIS CONCERT STARTED! DOES THAT SOUND LIKE A PLAN!?”
There were cheers of joy as the fans vibrated out of the village.
Ocellus has to give the Yaks credit when faced with a difficult situation, the entire city-state as a whole would come together to invent a solution to preserve themselves. And given the overcrowding and the… pollution that the fans had left behind, they all knew that they will not go away until all of them could hear the Changeling’s music. Because if not all of them could hear her… well… they fear the worst may come.
Which was way that just outside of the city gates, the pulled together a system of horns that act as a massive megaphone. It worked so well, that even a whisper into this contraption could be heard from whoever was on the other side of the valley. And given the equipment that Ocellus had brought along, this was essentially very good news.
Standing before the lake of her audience, a guitar in her hoof and the row right below her, she approached the mouthpiece. “Good afternoon Yakyakistan! Are you all ready to rock!” Her audience cheered loudly. “That’s good to hear because, at the very end of this, I have a brand-new song for this occasion. But before we can get to that, let’s start off with something fun, shall we?” Cheering still, she looked down for a moment at her instrument, making sure that her hooves were on the right chords and near the other mouthpiece for them to hear. “Let’s start with ‘Can’t Buy Me Love.’”
Her audience screamed at the name, so she, in turn, sang with as much excited energy as the crowd and stopped on the first button.
As she sang, she started to notice that the ground was starting to shake to the beat of the song. It didn’t take long to figure out where it was coming from. Near the front row where she was playing, there were lines of young Yaks that were stomping in a dancing frenzy. It wasn’t strong enough to throw Ocellus off balance, but she could feel that they were keeping time to the drumbeat.
Even in the snow, her audience had started to dance in the lake of moving and swaying bodies that waved their limbs and cascade over one another. It was, in Ocellus’s eyes, an impression of a sea of color in a storm. Chaotic as it is, the way the audience moved with the melody, in how they twist, turn, shout, and stomp was in perfect harmony of one another. It was surreal to the Changeling that she was the one that’s conducting this surreal impression of color, bodies, and frenzied souls with nothing more than her voice and a guitar.
While she played on, singing the song from memory, she looked further into the detail of her audience. Here, there were young Yaks who stomped in joy of seeing her. There, a griffin was dancing with another in the air. In the corner, a blond, chubby stallion with a camera was taking pictures. And in the very back, a group of fans had put together a series of signs, each one that had a large, capitalized letter and holding them up to spell:
THE BEATLE FOR LIFE!
On top of all this, Ocellus felt that she was being smothered in love from every direction. A melting pot of flavors that was on her tongue every time she opened her mouth. There was a split thought that if Chrysalis was smart in the past, she could easily have gained more love than what anyling would do with simply by being a musician. In a song alone, there was a feast of love that could back in the day sustain the hive for a year.
But she couldn’t think too hard on that.
For now, she had a concert to sing.
The cold, bitter air was welcoming, yet a hard gift on her lungs. Going through one song after another for about half-an-hour was like running up Mt. Everhoof in her slippers. While difficult the task, she was almost through with her task. Still, there was one last song to do.
After taking a brief moment to get a drink of water and switching her guitar, she turned to her audience. “I promised a new song for you, didn’t I?” They cheered mindlessly. “Well, since I had planned on going on this small tour, especially to Yakyakistan first, I thought it would be nice to sing a song about it. Well, thanks to the brilliant songwriters of Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, we came up with the perfect song. I hope you guys like it. It’s called, Back in Yakyakistan.”
So she immediately got right to it with a quick buildup of low chords which build up louder and louder among the now deafening audience. And then, she sang.
What came out of her voice was a raw, passionate energy that echoed out throughout the valley. At that moment it was as if all the good elements of rock-and-roll with all its energy, with the subtle chord progression of classical music, the result of that final song was magical. From the young Yaks, it was as if they had finally found the music they wanted to hear. From the other fans, it was thrilling to listen to Ocellus push her vocals to ever greater limits as she was giving everything she got.
To the rocking beat, even the very ground had shaken as if it was experiencing an earthquake. So much so, that during the shaking, Ocellus had to take flight to keep herself off the ground to the bouncing microphones just to keep herself study. She concentrated hard among the discordant screams of the fans and tried as hard to stay on tempo, on the beat. Fortunately, the repeated Thump! Thump! Thump! that was, a strange way, helped her like a metronome.
She got to the part of the song where she praised those Yak mares that blow her away by leaving the south behind. Of how those ladies are on her mind in the coda. Below her, there were shouts and cheers of both sexes, she could have sworn that she saw one of the larger females’ faint, squishing a few ponies underneath. Still, she continued.
After she has gotten through the last verse, she decided that she wasn’t done yet. Right where the original song ended, with the three-note “Woo ooo ooo.” She repeated this over to where some of the audience started to catch on. “Sing it with me!” Ocellus cried out as the three-note chant repeated growing louder with her guitar. It grew, and grew, forward, behind, left, right, above and below, the chant of raw excitement became louder before Ocellus exploded with the final lyrics in how glad to be back in Yakyakistan.
Playing the final chord, she pump her hoof in the air and screamed: “THAT’S ALL I HAVE, THANK YOU YAKYAKISTAN!” The crowd screamed back. Satisfied, Ocellus took a bow.
Immediately, among the loudest of cheers from her audience, she turned and galloped back through the city gates. To her surprise, the local Yaks too were applauding by stomping on their hooves, especially the elders that showed their approval.
“Very clever.” Prince Rutherford said as he approached her, “Last song had traditional Yak chant, and Changeling used it appropriately too.”
“Chant?” She blinked. “What chant?”
“The chant of joy. It is simple chant, but Changeling places it in song, good touch.”
“So I take it you liked the music?”
There was a loud mutter all around.
The Prince laughed, “Changeling music, not as good as Yak music is still pretty good. But last song Changeling sing was best.”
“Well, thank you.” She bowed. Ocellus took noticed that near one of the huts, Starlight still looked exhausted from having to perform a few energy-draining magic. “Prince Rutherford, if it’s appropriate, is it possible to ask you a favor?”
He solemnly nodded. “Depends, what is Changeling request?”
“If you can’t, I understand but… is it possible to get me and Starlight to the Crystal Empire as quickly as possible? I still feel bad for what had happened this morning, and I figure that the sooner I leave, the sooner you’ll have all the uh… unwanted tourists out of your manes.”
The Prince parted his mane so that he could look at her, “Consider it done. Yaks know short cut. While they go through old road, you shall go through secret path. Prince will be sure to give escorts for your safe passage.”
“Thank you, Prince Rutherford.”
So after quickly packing up their things and the equipment, Ocellus and her chaperone were on their way with an armed escort. Around the frantic audience and down towards the shining Empire.
Later that night, Starlight walked out from a much-needed shower. Thanks to Ocellus’s popularity and her connections, she had managed to get a few rooms at the Crystal Palace. Although the Crystal Empire was not their destinations, it was a merciful stop between Yakyakestan and where they’re planning on going next. For now, however, she was in the process of drying herself off.
A thought came to her that maybe she should go check on Ocellus to see if she’s doing alright. So, after she was done, she went to the room next door to hers and knocked. “Ocellus? Hey, you doing okay?”
But there was no reply.
She knocked again. “Ocellus?” Putting a hoof on the handle, she noticed found that it was unlocked. After she opened it, the room was empty. On the bed, however, she spotted an open guitar case. “Where did you go?” she said aloud.
Starlight spent a good half-hour looking for the student, asking the servants and guards if they had seen her. They pointed towards the barracks that housed the Crystal Guards. This made her curious, what is Ocellus doing over there? She went through the hallways and down staircases, and at one point, she could swear that she heard singing. Like a choir of voices that hauntingly sang in the echoes of the Palace.
At last, she reached it; and through the doorway were not only the guards that had gathered around Ocellus who was standing on a table but even random servants. Here and there, maids and hoofcolts gathered around the Changeling just in time for Starlight to hear that they were singing along with Ocellus at the end of one of her songs.
She paused when they applauded.
“Another!” Someone cried out.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Ocellus said, her back against the open door where Starlight can see her. “I think it’s getting late and I…” All around her, there were pitiful, begging moans for her to stay just a little longer. “Well… Just one more song, alright? One more and I need to head to bed.” There was an agreeable murmur. “Okay, so what song haven’t we done yet?”
“Oh! Oh!” A maid raised her hoof, jumping in excitement. “Do Eight Days a Week!”
“Alright, alright!” Ocellus said before a wave of suggestions could say otherwise. “Does everyone know this one?”
There was laughter. “It’s practically an anthem for us,” one of the guards joked.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She said before she starts strumming her guitar. “This is Eight Days a Week.”
Ocellus started to string out the first few bars before they began to sing. They were loud enough that they drowned out her voice, and yet, it seemed that the young Changeling didn’t mind. Through the doorway, Starlight saw a comradery out of this love song. Standing there, she saw the tired faces on all of them, a sign from a hard day’s work. From the guard that had to stand in place for hours to the maids that were down low scrubbing floors until they shine like mirrors, it was as if everyone in that room could relate to that song.
It suddenly occurred to Starlight why Ocellus was here. She was, at least briefly, giving the staff here a good enough time to relax and sing songs. That out from a monotonous life, she is providing them with lively music that had joy in every bar. How they sang together, clop their hooves together to the beat, all of them living in that moment of that last song. And she noticed this with Ocellus that compared to the concert from this morning, this single room with all of the palace staff was the happiest place in the world.
Ocellus watched Vanhoover slowly disappear from the train they rode on. At this moment of the tour, she and Starlight were heading southwest. In the dining car, dinner was being served while the young Changeling sat next to the window.
“I take it you have something on your mind?” Starlight asked, snapping the student out from her daze.
“Huh?”
“You haven’t touched your food.” She pointed out the baked potato soup that was going cold.
“Sorry, yeah, I was just thinking.”
“About?”
Ocellus took a moment to taste the soup to find that it was unseasoned. “Well, we are making really good time, earlier than I expected. So, I was wondering about something.” Starlight inquired what that was. “We’re not too far away from the Silver Saddle Retirement community.”
Starlight tilted her head, “Is there someone you know that lives there?”
“Yes, one of Pull and Dawn’s friends that were in their old band. Ever heard of Mango Star?”
She shrugged, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh… Well, he was their drummer, and since I became popular, we made sure that he got a share of the royalties because I’m singing one of their songs and all.”
“I see, you want to stop by to see how he’s doing.”
“Well yeah. I haven’t heard much from him in months, so hopefully, he’s doing-”
“Excuse me,” Starlight interrupted, but she was talking to one of the staff in uniform, “how long is it until we reached the Silver Saddle Retirement community?”
“You mean the one near Seaward Shoals? It’s the next couple of stops that’s an hour-and-a-half from now… I think.”
“Thank you.” Starlight returned back to Ocellus. “You know if what you said is true and… what’s his name?”
“Mango.”
“Right, if Mango is also getting a share from this whole music thing, something tells me that he’s doing fine.”
By the time they made their stop, it was freshly past sunset and the two of them had just gotten off the train. Much to Ocellus’s relief, there wasn’t a mob of fans insight. If anything, it looked as if no one expected her to be there. Not that she was complaining as at after hours of either listing to the relentless clickity-clack of the train or singing to screaming fans, it was soothing to have peace and quiet.
They arrived when lampposts were being lit and the houses nearby had a glow through their windows. Between them and the town, they spotted the retirement community. Starlight had reasoned that given how late it was, visiting hours would most likely be over by now so they’ll have to come back in the morning. In the meantime, they should go into town to find a room for the night.
Along the way, the sandy path they walked on weaved this way and that until it got close enough to be near the retirement home. But before they could pass along, Ocellus’s ears perked up. She stopped, and Starlight noticed that she wasn’t following her.
“Ocellus?” She looked over her shoulder, “What’s wrong?”
“Listen.” She said, “Do you hear that?”
Pausing, Starlight took a moment to hear between the seagulls and the nearby sea, there was a distant sound of applause. “Hear what?”
Ocellus raised a hoof, listening intestinally, “I think I heard something.”
“So?”
“It sounds just like…” Her eyes widened. “No way…” She walked off the path and towards Silver Saddle.
“Ocellus?” Starlight went after her, “Where are you going?”
The student didn’t answer at first. Her ears guided her towards one of the lit buildings. And as she got closer, she could hear a couple of guitars, a bass, a drum set, and some very, very familiar voices.
She followed it to a small building that inside were dozens of old ponies having a slow dance. But what made her stop, however, was that in one of the windows she saw four ponies on stage. She knew who they were. At the two microphones, Pull McCart at one with bass while Dandelion Hayson and Dawn Lemon at the other with their guitars. In the back of the group was Mango at the drums. Ocellus couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. Although three of the quartet were old, and their voices have aged, it was still… them. It was as if The Beatles had come back. For a moment, she wanted to believe it, however, the spectacle filled her with questions.
“Ocellus,” Starlight caught up with her, “you shouldn’t just gallop off like that.”
“It’s them.” She pointed, “McCart and Lemon are here!”
“What?” She looked through the window. “Huh… What are they doing here?”
Ocellus went over towards the entrance and found a sign that read: Monday Night Dance Party – Live Music with The Shoes. She got a chuckle out of that inside joke. Looking up through the open double doors, she really paid attention to not only the song but to everything inside the room as well. It was decorated in the same way one would for a high school dance with colorful streamers, a disco ball, balloons, and a punchbowl. The clothing that they had on looked like it belonged to another time, another decade before the Changeling was conceived. While the mares had on bright colorful dresses, the stallions had on their best suits.
Then, she paid attention to the music. Although she knew it well and sang it a couple of times, the song choice was the most poignant. It was In My Life, a song about the past, of those that came before, of those that remained. In this short song, especially coming from the creators who are themselves facing old age, reminiscing about a past that was – and could have been. It hit Ocellus hard of not only what the words of the lyrics were, but by who they were being sung by. There was something cruelly poetic about what she was witnessing.
At the end of their song, they bowed to polite applause and then the band noticed Ocellus across from them.
“Well, what do you know!” Dawn hopped off the stage and went over towards her, “Hey, get a look at this!”
“Ocellus?” Pull got down and followed Dawn towards the door. “Well fancy seeing you here in the middle of nowhere. What are you doin’? I thought you went on tour or somethin’.”
“I am,” Ocellus answered, giving each of them a hug. “But I’m early so I thought I come to see how Mango was doing and-”
“‘Ere! Mango!” Dawn called out.
“What?” The stallion by the drums called out.
“Have you met Ocellus here?”
“Once. Why?”
“She wants ta know how you doin’.”
Mango laughed as he and Dandelion got off and went to meet up with her. “How I’m doin’?” Mago asked, “Thanks to this young lady, we have more money than we know what to do with!”
“It’s good to see you again,” Dandelion said, shaking her hoof, “I must say, thank you so much for what you’ve done for us. I now have more than enough funds; I can finally put together that album for my own band.”
“Well, considering that I’m only singing theirs,” she nodded to Dawn and Pull, “and your dad’s songs, we thought that it seemed fair.”
“Oh! That reminds me, I heard your album.”
“Yeah? And what did you think?”
He shrugged, “I thought that it was okay, but then you sang one of my dad’s songs.”
“Something.”
“Uh-huh, you know, growing up, I heard my parents sing that on their anniversary. Every year, he gets out the guitar and they sing that because it was their song. Listening to you, I think you might have made my dad proud of that.”
Starlight cleared her throat, getting their attention. “Not that I’m against this reunion, but I am curious about something. Mr. McCart, Mr. Lemon, Ocellus told me that you gave you two a break, so why are you here?”
“Well it’s quite simple,” Lemon said, “after spending several weeks working up a storm, Pull and I were feeling nostalgic. Now that things were going well, we wanted to see how things are with Mango. But just as we did, we run into Dandelion whose here for the same reason we have. So, we visited Mango. Turns out, since he’s become the richest pony at this retirement home, he thought that maybe he should give the drums a try again. Since tonight was this place’s dance night, we thought that we should play for old time’s sake.”
“I never realized how much I would miss doing this.” Pull remarked, “It’s been ages since we played in a band. I had forgotten how fun it used to be.”
“So wait,” Ocellus held up a hoof. “Does this mean that you’re getting the old band back together?”
They laughed.
“Oh Goddesses, no!” Mango waved his hooves. “This is only for tonight. They were short on musicians and we stepped in. Besides, the way you’re doing the old songs, we’d figure that you’re better at it than we are.”
“At least you have a good singing voice, young lady.” Lemon nodded, “I don’t know about you, but I thought I sounded bloody awful up there.”
“Hey! Since you’re here,” Mango went up to her, face to face, “I thought I ask you something.”
“Yeah…?”
“You know how you’re letting Pull and Dawn do songwriting and helping you record?” She nodded, “I figured that maybe I should help out a bit too.”
“As what?” Dandelion questioned.
“Well, why not as a drummer?”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Pull questioned, “I mean, your alright tonight, but you said so yourself that you’re out of practice.”
“Says the ponies that haven’t picked up a guitar in years and coming up with one smash hit after another.” Mango turned back to Ocellus, “So what do you say? Need a drummer?”
Ocellus hummed in thought. “If I said yes, is it possible for you to come to Ponyville?”
Mango laughed, “I’m a millionaire now! I can come by in a blimp if I wanted. I’ll even bring along me own drum set if need ta.”
She smiled, “Considering all the projects that I have in mind, maybe it’s best to get all the help I could get so,” she offered her hoof, “yes, you can help with us.”
He shook it.
Ocellus turned to Dandelion, “What about you? Do you want to join in?”
He shook his head, “Don’t get me wrong, I respect you as an artist, and for bring my dad’s music back. But I’m not him. And I’m already in a band of my own. I have them to worry about. So, I’ll have to pass on this.”
“You’re missing out,” Mango said.
“I doubt it.”
Of course, that night Ocellus had to give them her plans in that she has to complete her tour before they could get back to songwriting again. Mango said that he’ll get himself prepared and promises that he’ll be in Ponyville by the time she gets back. The next morning, she bid them goodbye before departing on the train, heading westward towards her next destination.
The Hive.
After the train had reached as far westward that it could go, it was then Starlight’s turn to transport them and their things over to the Hive. Out of all the places on the tour that Ocellus herself was looking forward to, especially sharing this music with, it was at her home. Soon, she was about to introduce that music for the first time.
Starlight popped them across the Wandering Woods and they stood outside of the garden-like Hive. Ocellus breathed deeply, “It’s so good to be back home.”
“Before we go… any further,” Starlight said, catching her breath, “Did you let… slip about being… here?”
She shook her head. “If I remember right, I only mentioned a few places, but the Hive wasn’t one of them. Still, I can’t wait to play for them.”
“What are they… doing?” At first, Ocellus didn’t know what Starlight was referring to until she looked in her direction. There at the top of the stone, moss-covered pillar, there were a few Changelings that were putting up a banner. They watched for a moment as they tied one end, then the other, and displaying it fully was a message that only two words:
Welcome Ocellus
Starlight, now getting the wind back into her lungs smiled, “Looks like they’re looking forward to you as well.”
“That’s so sweet of them,” Ocellus grinned, her wings buzzed in delight.
“Well let’s get going,” Starlight said. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting. They picked up their language and the equipment, making their way towards the Hive.
A few minutes of walking through the garden fields of bushes, vines, and wildflowers in silence that Ocellus asked: “Isn’t this your third time here?”
She nodded. “Now that I think of it, yeah, it is. And that was quite a while ago since Trixie and I had come here to help Thorax.”
“Back when we were trying to get the Hive together. I wonder what’s different now for being away for so-”
“There’s the conquering hero!” This sudden third voice made them jump and shriek. Swiftly turning around they not only found Pharynx but a dozen other Changelings there that they didn’t notice before. The taller, purple and red Pharynx tilted his head, “What? I thought you’d like surprises.”
The two of them recovered from their mini-heart attacks. “H-Hey Pharynx.” Starlight was the first to say after she calmed down, “Long time no see.”
“Indeed,” he nodded, “it has been a long time since you came to the Hive.”
“How have you been?”
“Things have gotten better for us,” he said proudly, “since you’ve left, I took upon myself to reeducate these guys in the art of self-defense. But this isn’t about me, it’s about the star Changeling of the hour.” He looked over to Ocellus, “It’s good to have you back, Ocellus.”
“I take it that you’ve heard that I’ve taken up singing?” Ocellus asked with a nervous grin.
“Oh, we’ve heard alright, it’s what all everyling talks about now.” Pharynx looked over his shoulder and the other Changelings nodded in agreement. “Ever since that record came out and the news of how Equestria is reacting to you, it’s given us a sense of pride that we haven’t felt in a long time.”
The young Changeling asked him what he meant.
“Next to my brother, you’ve shown the world how a Changeling can be a force of good. Coming out with these songs that are sparking a revolution. Thanks to you, the young are given the motivation to become better. Why, in my defense class alone, they’re working harder than ever to be the best.” He leaned forward with a smirk. “Between you and me, we need that. If you could come up and sing these really good songs, then what’s stopping the rest of us doing that with what they’re working in?”
Ocellus blinked, “I didn’t know I was having that much of an influence.”
“Here especially. But it’s what the young ones have named themselves in this revolution that surprises us. Do you know what it is?” She shook her head. “They’ve taken a derogatory name for us Changelings and turned it into a new identity. Beatles.”
This left Ocellus speechless. Out of all the things to happen in a world where everyone had forgotten one of the most influential bands of all time, she never expected how much this would affect her own kind. She has now become an icon for those of her age to become something incredible. It was one thing to gain fans as the original band members had, but it was another to see and hear about the effect that Beatlemania has on the community she knows.
She saw it when they entered the Hive itself. Everywhere there were young Changelings who have become more industrious, ever striving to be creative, and trying to match the adults. There was a sense that they were doing what they could to be taken more seriously. Here, she saw a group around her age painting a mural of their history with her at one end of it. There in the kitchens, it was almost crowded with adults and kids alike experimenting and creating new meals that she never saw before. This way, a new library with books being written as she passed by. That way, a choir was rehearsing.
However, as impressed as she was, there are a few in particular that she wanted to see.
She led the way for Starlight towards a particular spot in the Hive where there was an expansive cave where she found two familiar adult Changelings with two other very younger ones. “Mom! Dad!” she called out walking in, “I’m home!”
“Welcome back Ocellus.” Her mother was the first to come up to hug her. “It’s good to see you.”
“Sis! Sis!” her two younger siblings went over to her, swarming about her head to where it was a blur of pink and light green.
Her father nuzzled her. “Glad you’re back.” He noticed Starlight by the mouth of the cave. “Hey, you want to come in?”
“Actually,” she yawned, “mind if I sleep somewhere? I had to use a good deal of energy just to teleport here and had a long walk up.” The parents told her to go ahead and she collapsed on the nearest patch of moss.
After her family got her luggage settled in and Ocellus got some time to relax, her parents asked her if they could talk to her for a moment.
“We just wanted to know,” her father started, “are you doing okay?”
She nodded. “I admit that it’s getting harder to maintain both my classes, my social life, and being a singer, but I’ll find a way to managed.”
“But are you getting your schoolwork done?” her mother asked.
“Well, I try.”
Her father frowned, “What does that mean?”
“Look, I am doing all I can to complete my assignments, my homework, and all other projects on time and at the best quality. My focus isn’t entirely on music or my friends. I do try to budget in a time where I can complete my schooling.”
“I see,” he nodded, “and I know we had this conversation briefly before, but we just wanted to make sure that this isn’t overwhelming you.”
“Don’t worry dad, I have a good handle on things.”
Her mother sat next to her. “Just understand that since you’ve become a symbol for other Changelings, there’s going to be some high expectations of you that might bring on some serious stress. While you haven’t done anything yet, we fear that there might come a point where this stardom might be proved too much. Just remember that you do have the right to say ‘no.’ That it’s okay to set up limitations. That you can step down when you feel like it’s enough.”
“To tell you the truth,” she said, “I think I already have an idea when this might end for me.”
“You do?” Both parents asked.
“I believe I still have some ways to go. There are still so many songs and a few concerts after this that I feel like I need to do. But I that… maybe, at the start of summer before I go home for the break that would be it for me. I could be off, but in my mind, I have an end goal. A point where I would say ‘That’s all there is, there isn’t anymore.’ It’ll come soon, but I still have several things left to do before that.”
“Even so,” her father said, “all we’re saying is that you should be careful now more than ever. Now that your audience has grown, many are going to look up to you for how they should behave. There is a lot of pressure on that front and if any of the Equestrian tabloids are to go by, they will be looking to you with a very critical eye. The truth is that we’re worried that if you slip, we don’t know how you might handle receiving harsh criticism.”
She winced. As much as she wanted to tell her father that he has nothing to worry about, he is right on this. Ocellus remembers how the original band members were in the course of their careers have been harshly, violently been criticized. She remembers Sandbar telling her that Dawn once joked that they were more popular than Celestia and it got Equestria angry at them for a while. What would happen to the music she was trying to bring back if she made a simple slip up?
“We’re not discouraging you.” Her mother told her, patting her on the back. “What you’re doing is changing the world, and we’re proud of you for having the passion to drive your talent and others to new heights. Just understand that there’s a responsibility to accept the consequences that come with it. If you want to do this, we will be with you as much as we can to support you. At the same time, understand there will be great stress that comes with it.”
“I understand.” Ocellus replied. “But as I promised you two, when I say that I quit, that will be it for me.”
Later that evening after dinner, Changelings have gathered into the Cultural Center of the Hive. An open-aired place of the hive where most activities take place from dancing, craft time, meals, and more importantly, a small stage for the theater. It wasn’t big, but it had enough space for Ocellus and her equipment and instruments. When the hour came, space in the Cultural Center was packed full of the Hive’s inhabitance, ready and excitingly waiting for their shining star to perform.
Ocellus was looking down from a nitch in the wall waiting for her cue. All the while, she noticed that the attendees for this concert were mostly young Changelings like herself. They were waiting, buzzing in anticipation for their hero to arrive. She took notice of how lively they chatted, hoping that The Beatle would sing their favorite song.
Then Thorax came up on stage, raising a hoof to try to get their attention. “Hello, everyling! Welcome to a very special concert for our Music Night, and I can tell all of you are excited.” The audience replied that they were. “I know, I’m just as excited too! After all, it’s no secret that out from this here Hive, we have a genius among us. Not only as a Student representative of us but has surprised everyone with her musical talent. She has contributed with a few other ponies to write out, in my opinion, some of the best music we’ve ever heard.”
There was a cheer from the Changelings.
“We are lucky,” Thorax continued, “that tonight, she has come this way to share her music. So let’s not waste any more time, here she is, the voice that has put Changeling creativity and ingenuity on the map – please welcome Ocellus, also known as The Beatle!”
Hearing her cue, Ocellus flew up much to the applause of the older folks and the screams of the young as she went overhead and towards the tinny stage. Picking up her violin-like bass guitar, she smiled and said: “Hi everyone! How have you been doing?” They shouted saying that they’re good. “That’s great. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to come back home for a little while. Well, since I’m in such a great mood, how about we start this off with something fun?” She strung a few cords. “Let’s start this off with a Revolution!”
With the jumping start of a radical call of the electric guitar and a stop of her hoof on one of the buttons, she led her opening song like a battering ram. The older Changelings were taken aback by this while the younger ones went nuts over it. Then she sang about that since they want an inevitable change, one with real solutions that change minds is natural. But if it’s for prejudice, hatred or destruction, then she wants nothing to do with it. Otherwise, she sings to them, it’s going to be alright.
Ocellus looked out at the crowd and noticed something interesting. From the younger Changelings, there were acting like the other audiences that she had encountered before. Lots of screaming, weeping, and the occasional fainting here and there. However, at the same time, the adults have tried to shush them, to keep it down so that they can hear. But here and there, others were stopping their hooves down to the beat of the song. Even Thorax, the Changeling King, despite the noise, was bobbing his head to the song.
During the song, while she was only playing the guitar solo, she heard from the younger Changelings yell out: “Long live The Beatle! Long live the revolution!”
After the concert concluded to roaring applause, Ocellus was approached with a note from Thorax, asking for him to see her. At first, she didn’t know what this meant. Was she in trouble? No… No that couldn’t have been it. She saw that the King was enjoying the music as much as the next Changeling.
Regardless, she was being summoned.
Another Changeling had to lead the way to what was the most forbidding place in the Hive. In her earlier years, Ocellus recalled that the path was once to the personal chambers of Queen Chrysalis. Although recently, it has taken up as the residences of Thorax with colorful lanterns guiding the way to the arched doorway, separated by a curtain of jade beads. Through them, she can see Thorax, his back against her and towards a desk that was carved from the Hive’s walls.
Ocellus cleared her throat, “King Thorax,” she called out, “you wanted to see me.”
Through the curtain, the Changeling King turned around, smiling. “Ocellus, come in! And you don’t have to call me King here. I just wanted to talk.”
Stepping through, she gave a quick bow and asked, “Am I in trouble?”
“What? Oh no.” He said, stepping over to her. “I just wanted to thank you for that concert you put on for us. You must be really busy with being a musician and I thought you might have been busy.”
“And not come back home for Spring Break for a little bit?” Ocellus asked, relieved that she wasn’t in trouble.
Nodding, Thorax craned his neck down until he was at eye-level with her. “Ocellus, I’m going to tell you the truth about something. When I picked you out to go to the School of Friendship as a student representative, I could never imagine that you went above and beyond that. Not only a hard-working student but now a musician that’s changing the world through song. You and I know that us Changelings haven’t been seen by everycreature as anything except… as monsters. But tonight, I saw something in you that not only gave us hope, but pride to be a Changeling.
“What I’m trying to say, Ocellus is thank you. You had the guts to take on the name of something we Changelings hated and turned it into something… inspiring. The Hive will never forget what you have done for us, and for the outside world. For that, we are in your debt. If there is anything from us that could enrich that music you’ve just played, it shall be given.”
For a long, silent, awkward minute, Ocellus didn’t have any words to that. Deep inside, all she ever wanted in life was to earn the respectability and pride of her parents, her king, and her fellow Changelings. Suddenly, her secret wish was granted. From Thorax’s own mouth, he said that she was appreciated for her efforts, for what she was doing. Even though she had to repeat over and over that these songs were not her own, here, she was placed on a pedestal just for singing them.
Finally, she had something to say. “Thorax, no one owes me anything.”
“Your modesty is appreciated, but this is an opinion shared by the Hive. If you need help from us, ask.”
Ocellus looked down. “Well…”
“Yes…?”
She cleared her throat. “Thorax, I’ve told my parents that I don’t plan on doing this forever. I’m doing what I’m doing because to help share the talent of some brilliant ponies while they still can. Regardless of what Pull McCart or Dawn Lemon say, I never wrote a single note of what I sang tonight. I’m only their voice piece to bring their songs to life.
“But, that being said, I think I will need help.”
“Oh?” Thorax tilted his head.
Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Don’t tell anyone this yet, but I’ve started to plan out two very special events before I step down for good. One for the school, and one for… well, everyone. And if I’m going to do it, then I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
“How so?”
She whispered in his ear. The King listened, nodding and taking some mental notes. Then, Ocellus mentioned one last bit that made him crane back straight up in surprise. “What was that last part!”
“I know, it sounds pretty out there.” She said, “But once I get Dawn to write it out and have that particular choir to sing it at that concert… I promise you that it’ll be worth it.”
“I don’t know… the other stuff I’m sure we can help with. But I don’t know if Changelings would sing that for our national anthem.”
“Then at least hear it out,” she said, “Once I get Dawn to write it out, I promise to make sure that you’ll be the first to hear it.”
“Well… no promises on that, but at least I’ll hear you out on that.”
She hugged one of his tall legs, “Thank you Thorax!” She buzzed in excitement. “I promise you won’t regret it.” After another bow, she flew off.
As much as Ocellus wanted to stay home, she had to keep moving. The next day, with Starlight fully rested, they teleported back to Equestria and on a train to their next destination. Heading eastward, they were carried across a valley of mountains and forests, turned left at the White Tail Woods, north into Ponyville before their train turned southwards to their next stop: Appleloosa.
Starlight didn’t do much besides resting and checking up to see what Ocellus was up to. The young Changeling sat by herself next to a pile of books and several sheets of paper, writing. It was clear that the student still had homework to catch up on whenever she’s not performing or practicing a new song.
While Starlight was still awake, her thoughts would turn to Ocellus. As hard-working as she is with both school and having a music career, she began to wonder about what she would have to face in the future. Sure, the Changeling would say that she’s doing fine now, but Starlight could see where this would be going for her by the time final exams come around.
So, after they began to head towards Appaloosa, she went over to Ocellus and asked her how she was doing.
“I’m doing alright,” she said, “I finished the research and now I think I’m about halfway done with the essay for Twilight’s class.”
“Okay, is that the only thing you needed to do this week?”
“No, I still need to prepare myself for the test for Rarity’s class in a couple of weeks, then I need to write up a joke for Pinkie’s class when we get back. Oh! And I need to get ready to take care of the class pet in Fluttershy’s. Then there’s-”
“Alright,” Starlight held a hoof, “I get the picture. You have a lot of stuff on your plate.”
“I know, and that’s just for the school.” Ocellus brushed the fin on her head back. “There’s also the matter for composing music and recording them. And the future events I’m planning for. Honestly, there’s so much that needs to be done that it’s not funny.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
Ocellus raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
She nodded and sat down next across from her. “One of the biggest mistakes I made is that I thought I could make my office accessible to everyone at all times. Little did I know that by doing so it left no room for me or my friends. Eventually, it got so bad that I almost lost a student and nearly got turned into stone.” Ocellus looked at her weirdly. “Long story, but the point is that I’ve learned that it’s okay to establish limits for what you can do and should do. Now tell me, with all this Beatle stuff, do you absolutely have to do it?”
Ocellus put her essay down. “It’s… complicated. The contract we signed said that we needed to submit at least two new songs a week. Heck, the only way I was able to go on tour is because we submitted four.”
“Sure, but then again, you and those composers can crank out these songs so fast, that I think you’d still have time to at least give you a big enough break to do everything else.”
“I’ve heard this before.” She sighed, “And none are wrong. Everyone I know is worried if I can handle what I’m being thrown at. As much as I do think that this music is extremely important, I don’t want to burn myself out either. At the same time, I have juggle between being a student to the school, being there for my friends, and… being a Beatle. And it’s not that I’m too prideful enough to not ask for help when I need it. Starlight, I already do realize that I need lots of help and I accept it from wherever I can get it.”
“But I’m being honest with you, Starlight. From the start, I realized how massive this is. If I did all of this alone, I’m guaranteed to get crushed underneath the weight. That’s why I need all the help I can get. It’s why I asked Pull and Dawn to pieces these songs together. And why recently I need my friends to help create something big for the school.”
Starlight nodded. “Sounds to me that you already know what you’re doing. Still, if you do need my help for anything, at least you know where my office is.” She winked.
“So…” Ocellus looked out of the window. “How long do you think it’ll be to Appaloosa?”
“I’d say that we have a good couple of hours away.”
“Good, still enough time to finish this essay.” She turned back to her paper and began writing where she left off.
When the train finally arrived at Appaloosa, the first thing they noticed was all the tents. Before they pulled up to the station, they saw camps of fans that were waiting for Ocellus. Instantly, Starlight pulled down the blinds.
“What did you do that for?” Ocellus asked.
“Something tells me that right now, the very last thing we would want on our hooves is a riot. If anypony out there saw you, they might try to tip the train over.”
There was no way to counter that logic.
When the train slowed down to the station, the doors to the station itself didn’t open. However, on the other side of the carriage, it did, and three stallions stepped on. One was the sheriff, and the other two were deputies. Immediately, the sheriff, who had a thick mustache and a silver star on his vest went up to Ocellus.
“Ma’am,” He told her, “ya need to come with us.”
“What?” Starlight questioned. “What’s going on?”
“Are you Starlight Glimmer?” She nodded, “We’re the police for Appaloosa, and we’re here to escort you and Ocellus to the concert safely. So please grab your things and come with us now.”
“What’s going-”
“Ah’ll explain on the way, but fer now, let’s go.”
Not wanting to waste time, Starlight and Ocellus grab their things, the equipment, and instruments before they were hurried into a steel carriage. It was the kind that was bolted together, had tinny slits for windows and a few lamps to light the inside. Both mares were in surprise as this was the sort of thing to carry extremely dangerous criminals in. Once they got everything in, the heavy door was closed and locked before they started moving.
“What’s going on?” Ocellus asked the sheriff who as across from them.
“Ya have ta trust me when Ah say that we’re doin’ this fer yer own safety.”
“Huh?”
“Have ya seen the crowd outside?” They nodded. “Appaloosa has never seen such a frenzy sort before, not even fer a buckball game. We’d figure that by the time you arrive, it’ll be complete chaos and someone is gonna get hurt. You especially. So drivin’ you around in this tank is done out for yer protection.”
“Okay,” Starlight peered throughout the windows. “So where are we going?”
“To the only place that could hold a good chunk of these ponies – Appaloosa Stadium. And given the crowd, we’ll have to enter differently.”
“So… like a backdoor?”
The sheriff shook his head. “There’s an entrance that goes underground. Mainly used for storage reasons, but in this case, it’s the safest way ta get there without her getting maimed.” He pointed at Ocellus. “Side’s, given the crowd, as soon as you finish, ya need to get back on that train.”
“Because you know it’s going to take a while to go down to the Hippogriff Kingdom?”
He shook his head. “So that we can have our town back. Not that we mind visitors, but we’re bein’ overwhelmed. The plan fer now is simple. Get you in; you play; get out.”
“…. Noted.” Ocellus nodded.
The carriage bobbed and jerked for some time as the three of them fell into silence. Starlight and Ocellus waited, looked up at the moving lights through the thin slits and wondered where they were. They felt the steel carriage made some turns here and there until, suddenly, the lights from the outside went out. Everything was tilting one way like going down a ramp and the echoes of hooves were heard. Then came another sound that Ocellus was too familiar with – the chanting of fans in the distance.
“We want the Beatle! We want the Beatle! We want the Beatle!”
It repeated continuously, even before the carriage stopped.
When it did, the door was unlocked, and it swung open to a bunch of other ponies with lanterns who sprang into action. Ocellus and Starlight got off and watched as they took hold of some of the equipment and carried them up a flight of stairs to a trap door above. It was a fury of activity as one of them asked which instrument she was going to carry on stage while another wanted to touch her up with makeup.
It went by so fast that she lost track of where Starlight went. But before she knew it, she stood there halfway up the stairs with her acoustic guitar as she heard someone announcing her. She can hear the roars and screams of the audience that were dying to hear her sing.
“…. So, without further ado,” a voice over the loudspeakers said, “here she is, bringing her unique talent to golden Appaloosa, the one and only – The Beatle!”
Ocellus felt someone nudging her up towards the trap door. As if to say ‘Go on! That’s your cue!’
‘Why do I get the impression that they don’t want me here?’ She thought, climbing the remaining steps and out into the open air. All around, blazing down on her were stadium lights that were so bright that it nearly blinded her to her audience in the stands. But as soon as she stepped on the stage in the middle of the stadium, there were screams in every direction to let her know how full this place was. Looking down, she noticed that between her and the swarm of shrieking ponies was a wall of barbed wire that she assumed was meant to keep them out while she performs. Ocellus also noticed that there were flashes of cameras that went off in every direction that, even in the darkness of the stands they sparkled like stars.
Even down at the very front, there was a fan who flashed in her face. She could barely see a blond unicorn who was light green and had an owl for a cutie mark and a camera in his aura. She blinked. Didn’t she see him before?
No matter, she has a show to do so she went up to the microphone.
“Hey everyone, are you all ready to make some noise?” The deafening, ear-shattering wail answered her. “That’s great because all of you are in luck tonight because I have some new songs for you that have never been heard until now. You want to hear them?” Same response to where she had to put a hoof in her ear to make it stop ringing. “So to start with, let’s start with a song that,” she smirked, “Your Mother Should Know.”
Stepping on a button, the sound that came out of the speakers with its slow drum and guitar sounded like a country ballad. However, when Ocellus began to sing, she sang in a vibrato of old Applewood glamor singing. A soft-shoe sort of dance that, while it caught her audience off guard, they still cheer at.
At the same time, with all the flashing in her eyes, Ocellus closed them and just focused on what she was singing. Even though she doubted that anyone heard a word she was saying, she did as hard as she could to stay on tempo, rhythm and hit the right notes. If anything, just like the concert at the Windmill in Ponyville, she could barely hear what she was paying or saying. Her hears could almost hear the drumbeat to keep her on time with this short song.
‘It’s kinda strange that they’re cheering a song they’ve never heard before even though they could barely hear it.’ She thought.
When Ocellus got to the other love songs that were on her record, somehow the audience had gotten louder. So loud that in between songs, she wondered how far out these unnatural screams could be heard. She wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if meanwhile in Saddle Arabia, the ponies there are screaming back to keep it down, they’re trying to sleep.
Even before she reached the final song, a thought was forming in her head. Not because of the hysterical nature of her audience that she was singing to, but insight. Ocellus remembered that before all of this started, back when the world remembered who The Beatles were, she recalled how Sandbar mentioned that ponies have wondered for decades why the band broke up. What drove them to separate even though they were successful. However, after spending a few times at these concerts, Ocellus understood a good portion as to why it happened.
As much as she felt that she was bringing back something culturally important, having to do this, night after night to fans who rarely quieted down to let her sing felt degrading. Minute after minute of fans being so excited to see her that they couldn’t bother to listen to her and do nothing but scream – she almost wanted to break down a cry. She almost came close to ending the show right there and there because she felt that despite her best efforts, she wasn’t being heard.
Still, she continued. Must continue. Regardless if they heard her or not, in order to bring the music of The Beatles back, the show must go on.
Near the end of the show, Ocellus felt tired. Her hindlegs screaming for at least a moment to sit down; while the front felt cramped up in trying to play all the right notes. And of course, the audience was still screaming their heads off.
“Okay everycreature,” she said into the microphone, “I did promise you all two new songs, so I saved the best for last. It’s a simple song, but I think it has enough character for all of you to like it. It’s called, Get Back.”
Pushing on a button, the speakers build up the sound of a galloping sneer-drum and a ricochet rhythm of a guitar. Then at its climax, Ocellus sang with a passionate voice that she yelled into the mic, raising her voice over the insane mob. She never screamed but kept it loud enough that surely, this time they must have heard her. All the while, her guitar played the sound of something country with its twain, and yet, still unapologetically rock-and-roll.
Even with (or perhaps because of) the screaming fans, something within her gave her the urge to fight with her voice to be heard. At the chorus, with every “Get back!” it was if she was trying to pull off a powerful spell in an exhausting, hard-fought battle. Yet, from the audience, they stop to the beat of the drum in unison. She could feel it from her tinny stage the vibration of the crowd, that Ocellus had worried that the wooden stadium could break.
She concentrated too at the difficult guitar licks, wowing her audience to make it look like she wasn’t trying. The young Changeling tried as hard as she could to make sure that she didn’t miss a note and prayed that none of the strings decided to break. She played on the guitar, strumming it as hard as it would go without snapping.
Hard was her concentration in both her voice and her playing that she tried as hard as she could to focus on what she was doing. It was like walking on a tightrope, being so high up and without a net – every step she took must be perfectly balanced, calculated, and to make it as flawless as if she had been doing it for all her life. Her acrobatic hooves twisted and stretched on those four years of her instrument, while in her head, every syllable was being conducted by a fast-militaristic tempo. One! Two! Three! Four! One! Two! Three! Four!
It was like she was no longer a Changeling or a thinking creature for that matter. But a circus animal for the cheering crowd that wants nothing more than to be entertained.
‘I know why they turned to the studio.’ Was Ocellus’s only thought.
What took about two minutes felt like an eternity to her, that by the time she got to that last bar and a few notes, she felt she ran up Mt. Everhoof in one go. “Thank you, Appaloosa!” She called out, “You’ve been great, thank and good night!”
Ocellus gave a bow to her fans and turned around to go down the trapdoor. Right away, she noticed that everything was packed within the steel carriage and she saw Starlight getting in. “What’s going-”
“Just get inside,” the sheriff interrupted her with urgency. “We’ll pack up the rest, just get in the carriage, now!”
She didn’t have time to put her guitar away when she had to scramble in. Within a minute, or perhaps less so, the last bit of her instruments and equipment were loaded on. The sheriff got in with them, before the door was slammed shut, locked and the carriage bolted immediately.
Whoever was pulling the carriage went at a speed as if the very ground itself was falling. Lights flashed by faster and faster from the tinny slits. But the further they went, the more they noticed how those frantic screams were becoming quiet with every passing moment. Suddenly the carriage turned sharply this way and that. Ocellus held on to her vulnerable guitar as if it were an egg while she was being thrown about.
Soon the carriage slowed to a halt, and the door opened onto a train carriage.
“Get on,” the sheriff insisted. “If you don’t, your fans will swarm the train and you’ll never get out of here.”
Neither mare had the opportunity to at least thank him as they were pushed out, along with their things. When the last of the cases of equipment emptied, the sheriff knocked on the side of the car. It must have been a single to the engineer of the train because the train started to chug away.
Starlight harrumphed, “Not even so much as a goodbye.”
“Hey, Starlight?” The young Changeling asked meekly.
“Hm? Yes, Ocellus?”
“I think that after the Hippogriff Kingdom, I don’t think I want to do tours anymore.”
Starlight wrapped a hoof around her, embracing her in a hug. “Considering all that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame you for doing so.”
Appaloosa to the Hippogriff Kingdom by rail is considered one of the fastest ways to travel – even though it takes a whole day to get there. However, it’s also regarded as the safest. Going through the tunnels underneath the Macintosh Hills and traveling between the Arimaspi Territory and the Forbidden Jungle is one thing, but not even air travel could navigate the unpredictable winds of the Bone Dry Desert. If anything, the Equestrian Railways don’t go across its ocean of sand dunes. Instead, it turns eastward between the desert and the jungle until it reaches the coast of the Celestial Sea before turning south. Then following a series of bridges and tunnels that slithers through the Pine Needle Barrens towards the Basalt Beach would any of the passengers see the majestic island of Mount Aris.
The whole day of travel gave Ocellus a much-needed rest from the concert in Appaloosa, as well as time to practice a particularly tricky song from Hayson. She worked hard to try to fine-tune every bar of one of the most famous Beatles songs that needed to come out just right. She had spent hours on the opening alone.
But when it came to finally arrive at Mount Aris just when the sun had begun to set, the train came to a halt at its station. Mercifully, when Ocellus and Starlight got off, they weren’t thrown into a steel carriage nor were there mobs of ponies. However, there was a crowd that was mostly made up of Hippogriffs holding up signs that said: Welcome Beatle.
One of them, much to Ocellus’s relief, was Silverstream. “Welcome to Mount Aris!” She said, hugging her on sight.
“Hey Silverstream,” she hugged back, “you have no idea how welcoming it is to see you again.”
“I know, that’s why I have this sign.” The pink Hippogriff replied, holding up a sign of her own that read – Hi Ocellus! “How is your tour so far?”
“It could have gone better,” Starlight admits, “However, at least this will be our last stop before heading back to Ponyville.”
Ocellus asked her friend how her Spring Break was going. “It’s been going great! Since I came back here, I’ve been introducing a couple of Hippogriffs to your music. I went to everygriff I know, my parents, my brother, my aunt, a couple of old friends, the baker, construction workers, gardeners, dolphin trainers, the anesthesiologist, the-”
“I think we get the idea,” Starlight interrupted, “you were excited to share her music with everyone.”
Silverstream nodded, “My aunt especially, Queen Novo, can’t wait to hear you play in person. When I played your record to her, she said that one song… Something, I think? Well when she heard that, she said that it was the most beautiful song she’s ever heard! In fact, she wants to see you as soon as you arrive.”
Ocellus blinked, “What? Now? As in right now, right now?”
“Yep,” she nodded, “she’s at her old palace right now – Auntie Novo wants to see you first before you do your concert thing tomorrow morning. So, come on! Get your guitar and I’ll take you up to her.”
“Well before you go off flying,” Starlight said, picking up some of the equipment and language, “any idea where we’re staying for the night?”
“There’s a guest house.” She pointed up the trail to the Hippogriff village – several hundred feet above them. “All you have to do is go up that trail, through the gate, go straight until you find an ancient water fountain, turn left, go past three trees, turn left, go up a hill, turn right, hop-scotch over a stream that has rocks in them, keep going straight for the next fifteen trees, then turn left and the first tree is where you and Ocellus will be at for the night. Got it?”
“Just means more walking,” Starlight deadpanned, taking up all of their things in her aura, “yea me.”
As she walks away, Silverstream asked how come she doesn’t just teleport up to the village. “Starlight is trying to save up her energy,” Ocellus explained, guitar case in hoof, “after the concert tomorrow we’re teleporting us and our things back to Ponyville. You know, long-distance and such. So, where is your Aunt?”
“Follow me,” spreading her wings, Silverstream jumped up and flew upward. Ocellus followed after her. Up those two friends went, past the trail, over the carved stone gate, flew over the village that looked like a forest than a town. Then past another gate over an extensive garden that Silverstream said it was called Harmonizing Heights. Yet, higher still they went.
At the top of Mount Aris, near its highest point of this enormous statue of a Hippogriff with its massive wings that reached down towards the beach, there was a gigantic head with a stern look that gazed down at what was between its wings. Silverstream pointed at the head. “Believe it not,” she tells her friend, “the inside of the head is the palace itself.”
“You mean all of this is hollow?”
“Just the head. But it’s pretty massive inside. C’mon, I’ll show you!”
Gliding over to it, the two of them started to notice that here and there were guards near the statue’s eyes, ears, and beak. Silverstream guided Ocellus towards the statue’s right eye in which the guards saluted them. Once they flew through the hollowed eye, they came into a massive room that looked like it was in the process of being repaired. Long tapestries were slowly being repaired stitch by stitch, masons were carving out new designs out of the damaged stone, yet there on a stone thrown sitting on a cushion was the Queen. At first, the large Hippogriff didn’t notice them as she was talking with three other Hippogriffs (possibly advisers) with scrolls.
“Auntie Novo!” Silverstream cried out. Ocellus took noticed that as her friend was trying to get the queen’s attention, the throne room had an echo like the inside of an opera house.
Novo glanced up. “Oh! Is this her?” Silverstream nodded and she dismissed the other three Hippogriffs so that she would be alone with her niece and her friend. “So, I take it that you’re Ocellus?”
The young Changeling nodded, “Yes, Your Highness.”
Novo put a talon under her beak in thought. “Firstly, on behalf of both the Hippogriff Kingdom and Seaquestria, I welcome you as a guest to our lands. Secondly, and I don’t mean this as an offense, but I thought you might have been a bit… older.”
Ocellus tilted her head in confusion, “None… taken?”
“I mean, from what I’ve heard from that record of yours. It sounded as if you were a touch older by a couple or so years. However, looking at you now, I think it just makes all those love songs all the more remarkable.”
“Thank you, but I never-”
“Well, I know that you didn’t write all of them.” Novo waved a claw. “I can read what your album said. Still, even with working in a group, I stand by the opinion that I do find it incredible. And you know why?” Ocellus shook her head. “In all my years when it comes to musicians, you and your group have written more masterpieces in a matter of months than most could do in a lifetime. Memorable lyrics, seductive melodies, and complex harmonies that rival – if not surpass – the greatest composers within my kingdoms.
“As much as I am falling in love with the talent behind what you play and sing, I do have to ask.” She leaned forward. “How do you do it?”
Ocellus pondered over how to answer this question. “It’s not easy to answer – but to put it simply, I recognized that talents that Pull McCart, Dawn Lemon, Forge Hayson, and Mango Star had long ago. You see, most of the songs you’ve been hearing are old, but they’re not well known. To be honest, a good chunk of their masterpieces is in fragments. I had hoped that if I could somehow get them to work together again, maybe they could restore or make these songs better. And the thing is, I don’t think we’re done yet.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Novo commented. “I am curious to hear what that group of yours might come up next. And since you are here, I have a request.”
“Silverstream said you wanted me to play something.”
Novo nodded. “Yes, but I think,” she turned to her niece, “Silver, is there a song you want to hear?”
Turning to Silverstream, Ocellus watched her friend tapping her beak in thought. “I’m trying to remember… Hey Ocellus, what was that one love song that goes dum-dum-da-dum?”
The young Changeling blinked for a moment. “Oh! You mean And I Love Her?”
“Yeah! That’s the one! I know you had a long trip, but could I at least hear it again?”
She told her to hang on. Putting down her case, she unlatched the locks, opened it, and pulled out her acoustic guitar. The Changeling plucked a string and listened to the echo of that single note until it faded. “If I may say so, Your Highness, the acoustics in here are incredible.”
“You can blame one of our past royalties for this throne room’s design. Salbeak IV, I believe, is said to have made this room in such a way that if one were to shout in a disagreement, they could do so dramatically whenever a royal shout SILENCE!” Both Ocellus and Silverstream flinched at the sudden shout that echoed like a strike of a bell. “See?” Novo smirked. “And in the old days, musicians used to play here because of the atmosphere. I don’t blame them really. But I’m stalling. So let’s hear it for The Beatle!”
After making sure that her guitar was in tune, she nodded and began to play.
At first, she played a couple of bars where four notes sighed in a simple but beautiful way. Closing her eyes, Ocellus started to sing in a quiet but dignified way. It was a soft song that was charming, yet seductive. In a way, every time she sang about love and her waxing poetically, it seemed she meant it. Although she wasn’t screaming in passion, every word of every note echoed a feeling when one has a crush on someone.
Opening her eyes, she saw her friendly smile, and the Queen bob her head to the beat, her eyes closed as if to contemplate over something. The way she paid attention to this song was like how one would savor the taste of a meal. Satisfaction on her face and Ocellus could sense an interest in the Queen.
Back to her friend, she picked up on something that she didn’t notice about Silverstream before. While her face showed a happy hippogriff, the Changeling sensed a particular longing. As if she noticed Silverstream’s soul was sighing in a melancholic way. As if with every passing bar, there was a longing within her. Ocellus noted that it wasn’t clear who it was aimed at in particular. But the very flavor of it screams that she wanted to be loved in the way that her friend was singing about.
For the moment, she kept her thoughts to herself.
In Ocellus’s ears, every sound she made reverberated off the walls like the harmony of a dreaming piano. Notes that lingered sympathized back when she returned to those notes. In a way, she wished that she could record the song in here like she was playing in an empty theater. Where the ghost of those notes lingers after she sang them.
By the time she finished, she was given an small applause from her friend and the Queen.
“Now that was sublime!” Novo complemented. “You sang all those notes in all the right ways. Magnificent!”
“I know, right!” Silverstream exclaimed, “Now you see why it’s my favorite by far?”
“Oh yes. Although I still prefer Something, that was delicious.”
“Well, that’s got to be the first time I’ve heard that.” Ocellus remarked. “I’m glad you liked it. Will there be anything else?”
Novo hummed, “Now that you’ve mentioned it. There is one thing…” She turned to her niece, “Silver, I want to speak with your friend in private.”
Silverstream tilted her head. “Why? Did she do something wrong?”
“Oh no, Silver sweetie, she’s not in trouble. Just… I’d like to ask her something personal that is only fit for mine, and her ears alone.”
There was a hesitation, but Silverstream excused herself out from the throne room.
When Novo was certain they were alone, she turned to Ocellus. “I stand by what I said about the songs you sang.” She began, “However, listing to you sing now, there has been something on my mind that I’m sure you must have been asked all the time by now.”
“Yeah?” Ocellus raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
“Before I ask,” she leaned towards her, “let’s be clear that I’m not doing so to be rude or to embarrass you. Given how recent I have learned on the subject, I can only guess that it is as personal as it could get.”
The Changeling stepped back. “And that being…?”
“If what I’ve heard about Changelings is true, you can sense someone’s emotions.” She nodded, “So when you were singing that song, did you by chance picked up anything on Silver?”
Ocellus tilted her head. “Why are you asking?”
“Because over this week, I’ve noticed that there’s a change within my niece – and I don’t mean promoting your songs. Lately, she seemed more distracted than usual. As if her mind was elsewhere. Not only that, but she had that song being played on loop. I could be wrong, but I believe she’s missing someone close to her.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it, when I was singing, I could sense that she’s longing for someone. Like she’s…” Her eyes widen in realization, “You think she has a crush?”
“I never said that,” she smirked, “but you’ve just confirmed what I thought. You have any ideas?”
She shook her head. “That longing wasn’t at me if that’s what you’re asking. Whoever it is, she’s diffidently missing them.”
“I figured as much. She is getting to that age, isn’t she? But now my inquire has been satisfied, you are free to go. My Kingdom will be looking forward to hearing you sing in the morning.”
Ocellus thanked her, bowed, picked up her guitar and left the throne room.
Silverstream was waiting for her outside to show her where the guest house was. Flying over, Ocellus reasoned that it might be too soon to bring up who she has a crush on and made a mental note to ask her about it later.
By the time they came to the house, Starlight, with all the luggage in tow, was already inside – sleeping on the couch.
It was before the sun had a chance to rise that Ocellus was preparing herself for the last concert on this tour. The young Changeling hardly slept as she was getting herself ready. When she arrived down at the beach, she found the stage on the calm water. Although the wind wasn’t blowing that morning, she did find it cold when she flew in the air underneath the icy stars. Still, she appreciated the Hippogriffs who worked all night in preparing this event.
Half-an-hour before dawn, she was surprised to find that there was already a crowd that was already there. It was surreal for her to see near the floating stage globes of lanterns that bobbed with the Seaponies. And on the beach, the dock and the air, Hippogriffs were waiting for her. She was relieved that at least this audience wasn’t as ruckus as the one in Appaloosa.
Still, she waited behind a bush, waiting for her cue to enter. A lone Hippogriff stood on the stage where near the equipment there was a small clock. Although the sky had begun to change from black to deep blue, to pink, and so on; the Hippogriff waited for the right moment when for the concert to start.
A few minutes before the sun rose from the sea, he spoke into the microphone. “Alright, fellow Hippogriffs and Seaponies, are we ready to hear some new music?” The audience cheered, but not, much to Ocellus’s delight, roared. “Well, here she is, the newest musical star and has some of the best songs we’ve ever heard, please welcome, The Beatle!”
Popping out from the bushes, she flew over to the applause and splashing flippers of her audience. With her guitar ready, she eyed the time and said, “Thank you everycreature for coming out here early this morning. By now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve chosen such an unusual hour to play some songs for you. That’s because of this brand-new song that needs a setting like this. It’s called,” she looked at the clock, only a few seconds to go, “Here Comes the Sun.”
At sixteen seconds before the sun rose, she began to play a melody on the guitar that had a melody that was warm and welcoming as the rays of the sun. It sounded simple at first, like a foal’s song being improvised and yet, so beautifully done. Then, holding still for a bar, the first ray of the sun broke through the horizon, she began to sing. As calm as her voice was, there was a glow in every word she said that as joyous. She noted that her audience was in awe of both the gorgeous tune and the sunrise that painted the sky in ever brighter colors. With the clouds turning a salmon pink, the shadows of the inland in dark greens and blues, and a sea of gold.
For the audience, Hippogriffs and Seaponies alike, the only word to describe this moment was simply – magic. It was as if Ocellus was summing the sun out into the sky, banishing the chilly air and replacing it with a loving warmth. This hymn to the sun they found was comforting, playful in the simple tune that brought a smile to those who listened to it. And Ocellus’s voice, it was like hearing the tones of a friend that one hasn’t seen in years – yet has fond memories of.
For Ocellus herself, perhaps it was from the lack of sleep or that she was hitting every note just right, but she was entranced by the song. That for the first time since she began this tour, she felt and understood what it was like to be a Beatle. While she may not have written this masterpiece of a song, she did, however, felt that she had finally earned her place as such. No longer that it felt fake or that it was going unnoticed. She can see it on the faces on sea, land, and air the look of hope, peace, and love that made The Beatles stood out. Here, she can see it for herself – not the screaming, insane audience that probably didn’t hear a word she said, but as a force of change for all things good.
As the sun rose, so did her confidence in being a legitimate Beatle.
Ocellus was relieved to be back in Ponyville at the school. Starlight especially after teleporting them, their language, the equipment, and instruments decided that she was going to go straight to bed for the next few days. The student understood perfectly. After going on tour, all she wanted to do was to rest until it was time for school.
Then when Spring Break was officially over, all the students and teachers returned; along with Pull, Dawn, and Mango. Every day after school, the three original Beatles, Ocellus and her friends would gather to work on constructing a very unusual performance in the school’s music room. For the music, they got experimental from using tape recordings to playing whatever instruments they could find. Thanks to the young Changeling to pick out familiar tunes from Pull and Dawn’s improvisations, they were able to piece together Nowhere Mare, Yellow Submarine, Fool on the Hill, Hello Goodbye, She’s Leaving Home, Tomorrow Never Knows, Strawberry Fields Forever, and Hey Bulldog – all in a week! The more songs that Ocellus was able to help reconstruct, the more she wondered what exactly they’ll be able to come up with as a plot with all these strange songs.
A few weeks later when they were able to come up and record fourteen new songs for the project with the addition of a song from Hayson that used Neighponese instruments. Then when Ocellus showed these songs to her friends, they were able to come up with the idea of a plot. About a mare that runs away from home, joins a band in which they go on bizarre adventures that helps the mare discover who she is in the process. The old Beatles listened to this pitch and thought that it might work, and thus, they appointed Silverstream and Smolder to come up with the rough draft of the script on the condition that it would include jokes, distant but weird lands, and a good amount of playful nonsense.
Of course, when they finally got done with it, the whole group took part in the editing process to make sure this bonkers play made some sense. But when Gallus pointed that because the play is so weird that either no creature would understand it or think they were on drugs, “Besides, I don’t think anyone would buy it if it’s in a dream or something.”
“I don’t know,” Dawn commented, “If you dream a dream alone, it will only be a dream. But a dream that you dream together becomes is reality.”
“Ya know, in a weird way,” Smolder replied, “he’s got a point there. If I was told that I’d be involved in coming up with a play for the school with the greatest musicians I’ve ever known – I wouldn’t believe it. Yeah, if you think about it too long, this whole thing makes no sense.”
“Can’t we just have fun with it?” Silverstream asked. “We’re maybe not Shakespur, but I don’t think anyone expects us to be. So how about we just go crazy and enjoy the ride?”
Ringo flipped through his copy, and back at all the insane scenes. “With what’s in here so far? I’d say Welcome to Wonderland.”
“Yona has question.” The young Yak raised her hoof. “Well… Two questions for Ocellus.” She asked her what they were. “Will Ocellus get big orchestra for music?”
The Changeling nodded. “I’m going to get Octavia to arrange the music and get the Canterlot Philharmonic for the performance. Along with her roommate for the more electronic parts. Now, what was your other question?”
“Will we have auditions for the other parts?”
“Kinda. But I’ll take care of that.”
“How?” Sandbar questioned. “The last time we were in a play, we easily got the parts because we were the only ones that auditioned. Even if you’re going to be in it, I don’t know if the rest of the school would want to be in it. Especially with this many needed for the cast.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve asked a few favors from the Hive to come to help out.”
“Well, that’s good news.” Pull pointed out, “Still, I think you might as well hold auditions just to be fair.”
The others agreed.
After it was made clear that they have covered everything for the day, Ocellus asked to speak with Silverstream. When it was only them, the Hippogriff asked if something was wrong.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” Ocellus started, “but I do want to talk to you about something. I have been keeping quiet as I don’t want to jump to conclusions because I’ve been noticing something.”
“Uh… Yeah?”
“First off, you do know I’m a Changeling – a creature that’s known for reading emotions from others like a book, right?” Silverstream blushed. “With you, I’ve picked it up now and then, but from what I can gather, you’ve been suppressing something but it’s not clear.” She sat down in front of her. “Silverstream, I’m not trying to embarrass you, but I think that maybe you needed someone to at least talk about what’s going on.”
Silverstream touched the tips of her talons, her gaze looked away. “…. Promise you wouldn’t laugh. Or tell anyone.”
She nodded, preparing herself. “You can trust me. If you don’t mind of me asking, is something bothering you?”
Hesitating for a moment, Silverstream looked over this way and that to make sure that no one was listening to them. “It’s about… Gallus.”
“Yeah? What about him?”
“You see…” combing her talons through her hair, trying to come up with the right words to say, she said: “It’s weird, you know? One day I thought of Gallus as a good friend, then ever since your album came out, I’ve been thinking about the idea of love. Especially with that song And I Love Her, that I can’t figure out why I almost imagine… well… Gallus singing that to me. And since I came back from Spring Break, I’ve begun to notice him more often. Like really noticing him. Is that crazy? I think it is.”
“Well… I don’t know about crazy, but if I didn’t know any better.” She smiled. “I’m starting to think you’re developing a crush on Gallus.”
“What? Me? C’mon! This is Gallus we’re talking about. Our friend. Why am I getting all of these thoughts out of nowhere? And why did it start from that song?”
“You said so yourself, you imagined Gallus singing that to you. Maybe there’s some quality in him that you find attracted towards. So, think about it, what is it with Gallus that would make you notice him more often?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s his sense of humor? Or that he’s a bit of a rebel? Or that he’s loyal to us as friends? Perhaps it’s because he’s honest with us and doesn’t try to dance around issues. Or maybe it’s because he’s got that fla…” her words left her before she could finish that sentence, blushing and covering her beak.
“To be fair,” Ocellus smirked, “what I’m sensing from you isn’t love, it’s too undeveloped. Now that I see it, I think you’re experiencing infatuation.”
“What does that mean?”
“Basically, a fixation on Gallus. I don’t believe it’s a crush at this point, but what you’re experiencing now is the early stages of love.”
“Stupid question, but how do you know all this?”
“I’m a Changeling,” Ocellus deadpanned, “we have to understand how it works in the past.”
“Oh…” Silverstream rubbed her arm. “So… now what?”
The young Changeling hummed in thought. “I may be no Princess Cadence, but if I were you, maybe it’s best to hang out with Gallus more.”
“What?”
“Well, why not? If you don’t know why you find him attractive, or if he would make a good date, then just hang out with him so you can figure out if he is. You don’t have to tell how you feel until you’re certain of it. Don’t rush headlong into it. So, take all the time you need to figure it out.”
Silverstream hugged her. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Thanks for the juicy gratitude,” Ocellus said, her wings buzzed.
Piece by piece, the play was coming together. Thanks to Dawn Lemon’s concept art, they had a better idea of the look of the play, as well as the sets, the costumes, and even the strange creatures that were to come. Pull and Mango worked with Octavia in ironing the details of the soundscape of the orchestra. Vinyl Scratch got into the action to use the tape that Ocellus kept for the transitional scenes and some of the songs.
The students turned to their teachers to help out with some of the finer details of the play. Rarity was instantly hooked on making the costumes. Pinkie fell in love with the ideas of the sets, so she volunteered to produce it and called in a few favors to help out. Discord agreed to take care of the special effects on the condition that he would be paid with a wig made out of angle hair. Octavia said that she will get the Canterlot Philharmonic to play this music live. And for the director – they went with Spike.
Once the script had turned into a final copy, all that was left was to have auditions and start rehearsing. When an announcement was made to the school and the Hive that there was an audition to be held for a play that had The Beatle’s music, there were lines that went out of the school doors. Even though there were few speaking roles available, it didn’t stop them from trying out.
At the end of the line in the school’s gym, Ocellus looked on tired as one after another, some individual or another would deliver a minute-long monologue and sing a bit. She wasn’t alone, of course. Smolder and Spike were there too. Taking down notes just as she was. Each weighing which would fit best for this or that role. It was tedious work, especially when it came to narrow down who would be played by. The three of them sat in the middle of the room with a table, and behind them was a stand-up piano from the music room.
“Next,” Smolder called out. The double doors of the gym were flung open to an orange coated, blond unicorn, yet chubby stallion.
“Finally!” he said rushing over to Ocellus, “I had waited for months for this.” He held out a hoof to her, “The name’s Aficionado, I’m a huge fan of yours.” He grinned.
Daintily, Ocellus shook his hoof. “Oh, nice to meet you.”
“I’ve been to many of your concerts, and each time I’ve been there, you were brilliant s-so.” He lit up his horn and pulled out a picture of her with the violin-like guitar. “Can I get you to sign this?”
“Hey wait a minute!” Smolder stood up. “Are you here to audition or just to fanboy over my friend here?”
“Well… I just wanted her to sign this.”
“Dude,” Spike said, “we’re in the middle of trying to put a show together. I don’t think this is the time and place.”
“But this is the first time that I’m able to get up close to at least talk to her.” Aficionado protested, “I tried at the other concerts, but she’s always shooed away before I could get close. So please, sign this for me.”
“Look,” Ocellus spoke up, trying to make what she had to say as gently as possible. “Mr… Aficionado, isn’t it?” he nodded, “I appreciate that you’re a fan, and I get that you want to be near someone that you’ve looked up to. Trust me, I absolutely get it. However, if you want, you could try to audition to be in this play we’re putting on.”
“Well, I can’t act or sing… Oh! And before I forget,” suddenly he took out a camera and took a picture at her. Flashing his camera at point-blank range.
A fireball came between them. “Look here creep!” Smolder snapped at him. “If you’re not going to help us in any way that’s, oh I don’t know, constructive, then you need to leave. Ocellus has tried to be reasonable, but you’re so blind in your idol worship that it’s just getting in the way. Now get out before I decide to have you extra crispy.” She finished, blowing smoke out of her nose.
“I just wanted to-”
“OUT!”
With dejection and a flash of anger on his face, Aficionado left. Slamming the doors on his way out.
Spike turned to the dragoness, “Did you have to be so harsh? The guy just wanted to have an autograph and a picture.”
“There’s a difference between fanboying, and just being a nascence.”
“You think he’s going to be okay,” Ocellus asked, “I mean, I was trying to be reasonable with him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Smolder said, sitting back down. “Next!”
The double doors were pushed open and in walked a young yellow Changeling. As soon as she entered and saw Ocellus there, the Changeling froze.
“Uh… hi.” Ocellus waved.
Almost immediately, the yellow Changeling turned around as if she was about to run out in a panic. But before she could touch the doors, she stopped, took several deep breaths muttering: “You can do this. You can do this.” Clearly, she was nervous and, as they guessed, another fan of Ocellus too starstruck to speak.
“Are you okay?” Spike asked.
She nodded, turning around with a nervous grin. “Yes, yes sorry I… I don’t usually get this anxious. It’s just…”
Smolder cleared her throat. “So, do you have a name?”
“Antenna. I’d like to uh… audition.” She took in several more breaths to try to calm herself.
“Excuse me,” Ocellus said, waving a hoof at her, “could you come here for a second?” As jittery as she was, the yellow Changeling approached her. “I know you must be scared of messing up, and you know what? I get it.”
“Y-You do?”
She nodded. “It may not look like it, but I was like you at first. I was a fan of somebody that I thought was better at me in every way. However, when I got to meet those I looked up to, I found something that surprised me. And I’m going to lend in on a secret about me. Do you want to hear it? Okay. The truth is, I’m not any different than you are.”
Antenna blinked. “But you’re The Beatle, one of the most prolific musicians in the world.”
“That is just making it up as I go. Even the songwriters I work with, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, they had just as much musical training as I had – we’re just starting out. So, you don’t have to see me as this flawless being you have to impress. I’m not. And I know you are nervous, but you can do this. Take a moment to breathe, think what you’re going to say and do, and do it.”
Antenna nodded. “Okay… Okay, I can do this.” She backed away a few steps. “I’ll start with a short monologue from Shakespur.” Clearing her throat, she gathers up the courage of her lines and said: “The quality of mercy is not strain’d. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: it blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. ‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown. His scepter shows the force of temporal power, the attribute to awe and majesty, wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings. But mercy is above this sceptered sway; it is enthroned in the heart of kings; it is an attribute to Faust herself; and earthly power doth then show likest Gods when mercy seasons justice.”
The three of them nodded. “I got to say,” Spike remarked, “That’s the first time all day that I’ve heard someone recite Shakespur and not trip over those lines. Not bad.”
“Tell me about it,” Smolder commented while jotting something down. “At least I can follow what she’s saying this time.”
“I think we can all agree that she can talk the talk,” Ocellus smiled up at Antenna, “but can you sing?”
She nodded, “And play too if needed. I have something prepared, but can I borrow the piano?”
The three of them told her to go right ahead. So, going around them, Antenna sat at the bench. “If you don’t mind,” she said turning to Ocellus, “I’m going to be playing an arrangement of one of your songs.”
For a split second, Ocellus was about to correct her, but she let it slide. “Which one?”
“A song called Girl. I’ve been practicing singing it to get it to come out just right.”
Taking in a deep breath and pushing down on one of the sounds peddles, she began with an airy, dream-like intro to let the notes echo and fade. It was quiet at first with her humming the higher notes that would stop and go as if to listen to those dying sounds. Then, she began to sing.
What got all of their attention as not only how her playing had the romantic, dreamy style of someone like Horseshoepin, but how similar her singing voice was to Ocellus. Of course, not absolutely a perfect match, but to the untrained ear, it sounded just like her. Same pitch and tone as her to the point that she could easily fit as her sound double.
While they listened, Ocellus’s mind was racing. Antenna can act, as well as play something complicated and sing. For Ocellus, it was not only clear that she should get a part – but she instantly knew for which part. There was a genuine talent being displayed here, and instantly, she knew exactly how to put it into good use.
Soon, Antenna finished and the three of them gave her an well-deserved applause.
“Wow,” Spike said, “that was really good.”
“Finally,” Smolder sighed in relief, “someone who has tal-”
“You’re in.” Ocellus interrupted her.
Antenna gasped, “Y-You mean?”
She nodded, turning to the other two dragons, “I can safely say that it would be disgraceful if we didn’t let her in, am I right?” They nodded. “In fact…” She stood up, “would you guys give me a moment?”
Antenna and Ocellus flew over towards one of the large windows above, and Ocellus told her in a low voice. “Listen, keep your voice down because I want to tell you something that I don’t want anyone to know, alright?”
“Quite the opposite. You did really well today. So much so, that I figure out a part for you.” She whispered it into her ear.
Antenna’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding!?”
Ocellus shook her head. “And I’m going to tell you why. Because I think it would only be fair for someone who has this much talent to at least get noticed.”
“But aren’t you going to be in this too?”
She nodded, “I wasn’t planning to, but having you in will give everyone a surprise.”
“I…” Antenna’s eyes shimmered and dripped with joyful tears. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” She hugged her.
“Just make sure to be there for rehearsals. We’ll start next week.”
“I won’t forget it. Thank you!” Antenna said with joy as she flew out of the gym.
Sitting back down with the others, Smolder asked, “What was that about?”
Ocellus smirked. “You’ll see.”
About a week later, after it was announced who got what part, the cast gathered together at the outdoor near the school. In the grassy space between the stage and the rows of benches, an upright piano waited along with thirty other individuals who sat in those benches. Most of them were waiting, making small talk, waiting for their first day of rehearsal.
Then a loud whistle was heard, they turned and saw their director – Spike. And Ocellus pulling a red wagon full of scripts. Suddenly the cast rushed to meet her when Dragon blew a large fireball before anything could happen.
“I know you’re excited to meet her, but you can do that after.” Spike told them, “For now, we have a play to put on and with very limited time. So please, line up and we’ll give out your scripts.”
The cast formed a line in which Ocellus started to hoof them out one by one with their script and sheet music. Although the Changeling can sense how most of them were excited to be working with her, she politely told them that she’ll talk with them later. This went on until she got to Antenna who merely winked at her as she gave her script.
After that was done, and the main sixteen cast sat in the front row, Spike walked out in front of them. “I know we don’t have much time until the last day of school to put out this performance.” He started out, talking to them like a general to his soldiers. “And I get it that it might not be easy to memorize brand new songs at short notice either. But you were all chosen out of good faith that you are not good – but the best of what you do. If we work hard, if we’re not distracted, and if you do your best to do your idol justice,” he pointed at Ocellus, “then we can pull this off. I know Two Acts will be a nightmare for some, it will be difficult, yet, it’s not impossible either! So, are you all ready to put on this play?”
“Yes!” The cast cried.
“I can’t hear you!”
“YES WE CAN!”
Spike smiled, “You better hold on to that enthusiasm. You’ll need it if this is to work.” He then opened up his copy of the full script. “So, let’s get started with Act 1, Scene 1.”
It didn’t take much for any fan of The Beatle to noticed that they were putting on a play. Tickets were printed and sold out before the ink could dry. Even posters about the production became a collector’s item when they were put up around the town. On the radio, there was an advertisement for the musical. Featuring brand new, never before heard songs by the geniuses of Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon.
But outside of that, actual news of the production itself was kept a secret by the cast. With only a few weeks with intense rehearsals, perfecting the costumes, the effects, and the Canterlot Philharmonic providing the instrumentation of the song – there was quite a lot of pressure on everyone involved. There were rumors here and there of what the play is going to be about and the receipts that were found in garbage cans that paid far more than any typical school play. If anything, what newspaper reporters were scraping up, it suggested that this play was aiming for Bridleway quality.
Then, on the final week of school when summer break was just around the corner, attendees gathered in Ponyville to the outdoor theater. There was a fence that was put up around it that sealed up the area except for a gate in which student ticket takers stood. Above there was a sign in a rainbow of letters that had the name of the play:
PEPPERLAND
When they did enter and took their seats, they saw that there was a banner that hung over the drawn purple curtains. A notice by the co-author of the play that read:
Anycreature attempting to find a motive in this production will be prosecuted; anycreature attempting to find a moral will be banished; anycreature attempting to find a plot in this play will be shot; anycreature attempting to heckle the actors or musicians will be disembodied by the fans.
- BY ORDER OF THE CO-AUTHOR. Smolder.
While the audience waited, Twilight flew over to get to her seat where, she noticed next to Dawn, Pull, and Mango, Fancy Pants was talking to them. She lowered herself down into the last seat available next to them and said, “Fancy Pants? What are you doing here?”
“Princess Twilight,” Fancy gave her a polite bow. “I came here as a sponsor of this production to see what has become of it. Although I must say that I was rather surprised when Ocellus had suggested the idea. But, then again, I was promised a soundtrack so I could put on the radio.”
“And how’s that going?”
He smiled, “Better than I could ever hope for- oh! Where are have my manners gone to?”
“Don’t know.” Mango remarked, “Maybe it stepped out to get some popcorn.”
Fancy laughed, “These Gentlecolts are fantastic! Princess, do you know these three?”
“Yes,” Twilight said, “We’ve met.”
“So, is it true that this will be going to Bridleway?” Pull asked.
“That depends,” Fancy told him, “I’ve invited an old friend of mine who produces plays over there. If she likes it, she’ll no doubt buy the rights of the play so she could do it over there. But in the meantime, Ocellus promised me that after this is over, she’ll produce the soundtrack. To be honest, for a young lady, she is perhaps the most ambitious musician I’ve ever encountered.”
“Tell us about it.” All three older stallions said in unison.
“I mean, having her decide to come up with new songs, write up a script, pull a cast and staging together in roughly about the same time it takes for any theater Troup to rehearse is astonishing. If anything, I just hope it would be worthwhile.”
“Trust me,” Twilight replied to him, “my students have been working extra hard on this musical. From what I’ve heard, they’re proud of what they were able to come up with.”
“Ah! Looks like it’s about to start.” Fancy said, pointing over to the orchestra between the audience and the stage. The conductor, an old stallion in a tuxedo walked out and smiling courteously to the polite applause. He took his place on the conductor’s stand and stood there as the orchestra took a moment to tune-up.
Unexpectedly, the curtains went up, revealing a screen that was bathed in blue that stretched over the whole stage. As the orchestra tuned their instruments to a warm sound, the young actors of the cast walked on. There were shadows of students and Changelings moving a heavy set here, another putting on a costume there, someone setting up a stand-up door with a few suitcases nearby; and two Changelings flared up in flashes of green before getting into a bed, their backs against one another.
No one knew what to make of this as it was as if they were suddenly caught unprepared and yet, the shadows of the actors moved without bumping into anyone. Almost as if this was intentional. Even when a table with a chair was set up while a group of students rushed across the stage with instruments, they weaved between them in time so that neither touched the other during this rush.
It was surreal to see those shadows going back and forth setup up for the performance. Like the cast were almost breaking the fourth wall without doing so. While the actors carried random props and sets, no one knew what it all meant. Here a tree is pushed, there a submarine is pulled, and suddenly a roller-coaster was taken down.
But after the orchestra had tuned up, the screen raised to show on the left of the stage a slice of a bedroom with two sleeping ponies in it. Next to it, Ocellus writing something at a table with a door with a few suitcases behind her. And in the very front center of the stage, Smolder in a brass band uniform in red looked straight at the audience.
“Once upon a time,” Smolder said, “there was a young mare that ran away from home.”
The play began with a plucking harp and a choir of students that sang the opening. That one early morning, the young mare folded up a note that hoped to explain everything. She got up and quietly went to the back door where she picked up a few suitcases and a guitar case. Then, opening the door, she went through and gently closed it. As she did, the chorus sang aloud their wonder of why she would leave after everything. Turning around for a moment, the audience saw on her face relief, excitement and a pause of hesitation. A line from a solo singer explained she’s tired of living alone for so long – for now, she is free. The young mare grinned and exited off stage.
Meanwhile, one of the parents, the mother, wakes up to put on her dressing gown. She goes over to the table and noticing the letter, picks it up to read it. A look of shock and tears started to flow from her eyes, turning back to the bedroom.
“Our baby’s gone!” the mother said distraught. This jolted the father awake as his wife handed him the note. “Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly?”
While the parents wondered what they did that was wrong and the chorus beautifully sang over, a few of them came on stage to move the door, table, and the platform that the bed was on, being replaced with trees, a few park benches, and a gazebo in the middle before the song was finished.
A few ponies went about their business, not taking notice of Ocellus who entered back on stage before sitting down at the nearest bench.
“I think that should be far enough for now.” She said to herself. “Hopefully I can get over to the next town before they put up missing posters… And hopefully, I wouldn’t be found just yet.” Opening up one of the suitcases, she pulled out a sandwich. “Not until I can prove to them that I’m capable of taking care of myself. After all, I got food, some bits, clothes, and my guitar. All I need now… Are connections.” Looking around the park, she added, “I mean… it shouldn’t be that hard. Just go up to someone and say: ‘Hi, my name is Madonna, can I have a place to sleep for the night and a job? Any job would do.’” After taking a bite out of her sandwich, she added, “Or maybe… Can you be a friend? A real one I mean. I never had a choice in choosing who I wanted to be with before and… But how to do it? How do I make friends when I’m starting everything from scratch?”
As if answered by the universe, suddenly more of the cast came on stage towards the gazebo. Saying things like, “They’re almost here!” or “C’mon, it’s time!”
Ocellus, or rather, Madonna, blinked. “What’s going on?”
Suddenly a spotlight was aimed at the gazebo and then it moved across the stage, over the audience towards the back of the amphitheater where Smolder in the red band uniform. The audience turned where she announced loudly like a drill sergeant.
“So may I introduce to you!” she called out, waving an arm behind her, “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band!”
She led the way as a band in colorful uniforms marched in. Right behind Smolder, Silverstream was in light blue with a kazoo, Gallus in light green with a sneer-drum, Yona in yellow with a Yovidaphone, and Sandbar in pink with a trombone. It was an amusing sight for the audience seeing them in such a gaudy get up that earned a chuckle. But for Silverstream, Gallus, Yona, and Sandbar, they sang with pride of who they were and hoped that they would enjoy the show. In the meantime, they tell them to sit back and let their evenings go for what they have.
They sang of how great it is to be here, and with a wonderful audience, they wish that they could take them home. Smolder, however, flew up just behind the conductor to announce that she would like them to know that one of the band members is going to sing a song and wants them to sing along.
So, the band rushes up the stage and up to the gazebo where both the cast and audience applauded the end of the song. When it died out, and spotlights shone on Smolder, or (as far as the audience was concerned) Sgt. Pepper and Madonna, the Dragoness step forward.
“Thank you, thank you. Now let’s start this with an oldy but a goodie from Billy. Here he is to take the lead with ‘A Little Help From my Friends.’”
As the cast applauded, Gallus as “Billy” walked out as proud as could be like a ringmaster in a circus. He starts to sing that if he did so badly, would they leave? The cast shook their heads. So, he promises that he’ll sing a tune that he’ll be on the right key.
Madonna listened, her face with longing while the young Griffon praised the help he gets from his friends. Silverstream comes up next to him in which the song becomes a subtle duet. When Bill asked what he will do now that his love is gone, Silverstream replies if it hurts to be alone. She even asks him if he needs anybody, he tells her that he’ll take anyone if he could love back. The Changeling – along with the audience – could tell that this was a carefully designed love song where the Hippogriff was trying to give him hints but the Griffon not catching on. After all, he repeatedly says that he could get by with his friends.
Meanwhile, Madonna gets an idea as she turns to her guitar case to pull out her instrument. Yet, while the duet was going on, she hesitated, as if wondering if this was a good idea. After weighing her options, she waited until the end of the song and the applause to approach them.
“Uh…” She began weakly, then cleared her throat to speak a little louder. “Excuse me.” The cast and the band turned to her. “Sorry for interrupting, but who are you guys?”
“Really?” Sgt. Pepper deadpanned. “Did you not hear the song from earlier? I thought we’d made it clear.”
“Maybe she hadn’t heard?” Yona suggested.
“Should we play again?” Silverstream asked.
“Sure, why not.” Sandbar said, “And a one, two-”
“Hold up! Hold up!” Sgt. Pepper waved her claws. “We don’t have a reprise right now! Let’s introduce ourselves to the lady over here.” Turning back to the Changeling, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m Sargent Pepper, leader of the band. And these lunatics are as follows: this is Billy the Drummer,” she gestured over to Gallus; “this is Finny, the kazoo…ist?” Silverstream waved; “this is Hoovy, the Trombone player,” Sandbar nodded; “and this is Yaky the whatever-you-call-that-thing.”
Yona frowned, “Yovidaphone.”
“What she said. And who are you and what do you want?”
“Well… I’m Madonna and… I uh… want to join your band.”
The cast laughed, even Sgt. Pepper chuckled.
“I’m afraid you misunderstood.” The Dragoness explained, “The Lonely Hearts Club Band isn’t made out of armatures, mind you. We have the best of the best here. Unless…” She strokes her chin, “you prove yourself.”
“Like an audition?”
“More than that, it’s not just you’ll have to convince,” she waved a claw, “it’s everyone here. If they and we like it, you’re in.”
“Okay,” Madonna lifted her guitar. “So, what exactly-”
“Play or sing a song.”
“Make it a good one!” Hoovy interjected.
“O-Okay…” She looked down at her guitar for a moment. “Well… In that case, there is one song I know.” Clearing her throat, she started to play her guitar, “This was inspired by a word game that goes like this.” This line cueing the orchestra.
It was a simple song compared to the previous ones before. Yet, with the orchestra propelling it along with a steady drumbeat, mechanical organ, winds and strings that gave the song life. It sounded like a pop song that didn’t try to be superficial. It was something that the Cast was getting into, so much so, that they sang the simplified chorus that made them sway and they started to dance.
Even Madonna swayed in tune and was dancing with the other dances, waving in between them to spin, jump, dodge, and hop around this impromptu dance party. If anything, the dancing around her was from her commands in where she says this, they do. When she sings to stop, they stop. When she sings to go, they go. They jump high, then crouch low. Even waving Hello and Goodbye while twisting over another.
While this was going on, the Lonely Hearts Club Band started to discuss what they were seeing and hearing.
“You’ve got to admit Sarge,” Hoovy commented, “she has potential.”
“A bit simplistic,” Sgt. Pepper said thoughtfully, “still, she can carry a tune.”
“Her timing is good.” Billy snapped his talons. “Not to mention that does know how to play.”
“But good enough to join band?” Yaky questioned.
“Well look at them,” Sgt. Pepper pointed out to the dancing crowd. “Would it be a good idea not to?”
Finny looked over at the bench where she noticed a few suitcases there. “Look over there, she had those when we came in. Do you think… she’s like us?”
“As in… lonely?” Bill asked, all of them looking back at her.
The band fell silent as the chorus sang the main part of the song, going back and forth in different languages.
“Hello!”
“Adiós!”
“你好!”
“Hej då!”
Near the end, hula dancers came out of nowhere to finish off the final bars of her song. So, as the song ended, the chorus cleared the stage to where it was her and the band. Turning around, she asked them, “So… good enough?”
The Sargent told her to wait for a moment to call in for a band group huddle. For a moment, they muttered among themselves until they turned around. Magically, Sgt. Pepper had in her arms an orange uniform with a hat. “Good news, you’re in.”
Madonna thanked them and excitedly took the uniform in her aura.
“Now that you’re in our band,” Finny told her, “You’re going to need a nickname.”
“As in… come up with one?”
They nodded. “You don’t really think Sgt. Pepper is my real name, do you?” the Dragoness said cheekily. “No, we’ve made up new names for ourselves, so it makes it easier for the rest of us to remember. So, what do you want to be called now?”
After thinking it over for a moment, she said, “Call me… Stringy?”
The others nodded in agreement.
“So now we got you on,” Hoovy told her, “maybe we’ll be better than ever by the time we get to our new gig.”
“Why?” Madonna questioned, tilting her head. “Where we are going?”
“Ever heard of Pepperland?” Sgt. Pepper asked.
“Uh… Not really? I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”
“We’ve been there at least once,” Billy told her. “If anything, we’ve been preparing for years to earn patronage from… her.”
Finny nodded, “If you can make it to her court, we’ll be on top of the world.”
“Who are you talking about?” Madonna asked.
“You mean you’ve never heard of Luna?” Yaky inquired.
“In the sky?” Added Hoovy.
“With Diamonds?” finished Sgt. Pepper.
She shook her head. “No. But what’s Pepperland like? I never heard the name on any map before.” While the Changeling asked, the audience noticed that in the background, the bright blue sky was changing into a bright orange-pink. The trees and gazebo lit up with white Hearth’s Warming lights.
“Wow,” Hoovy sighed, “How do we describe it? It’s like…” He tapped on his chin in thought as the orchestra started up again with a new song.
From the orchestra, it began quietly with the plucking of soothing strings, as if to enter into a dream. Then as Hoovy began to sing, the audience heard the strumming of a sitar as he sings to imagine being on a boat on a river where the trees are tangerine and skies as orange as marmalade. A land where towers of yellow and green cellophane flowers grow. If you follow a mare with the sun in her eyes to a bridge by a fountain, they would find a village of rocking horse folks baking and consuming marshmallow pies. A place where newspaper taxies wait by the seashore to take you anywhere, next to the train stations has clay people with mirror ties.
Behind them, the screen became more surreal as if the very sky was changing. Turning from a pinkish-orange to a soft yellow with eyes which transformed into diamonds. Then it turned purple and shimmered like water with clouds of milk and colorful ink. However, this psychedelic imagery didn’t stop with the background. The trees and benches sway and waltzed in pairs. Even the gazebo sprouted into a giant sunflower.
Perhaps the strangest of all during this song was that above the stage itself with the overhead arch, stars appeared to make a constellation of a mare looking down.
Meanwhile, back in the audience, Twilight thought that it now explained why Discord was credited for some of the special effects.
When the song was over and the stage reverted to a normal park setting, Madonna was fully entranced by this. “That sounds fantastic! So how far is it?”
“Firstly, we need to get to the middle of nowhere,” Sgt. Pepper told her. “There’s a bus that’s going to take us there. And from there, it’s a journey across the sea.”
“In other words,” Finny further explained, “far, far, and further away still.”
“Perfect!” Madonna grinned as she rushed over to get the rest of her language. The band offered to help her out.
“So, I have a question for you,” Bill asked, “why are you so eager to join us?”
“Truthfully? This would be an escape from what I’m getting away from.”
The other band members looked at one another.
“Yeah…” Sgt. Pepper nodded as they all headed off stage. “We’re trying to get away from a few things too.”
The stage went dark and there was an applause.
From the lights of the orchestra, they could make out the shadows of the cast pushing, pulling and carrying off the park set and replacing it with something else. When they came back up, it was a sandy beach. The backdrop was a projection of the shore with waves coming back and forth. It wasn’t completely empty, however, as there was a small tin shack that stood crooked against the sky. The audience noticed that the curtains made this scene a little narrow as if to hide something.
This was the setting that the Lonely Hearts Club Band entered in with their instruments. Sgt. Pepper walked contently in this barren landscape. “Smell that?” She asked, breathing in deeply. “We’re good and lost now.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Madonna went up to her. “What do you mean lost? I thought you knew where you’re going.”
“That’s the idea. If you want to find something that isn’t easily found you have to be lost, otherwise, everyone else would know where to find it.”
“Where are we?” Yaky looked about. “There’s nothing here but shack.”
“Maybe whoever lives here,” Finny went up to the tinny door, “probably knows how to get to Pepperland!” She knocked on the hollow structure before it fell over onto itself. “Hopefully nobody’s home.”
“Who knocked do my easily collapsible house!” The band turned to the voice the was coming from off stage. Enter on the stage was a tall teenage colt dressed up like an old fishermare, complete with boots, a yellow raincoat and hat, and dragging a net. “Who did this?” he demanded.
“Sorry.” Finny said, “I was only knocking to see if anyone was home.”
“You know it’s not nice to go about knocking others' houses,” he said, marching over to the collapsed pile of tin that was once his home. “How’d you feel if I come over to your house and knock it down without you doing so?”
“I… what?”
“Nobody should knock down their dwelling place except for the ones that live in it – that’s what!” He went around the pile of tine and ducking his head underneath one of the walls, pushed it back up to where the shack was back to what it once was. “There’s no satisfaction if someone else does it. It only works if the place I own comes down on my own terms. Watch.” He went around and with a swift buck, the house collapsed again. “Ah, now that’s satisfying. So what do you lot want?”
At first, not knowing what to make of this, Hoovy stepped forward. “Uh, hi there. We’re the Lonely Hearts Club Band. Do you happen to know a way to get to Pepperland from here?”
“Do I know it?” the fishermare laughed, “You know what I am lad?”
“A crazy fisher guy that knocks down his shack for kicks?”
“And! A retired captain. Old Fred, that’s what they used to call me.”
“Who calls you?” Finny asked.
“Nopony for now, but I was once captain of a submarine where we charted every other land from these shores and… that way.” He pointed to the background. “And I can be certain that over there is Pepperland. You can only make it by sea.”
“Ah great,” Billy folded his arms, “now how are we supposed to get over there?”
“There’s always the submarine.”
“Where?”
“Right over,” he turned around and noticed the curtains were in the way. “Oi! You lazy half-drawn winches! Open the stage up more!” The curtains moved further apart to a new set piece – a submarine that was painted yellow.
“Huh…” Madonna blinked, “How come we didn’t notice that before?”
“This is great!” Hoovy stepped forward, “Can you take us over there?”
“Not without paying you don’t!” Old Fred waved a hoof.
The band looked at one another. “Okay…” Madonna pulled out a purse, “So how much would you-”
“I don’t accept bits.” He interrupted, “Nor do I accept cards or cash.”
Billy tilted his head. “Well, what do you accept? Cans of Anchovies?”
He shook his heads. “You’re all a band, aren’t ya? Well, how about I make you a deal. I’d be willing to take you all across the sea if you can make up a good song on the spot.”
“Why?” Yaky questioned.
“Because where you’re planning to go, to Pepperland, being able to make music on the fly will make all the difference in the world between success and death. So, c’mon now. Let’s hear it.”
Sgt. Pepper called in for a group huddle where this time, the audience can hear what they’re saying. “Okay so… do any of you got any ideas?”
“Wait,” Madonna interjected, “can’t any of you improvise?”
“Not unless it’s something we know,” Hoovy informed her. “Why, can you improvise a song?”
“I…” looking over her shoulder, she took in her surroundings of the empty beach and the old sea captain. Turning back to the band, she said, “I got an idea! It’s in common time in E major. I’ll make it short, but I think it’ll do the trick.”
“What do you want us to do?” Finny asked.
“I’ll play out the first couple of bars to give the rest of you an idea what to do and then, I’ll cue you by nodding towards you. Got it? Good. Just follow my lead.” Breaking the group huddle to where Billy went off stage for a moment to pull in a drum set that looked like it was molded by the sand. Sgt. Pepper and Hoovy went off stage to retrieve a guitar and bass that looked as sandy as the drum set. Madonna walked over towards Old Fred saying that she’s got a song for him.
This time, the audience was pleasantly surprised that the orchestra had taken a break to where the only sound that could be heard was the Changeling’s voice, a couple of guitars, a bass, and a drum set. It sounded like the songs that Ocellus would normally sing except the lyrics were wacky.
What was being sung was about a nowheremare who doesn’t have to go anywhere or a point of view, blind and in no rush. At the same time, Madonna urged, that the nowheremare has no idea what they're missing because there’s a big world out there. Yet, no one is rushing to go anywhere so she tells him to take all the time needed until someone lends in some help. After all, the world is at his command.
Meanwhile in the audience, Fancy Pants leaned over to Pull and Dawn, “I must say,” he whispered, “Although this play does not make any sense, the music is top-notch.”
“It’s best to turn off your mind,” Dawn advised, “Just go along with things.”
“Not to sound mean, but the play might need a rewrite. The music, however, is fascinating. For the most part, it’s like every genre and yet, it is it's own. I can see why this would do better as a soundtrack.”
Twilight shushed them.
Back on stage, Old Fred at first seemed unimpressed as he stood by his easily collapsible house. However, as the song went on, the audience can see his hooves started tapping to the beat, and by the end of the song, he was dancing to where he tapped dance on his collapsed house.
When the song ended, much to the applause of the audience, the last one to clop his hooves was the old sea captain. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! That’s the kind of music that will get you to survive anything!”
“Does that mean you’ll take us to Pepperland?” Sgt. Pepper asked, the guitar crumbling in her claws.
“Oh Goddesses, no! I’m crazy, not suicidal. But I think I can get you close enough for you to make it the rest of the way on hoof.”
“That’s great!” Finny jumped for joy. “At least it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Now come along! Let’s start her up.”
The band grabbed their things and made the climb up onto the yellow submarine.
“Never been in Submarine before,” Yaky remarked. “It seemed so cramped.”
“You’ll get used to it.” Old Fred replied.
The audience heard the turning of wheels, grinding of gears, and a machine is activated where the submarine pulled away from the stage, yet a spotlight followed it even when the curtains were drawn. The spotlight followed offstage until the audience got the biggest surprise of the night so far as the Yellow Submarine popped out and moved around them.
“Ah, now this is more like it.” Old Fred said, sticking his head out. “The open sky and a sea of faces.”
“So how long until we get to wherever we’re going?” Bill asked, peeking through one of the portholes.
“Oh, by a song and an intermission. Speaking of which, this reminds me of a song I used to sing as a colt.”
“Wow,” Sgt. Pepper commented, her face appearing in another porthole. “That’s got to be the laziest transition to a song I’ve heard.”
“Well hold on,” Old Fred said, “I haven’t sung it yet.”
“Fine.” Sgt. Pepper moaned, “But if it sucks, it’s all on you.”
So the old sea captain started a ballad wherefrom his home town he met a stallion who told about his life about the land of submarines. One day he sailed out towards the sun where he found a peaceful place where he sailed on a sea of green. From that day on, he sang how they lived on a Yellow Submarine.
Despite how he sang they lied a life of ease, the band below him, meanwhile, either tried to figure out how to work the submarine or drown him out by their instruments. Through the portholes, the audience can see that the band had different reactions to this song. Sgt. Pepper and Billy were plugging their ears. Finny was peeking through one of the periscopes, as Yaky was pushing buttons to make the submarine do all sorts of things such as turning it into a bonsai tree to a cigarette lighter. Meanwhile, Madonna was playing her guitar to play along with the singing captain.
By the time the song had ended, the submarine has moved all around the audience and returned back to the stage. There was applause as it was announced that the second act will begin again in fifteen minutes. As ponies were getting up to stretch their legs, Fancy turned to Twilight. “You have to admit, this is a rather odd play.”
“I think that was the intention. The students said they were putting on a nonsense play and, well, that’s what we got.”
“I understand that but…” He tapped his chin, “I can’t help but feel that somehow… it didn’t go all the way with its insanity. So far, we had a young mare running away from home, met a colorful band in which she decided to join, they moved on to a beach where a crazy hermit is willing to take them out to sea for a song. It feels like something is missing.”
“Just remember, this is only the first act. I’m sure the second will meet your expectations.”
“Oh, it will,” Pull told both of them. “Trust us, if you didn’t think it was that crazy, wait until they get to the outskirts of Pepperland.”
Fifteen minutes later the curtains rose again. The first thing the audience heard was a simple bass lick as if the musician was trying to come up with something. Lights went up to a scene of three sirens lunging on the sharp rocks by the sea. One was a light green, one was orange, and one was white. The two of them (the green and orange) sat on higher rocks, looking down disapprovingly at the third who fiddled and experimented with a bass guitar.
The one with the instrument looked up at the two. “What?”
“You’ve been playing that thing for hours now.” The orange one said. “And I don’t see what’s so useful carrying that thing around.”
“I’ve been thinking,” the white siren plucked a few chords, “suppose if we learn how to use these things, it would enhance our magic to lure lost sailors in.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Quarto,” the green siren replied. “I know you may be inexperienced with these things. But practicing your voice is more than enough. There’s no need to… how shall I say this? Reinvent what’s already perfect.”
“But Nocturne,” Quarto protested, “I don’t see the effort of just singing alone if you can’t make it interesting.”
“Is that so?” the green siren said unconvinced. “And I suppose that you could do a better job while playing that thing?”
“Actually Suite, yes I can. I’d bet that I could sing absolute nonsense from the top of my head and I would get land-dwellers to gladly jump off the boat and swim closer to these rocks without your help.”
“My, my” Nocturne smirked, “getting ambitious, are we? Now let’s see…” She scanned around to try to find any vessels around when the Yellow Submarine came into view. “If you are so convinced, try it on that ship over there.”
“Alright! I will!” Standing up high on her perch she started to adjust the setting of her guitar.
The lights dimmed as a spotlight shone on the submarine when suddenly, the hatch swing open to the sound of the Captain still singing “Yellow Submarine,” while the band made a rush for it to be on the surface of the vessel and shut the door tightly.
“Silence!” Yaky said happily, “Sweet silence!”
“Goddess!” Billy exclaimed, “Whoever knew that old guy could sing the exact same song for days?”
“I admit,” Madonna said, “The tune was catchy at first, but now it’s-”
“Annoying?” The band asked.
“Obnoxious beyond belief, yes.”
“So how close are we to Pepperland?” Hoovy inquired, looking around, “I think I see land over there.”
“Uh…” Sgt. Pepper pointed at the sirens, “Hey, what are those?”
Finny looked over and saw the white siren holding up a bass and a claw raised. “Cover your ears!”
The siren began to play along with the Orchestra, two violent notes followed by a guitar lick that repeated for a few bars. This opening alone was intriguing to the ear, but Quarto started to sing, it was hypnotic. With her singing nonsense, it almost sounded like she was reciting a powerful spell with her voice. A voice that rang everywhere and nowhere. That it was beautiful when screaming and seductive when quiet. It sounded as if it was of thousands of voices at once and yet, it was coming out of a single mouth.
Unfortunately for the band, only Finny and Madonna covered their ears. Sgt. Pepper, Billy, Yaky, and Hoovy were caught in the surreal sounds of the siren’s singing. They were hypnotized by it to where they were mindlessly walking towards the very front of the submarine.
“We have earmuffs on board,” Finny said, quickly opening the hatch, “make sure they don’t jump off!”
“How?”
“You’re a shapeshifter, just change into something to keep them on! And keep your ears covered!” Finny hopped back into the Yellow Submarine while Madonna franticly tries to figure out what to do. Suddenly, she gets an idea and in a green flash, she turns into a Giant Squid. Quickly she wrapped an arm around each of the band members while using the rest to hand onto the sub. However, those hypnotic creatures struggled against her grip especially when the siren sings with absolute passion “Come together!”
“Hurry up!” Madonna cried when she felt her new friends were slipping away. Finny did come back with clawfuls of earmuffs and set about to put one on each of the band members. However, before she could put the last earmuff on Yaky, Madonna lost her grip and she jumped into the blue fabric sea.
“What the…” Sgt. Pepper blinked as she and the remaining bandmates looked around. “What just happen?”
“Mare overboard!” Finny rushed over to the side and, touching the chip pearl necklace, turned into a seapony and dove into the ocean of waving cloth.
“She’s going to need help,” Billy said, going over in after her.
In the blue fabric sea, Finny and Billy fought to pull Yaky out of the soft water. However, the Yak was so entranced by the strange siren song.
Meanwhile, on the rocks, the other two sirens could do nothing but gawk over the fact that Quarto was doing it! Although it was clear that she was making it up as she went, and unorthodox was her singing with an instrument, the crew on the submarine it seemed were jumping into the water. Especially as the Yak was using all her strength to come closer to the rocks. Her voice, while incredibly beautiful, was at the same time sounded more deranged, hysterical even while she spouted random words out of her mouth like a madmare. Creepier still, while they do what they can to help, Quarto’s grin grew wider as she sings this near-insane song with a riff to go with it
Even the strings in the orchestra added the tension that was going on stage. As if the violins and violas were sharpening the stress of the situation for both actors and the audiences. Like devils that cheered for another band member to jump into the fabric water and closer to a strong current to drag them into the sharp rocks.
“We’ve got to do something!” Madonna said looking around, “Where’s the rope?”
“Be right back,” Sgt. Pepper duck backs into the sub and pulled out a coil of rope. “I don’t know if it’s long enough to reach them.”
Thinking quickly, Madonna, still in her squid form, told her and Hoovy to hang on to one end of the rope as she went in after them. Taking the other, she dove right into the blue fabric water and swam as quick as she could to the other three members. Even when the rope didn’t stretch long enough, she used her tentacles to stretch as far as she could to reach them.
However, Quarto was delighted as she played a celebrity solo now that the Yak was caught in the current, dragging her, Finny and Billy, Madonna, as well as yanking Hoovy and Sgt. Pepper into the water. All of the band were sucked in with no hope of escape to crash among the rocks and sinking underneath.
Smirking, Quarto looked up at the other two Sirens with pride. The audience applauded the song before the other two Sirens could say a word.
“Okay, okay,” Nocturne said, “You’ve proven your point.”
“For now,” Suite got up as the ocean of fabric rose, “there’s no time to argue with the results, we have a job to do.”
The three Sirens dove into the water.
Now the scene changed to a rather disturbing sight. As the fabric of blue rose higher and higher, the audience can see the band was underwater, trying to swim up without drowning. Many of them were holding their breaths except for those that could breath such as Finny and Madonna who changed herself into a seapony. All of the actors were suspended in the air against the deep blue backdrop with fabric fishes swimming by and cloth bubbles slowly escaping their mouths.
And then, a strange sound arose from not just the orchestra but all around the audience. It sounded deep, uneven, and terrifying. Then the drums let out an aggressive rhythm as the Sirens floated down from above the stage. All around there was a burst of demonic laughter with other bazaar sounds as if played backward that spun around the Audience at neck-breaking speed.
When the Sirens sang, they did it as one. If Quarto’s solo was hypnotic, three of them were mind-melting. In harmony with the otherworldly sounds, they sang to the band to let go of their struggle. Taking off the earmuffs. Telling them to relax and go with the current, they’re not dying. They should surrender to the abyss.
Each band member they try to seduce to let go and drop further into the sea. Playfully pulling them further and further down. Inviting them with a smile into oblivion. The closer they got to one of them, the more they sink. At the same time, Madonna and Finny were trying what they could to pull them back up closer to the surface. However, the Sirens made it difficult as they outnumber them to get their friends air. It was a dangerous game as they went deeper and deeper.
Seeing that this was getting them nowhere, swam over to Finny while one of the Sirens play a Guitar solo.
“We need to get away from them,” Madonna said. “Let’s take them to the shore.”
“You get the Sargent and Yaky,” Finny told her, “I’ll get Hoovy and Billy.”
So quickly, they snatched their friends and swam towards the right of the stage. But even as they did, the Sirens were right behind them as they continued to sing their song. Perhaps it was their magic that the sea started to change from deep blue, to green, to purple, to red, to yellow, to sparking, to plaid, to cardigan tigers, to floating toothbrushes, Zebrican masks, a haunted mansion, a foal’s drawing, etc… the underwater sea became increasingly strange. It was like watching a stage malfunction or the scenery going mad.
Suddenly the Sirens swam up and disappeared in time that the fleeing band was suddenly caught in a force that despite their swimming, they were floating backward. They were being sucked into a force that made them drift closer to the stage floor and all the weird scenery went flying by them. So much so, that Madonna and Finny grip and slipped and together, they were falling and colliding with one another.
Then when they were all back at the deep blue fabric, they swirled around one another, drifting towards the floor when the backdrop fell on them. As the sound of the Sirens died out. It covered them all and revealing a new scene of a beach where nearby there was a field of strawberries and a single tree that a piano was strung up to it.
The band was washed ashore as the orchestra grew quiet; along with their instruments that floated and drifted onto the sand. They coughed while Madonna and Finny transformed back to their former selves. Sgt. Pepper got up. “Is everyone not dead?” They all confirmed this. “Okay… And it looks like the important bits have survived… whatever that was.”
“Where are we?” Yaky inquired.
“If I have to hazard a guess,” Hoovy said as he removed his hat in which blue ocean fabric fell out. “I’d say that we’re not too far away from Pepperland.”
“Oh joy,” Madonna flopped onto the sand, exhausted, “it’s just going to get weirder from here on out, isn’t it?”
“Look on the bright side,” Billy said, pointing at the plants. “At least we’re next to a strawberry patch. We have food laying all over.”
Sgt. Pepper nodded, “How about this: since we need a break from the Cirque du Soleil from Tartarus, how about we rest for a moment, have some strawberries, and then go on our way. All in favor?”
“Aye!” Said the rest of the band. Billy volunteered to go gather some of the berries while the others try to catch their breaths.
“So…” Sgt. Pepper said, turning to Madonna, “While we’re taking a break from all that crazy, you mind if I ask you something that has bothered me since you came along?”
“Yeah?”
“So… Why did you join?” she asked, “I mean no offense, you seem kinda young to be way out here with us.”
“Really?” Madonna scratched her head, “You want to hear this?”
“Well, why not?” Hoovy flipped over to her. “This isn’t called the Lonely Hearts Club Band for nothing. All of us here got here because we wanted to get away or getting towards something. Take for example Billy over there,” he pointed at the Griffon. “He was in a relationship with a marefriend of his for a couple of years until, one day, she left him for someone else. He’s here with us, not only he could sing and play well, but the truth is he needs us because he doesn’t want to be alone.”
“Tell you what?” Sgt. Pepper told her, “If we told you a little bit of ourselves, would you do the same?” Madonna agreed. “Okay, so… It may come to a surprise, but my name isn’t Pepper, nor am I a Sargent. Yeah, shocking, right? Well, what you need to know about me is that I’m a refugee. Where I come from, things have been falling apart so I went somewhere where I could start again from scratch. Over time, I ran into these weirdos, these outcasts like myself. We form a band where they nominate me, leader. That’s why they call me Sargent.”
“Yaky just need help. After coming of age, Yaks send children out into world to become Adult. Yaky ran into band when Yaky was having trouble in taking care of self. World hard to take care by one self, having friends makes life easier.”
“I’ll go next,” Finny raised her claw. “To be honest, I was feeling lonely back home because I was having trouble finding love that I felt sorry for myself for not having a special someone. But when the band came to town, I decided to follow them because they gave me a couple of good friends to connect with.”
They turned to Hoovy, “I’m here because… well… I’m bored. My family, while well off, there isn’t anything much excitement, nothing to look forward to. But then, when I found this band, suddenly I’ve been going on adventures to new places, meeting new creatures with these guys. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but regardless of what happens, we put up with whatever changes come in our way. And not knowing what’s going to come next is, honestly, exciting to me.”
“Your turn now,” Sgt Pepper turned back to Madonna, “So what’s your story?”
She cleared her throat, “I wanted to make a point.”
“To who?” Yaky inquired.
“Of what?” Asked Hoovy.
“That I can do things on my own. Look, as much as I love my parents, they don’t see my age. They look at me and only see me as the foal that was, but not the grownup that I’ve become. It has gotten to a point where they see me as defenseless and not prepared for the outside world that I don’t think they see me as a thinking creature and instead, they see me as a collectible doll that should be kept in a glass box for all eternity. It’s why I’ve wanted to join you. I want to prove to them and myself that I’m not defenseless.”
The rest of the band went quiet for a few seconds. Eventually, Yaky spoke up: “Wow… that’s heavy. Even for us.”
“What is?” Billy asked, came back to the group with armfuls of tennis ball-sized strawberries. “If nothing, then how about we munch on these a little before we head off?” While he was doing that, the orchestra began to play softly. The first thing the audience heard was what sounded like an organ being played backward.
After passing the oversized strawberries around, Billy gets in the first bite. He froze and his eyes went wide. “Oh my…” he turned to his bandmates, “Guys! Try this!”
“What? Hoovy asked, “Are they that good?”
“Just try it! This… Wow…”
Curious, the rest of the band took a bite, just in time to hear a sudden chord of an electric guitar, followed by an odd-sounding choir that invites them all to come down to Strawberry Fields. The lights started to change to waves of color that ebbed and flow. The Strawberry patch was moving and swaying while hooves were plucking at the strings behind the piano by the tree.
“Hey…” Sgt. Pepper nodded at her partially eaten strawberry. “This isn’t half bad.”
“These are so good.” Madonna moaned in delight.
“Maybe we should stay a little,” Billy suggested.
“Not long,” Yaky said, “Band still needs-”
“Just a few minutes,” Finny said happily, “We’re not that big of a rush, are we?”
“Party at Strawberry Fields!” Hoovy rushed in, and the others followed.
As the song continued, the bushes shook off to where ponies from different eras pop up. Here, a Conquistador offers another strawberry to Sgt. Pepper. There a Samurai leads the song with Yaky joining in. In the back, Hoovy downs a bottle with a powdered wig Prench aristocrat. From the front, Finny feeds a Pharaoh a strawberry. Behind the piano tree, Billy sings along with a Pegasi Centurion. And right next to the piano was Madonna with a ragtime player at the keys.
The music itself was relaxed, but at the same time, something was unsettling about the tone. Especially when the choirs sang that nothing about this is real. At times, it almost sounded like the instruments were playing backward. And at others, the guitar seemed to fade in and out or lost touch with reality. Even chords were wobbly and uncertain. The resulting sound was strange, otherworldly, and yet, not unfamiliar as music.
On stage, it became a little more apparent that something was off to the audience. While the band moved about, the other singers in period costumes didn’t. Some noticed that they stood directly above the strawberry plants that they pop up from. And those who got a closer look in the front rows saw that the vines intertwined with their legs. Even growing out from them as well.
Perhaps, more disturbingly, the longer any of them stood in one place, the more time is given to other vines to crawl up their legs. Trying to root them into the ground.
Eventually, near the end of the song, as the music seems to go backward very fast, another sound was heard from the piano player. Before Madonna could take another bite of a strawberry, her ears picked up. “Hey,” she said, “I recognize that tune. Isn’t that the Maple Leaf Rag?”
“It certainly is ma’am,” the ragtime player smiled up at her.
“Oh, that’s a classic old-timey tune.”
The piano player blinked. “Old-timey? It just came out this year.”
Now it was her turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, this year?” Madonna blinked. “899. This is only a few months old.”
Madonna dropped her strawberry and looked around. As if waking up from a dream, she started to notice her surroundings, especially at the vines that were trying to grow on her. She jumped and hovered over the stretching vines and quickly glanced at her friends that the plants were trying to lock them in place.
She went over to Sgt. Pepper. “Sarge? Hey Sargent!”
“Hm?”
“I think we need to get out of here.”
“What for?” She asked, picking another strawberry, about to put it in her mouth. “We just got here.” Madonna knocked it out of her claw. “Hey, what-”
“I’m very sorry about this Sargent.” She said before giving her a loud smack across the face. This given the desired effect as the Dragoness started to wake up.
“Ow… wha? What’s going on?”
“We need to get out of here, now!”
The two of them went to each member to wake them up, insisting that they should flee while they still could. However, as they did so, the ponies around them bid for them to stay in paradise. Yet they took their instruments and ran off stage before the lights went out.
After the applause from the audience, the curtains were drawn, to which the band walks back on stage.
“Okay, so can anycreature please explain to me what we just ran away from?” Billy demanded.
“Those strawberries you gave us,” Sgt. Pepper explained, “I think they were poisonous or something.” She rubbed her head, “I couldn’t think straight.”
“It’s like the lotus-eaters,” Madonna said, “the more you eat them, the more addicted you were to the point that you didn’t want to leave.”
“Were we there long?” Yaky inquired.
“No idea,” Hoovy said. “But we should keep moving towards Pepperland. We just follow the shore until we reached it.”
“Hopefully soon,” Yaky nodded. Behind them, the curtains went up to show the shadows of tents and booths. “This place no good at dark.”
“Well, maybe we could…” Whatever was on Sgt. Pepper’s lips fell when they heard the distant sounds of carnival music. Turning around, they see the stage began to light up with lights and bright colors. Grape lights illuminated the tents and games where ponies went about having fun. “Was this here before?”
“Hey,” Billy pointed out, “If there’s a carnival, there must be a town nearby. And if there’s a town nearby, that means we can rest there for the night.”
“Or maybe it could be another trap.” Sgt. Pepper said. “Still, we need a place to rest so we’ll check this place out.”
As the band started to enter into the fairgrounds, they walk past small crowds that carried clouds of cotton candy, popcorn, and freshly roasted peanuts. Here, there, and everywhere else, carnival games were being played from ring toss to knocking down pins with a ball. In the background of this scene, the audience can see a moving fairs wheel and a roller coaster in lights. Yet, in the center of all of this was a big tent with a spotlight to lit up to a small platform in the middle.
Stepping into the spotlight, a Zebra mare with a top hat and a red ringmaster’s coat stepped up. “Mares and Gentlecolts!” she declared. “Come in! Come close! My name is Madame Fanqie, and here at the Carnival of Light, we bring you some of the most incredible, unusual feats in all the world! We got freaks, we got acrobats, magicians and more! Those afar, come near, and witness to the strangest show you’ll ever see! Tonight,” she pointed upwards, “we’ll be hosting a performance for being the benefit of Mr. Kite!”
As spotlights broke off from the mare and wobble upwards here and there, the audience heard from the Orchestra the sounds of a carnival pipe organ and a sneer-drum playing a whimsical tune.
Madame Fanqie begins to sing when the spotlights shine on an Earth Pony stallion wearing a blue kite costume, doing flips on the flying trapezes and trampolines. Here and there, the stallion performing would spin, fall, bounce, and fly over from one suspended trapeze to the other. However, Mr. Kite wasn’t alone. In yellow, a couple maneuvers and help the stallion over each other with hoops and garters. Even this circus act came included with flammable rings in which the acrobats did successfully fly through successfully.
Meanwhile, in the audience, Starlight was fixated on this, drooling.
It wasn’t just the air that was getting attention. On the stage, as if appeared out of nowhere, there were clowns, fire eaters, jugglers, bearded mares, conjoint twins, and contortionists. Together, they took turns between performing their acts and dancing with the carnival-goers. Even the band had to navigate this colorful parade, this three-ring circus to get up to the Ring Master.
However, they had difficulty trying to get there as suddenly there were ponies on bicycles and unicycles crisscrossing the stage doing tricks and flips in time to the trapeze artists above them. They balanced themselves on a single wheel one moment, then taking turns to bounce on a ball without hitting each other the next.
The audience at this point noticed that despite being such a short song, there was so much going on all at once. However, when it did end, they were entertained enough to give it applause.
“Hey, excuse us,” Sgt. Pepper called out. “Hey, Ringmaster, over here!”
Madame Fanqie finally took notice of the band. “Oh? Now, who would these colorful characters be?” She asked stepping down from her platform.
“My name is Sgt. Pepper, and this is my Lonely Hearts Club Band. Forgive us barging in like this, but we hope that you could give us some directions.”
“A traveling band I see… Where are you trying to go?”
“Pepperland.”
The Zebra mare gave a low whistle. “My my… Unless you know a shortcut, you have such a long walk ahead of you.”
“Or perhaps,” Madonna pipe up, “you could lead us to a nearby town for us to get some sleep?”
She shook her head. “No can do, this carnival is the only source of civilization that’s two weeks from everywhere. And Pepperland alone… I’m afraid it’s much further if you don’t know a short-cut.”
“What shot-cut?” The whole band asked.
Madame Fanqie mused over for a moment. “That depends. What do I get in exchange?”
“What are you talking about?” Billy inquired.
“Here at the Carnival of Light, you don’t get much for nothing. Sometimes, you have to trade for something like bits or favors. So, if I told you a short-cut to Pepperland, what will you give me in return?”
“Well…” Sgt. Pepper looked around, “We are a band, and we could play a song or two for you.”
“Yes… but all of you want a place to sleep tonight as well. So that means you might owe me a favor.”
Madonna raised a hoof. “In theory, if we said yes to this favor, what exactly is it?”
The Zebra Ringmaster smiled, “Well, we are hosting a dog show tomorrow morning. But the band I have is running out of fresh tunes. I suppose that if you agree to do that and give something original, I’ll let you stay here for free and give you directions to that short-cut. So what do you say?” She reached out her hoof. “Deal?”
Looking behind her at the band, they nodded to her to agree. So Sgt. Pepper reached out her claw to grasp the Ringmaster. “Deal.” And the lights faded to applause.
In the dark, the audience could see the setting of the set was being moved around here and there is a confusion of props and actors getting ready in position for the next scene. There were also flashes of green flames here and there as the Changeling actors turned into something else.
When the lights went up, the band was standing on a platform in the middle of a big top tent with rows upon rows of spectators. The stage itself was crawling with Timberwolves, Diamond Dogs, Cerberus, Werewolves, an apomorphic gray wolf with an annoyed look on his face carrying a sign that said, “I Swear I’m Not a Furry.” And many more other strange canine creatures swarming around the band.
Sgt. Pepper’s expression was anything but amusement. If anything, it was sarcastic. “Just a dog show, she says. It’ll be easy, she says.”
“So, who said that this may be a trap again?” Billy asked. “Still, no time for blaming here.”
“He’s right.” Finny agreed. “We got to do something.”
“Great!” Yaky nodded, “How about singing?”
“Yaky, I don’t think-” Sgt. Pepper began saying but was quickly interrupted.
“No, she’s right,” Madonna said. “I think that’s our way out. We all practiced that new song from last night, right?”
“How’s that going to help?”
“Well look around,” Hoovy waved a hoof. “Do we have much of a choice?”
Sighing, Sgt. Pepper picked up her baton. “Here goes something. A one, two, three, four!”
At first, there was a low bass rhythm like a drumbeat. Then a guitar was added on top of it before a defiant piano rang out, getting the canine creature’s attention. The band builds up their sound a little louder and more aggressive to where Sgt. Pepper, Finny, Yaky, and Madonna stepped forward to sing as a quartet.
While what they sang was sympathetic, that all of them had tried finding happiness and innocence, only to find their brand of solitude, the tune wasn’t sad. The band kept it upbeat, yet had a wild edge at every bar. Playful as a puppy and at the same time had the bite of a wolf. A perfect contradiction in a dog show that could easily turn against them.
At the same time, two things happened at once. On stage, the odd canines were tossed enormous beach balls where a game that was a cross between dodgeball and volleyball erupted. For a moment, the creatures seemed to have forgotten about the band and focused on the flying oversized balls that went over one another’s heads. And in the audience, they were entertained by the rock song enough to stomp a hoof to the beat.
Meanwhile in the audience, Fancy Pants leaned over again to the composers. “Not to sound like a broken record,” he whispered, “I don’t know if presenting this as a play would work in the long run.”
“Maybe not,” Pull whispered back, “But you can tell that they’re having fun with it.”
“Yes, but to me, I think this would have worked better as a soundtrack or letting them be played as their individual songs. If it were on their own, it would be best, but stringing these into one narrative seems jarring to my tastes. While I don’t have much faith in this play, I do think that once these songs hit the radio, fans will go crazy for them.”
Once again, Twilight shushed them.
Minutes later when it looks like the creatures have been tamed and shooed away offstage, Madame Fanqie the Ringmaster came on. “Now that was performance was it not? Give this bad the applause they deserve!”
Once that applause did die out, Sgt. Pepper went up to her. “Okay, we did your favors, now which way to Pepperland?”
“As much as I love to have you stay for being so fantastic… we did make a deal. Come, I will show you the shortcut. She went up on the platform and pushing a few of the band members away, she craned down to have her teeth pull on a rope to open a trapdoor. “There it is.”
The whole band blinked. “That’s it?” Hoovy asked.
“That’s it.” The Ringmaster nodded. “Follow the tunnel and it will lead you to a path. Follow that path until you start to sneeze. And when you sneeze, you’ll find a gate. And beyond that is Pepperland.”
Although the band did thank her and descended into the trapdoor, Billy remarked before the scene came to a close, “Well it can’t get any weirder than this.”
Once again, the stage went dark and there was applause while the actors cleared the stage until nothing remained except for a black void. When the Band came on stage, they were illuminated by a few spotlights’ overheads.
“Ya know,” Billy said pointing out, “for a so call ‘shortcut’ it’s certainly taking forever. Where are we anyway?”
“No idea,” Sgt. Pepper looked around, “We’ve been going down for a really long time now. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re in the center of the world or something.”
Finny stopped to look around. “You don’t suppose we’ve been tricked again, do you?”
Yaky sniffed. “Is it me, or does cave smell funny?”
“Hold on…” Madonna knelt down to pick something up.
“What is it?” Hoovy inquired. “Dust?”
She held up the powder close to her nose and sneezed. “No… It’s gowned pepper.”
“Huh?” Billy knelt down just like the rest of the band did to give the powder a sniff; and one by one, they sneezed.
“So, I take it we’re close to Pepperland.” Sgt. Pepper sniffed.
“Closer than you know.” Said a new voice that echoed in the darkness. “Really, I’m shocked that it took anyone else this long to find the gate.”
The band, like the audience, looked around this way to figure out where that voice was coming from.
“Who said that?” Sgt. Pepper demanded. “What do you want?”
“Funny,” in the back of the middle of the stage, a pair of glowing pink eyes opened, “I was going ask you all the same thing.” The band turned and as if being drawn out by a paintbrush, the creature came into being. It had the head of a ram, the eyes of a seagull, the spines of a pufferfish, the torso of a tuxedo cat, the tail of an iguana, a left-foreleg of an ape, the right a dragon, the left-hindleg of a flamingo and the right a slug. “I suppose I should at least introduce myself. My name is Xhiskchato, or the Gatekeeper to make things simple.”
“Gatekeeper?” Yaky tilted her head. “To what?”
“Oh, nothing much, just to a little kingdom called… Pepperland.”
“Really?” Madonna looked around. “Where’s the gate?”
The Gatekeeper giggled, “Oh you don’t think I would let it be so obvious that anyone could just mombo right in, do you? No, I have to make it appear. But I don’t make it appear until I’m certain the ones who want in should be let in. And if I’m to do that, you would have to be creative enough to enter.”
“Okay,” Billy said, “so how do you let anyone in?”
“Since I’m feeling lazy today, I can let you all in – by answering a riddle of mine.”
The young Griffon raised his eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s it. Only, it’s a hard riddle. So hard, and yet so dangerous, that not many are willing to try to answer it, let alone attempt it and get it right.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because if you get it wrong, you’d be sent into an alternative reality where it’ll drive you to madness.” The whole band went quiet for a moment, so she continued, “However if any of you are daring enough, you could send the smartest and creative among you six to answer my riddle before being lost in insanity forever.”
Sgt. Pepper blinked, “Uh… Mind excusing us for a moment.” Gathering the band together in a group huddle, she asked them. “So… Should we do it?”
“It’s what we came all this way for.” Said Billy.
“We can’t turn back now.” Yaky told them defiantly. “Not when the end is in sight.”
“Yeah,” Hoovy looked up towards the waving Gatekeeper. “But even still, this is a huge risk. If any of us get it wrong, we could risk being turned mad.”
“We’ve got to try,” Finny spoke up. “But who’s going to answer her riddle?”
“Simple,” Sgt. Pepper nodded, “Madonna.”
“Wait, what?” the young Changeling blinked. “Me?”
“Why not? Ever since you came with us, you’ve been able to think fast on your hooves. So, if we’re able to get into Pepperland, you are our best bet in.”
Madonna hesitated. “I don’t know. What if I get it wrong?”
“You know, that’s a bunch of crap,” Billy told her bluntly. “In case you’ve forgotten, you came up with a song on the spot when we needed to get across the sea. Turned into a squid when we were in trouble. Was the first to figure out something was wrong at that Strawberry field. Help come up with the song to escape from being breakfast for a bunch of canine weirdos. And now you think you can’t answer a riddle?”
“I have to agree,” Finny nodded. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
The other band members agreed.
When they broke from their group huddle, Sgt. Pepper took her aside, “I know you wanted to prove yourself that you can take care of yourself, well, maybe this is your chance to do it. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Madonna nodded and approached the Gatekeeper. “I’ll answer your riddle.”
The Gatekeeper grinned. “Are you sure? It’s a hard one, almost near impossible.”
Thus, began the play’s most surrealist song by the entry of two wobbly notes, with the orchestra opening the song with a harmony that constantly shifts. But that wasn’t the weird thing. As soon as the Gatekeeper started singing her riddle with confusing lyrics, her singing voice echoed her nearly nasally high tones that sounded strange upon the listener’s ears. But that wasn’t the weirdest thing either.
As the Gatekeeper speaks, the darkness starts to light up, slowly at first, into stokes and streams of kaleidoscopic colors and shapes. For a moment, they are formless and blurry until they became tangible. Out of nothing, there were pigs with wings that flew out of a gun. Suddenly Madonna is sitting on top of a cornflake next to a sign of a van stop. The Gatekeeper sells T-shirts that say “Stupid Bloody Tuesdays,” on them, wagging a talon at Billy for having a frown on his face. Suddenly the Gatekeeper jumps up, her head temporarily turning into an egg declaring to be the “Egg Man,” then to the band saying that they are that “Egg Man,” in which their heads did turn into eggs going “Woo,” before saying with the mask of big tusked walrus that “I am the Walrus!”
The weirdness didn’t stop there.
Into the orchestra, they dawned on a shoe on their heads and a pair of top hats on their hind hooves. The strings swap their bows for playing cards and the wind section traded their instruments for canvases to bang on. Even the audience isn’t protected from the odd occurrences such as a bench that turned into a mechanical alligator and moving the ponies sitting on it towards the back because it felt like it. In a corner of the audience in the back, one section turned into a tropical island. Even the fence that surrounded the audience turned into a house of cards.
Back on stage, the band members found that their instruments are playing on their own, and they were suddenly covered in fake fur-wearing masks. Sgt. Pepper was a walrus, Finny as a rabbit, Billy as a rooster, Yaky as a hippopotamus, and Hoovy as an elementary penguin. They were confused at trying to figure out what to do now as the Gatekeeper reprises to be the “Egg Man,” then to the orchestra saying that they were the “Egg Man,” in going “Woo!” and back again to be the Walrus.
Of course, Madonna still pondered over what all of this could be, and before she knew it, she sat next to the Gatekeeper having tea in a garden. The arch that connected to the dome came apart and floated a little bit off the ground to show the other, showing the chorus off the side. Then out from the sky, it started to rain caramel milk. Suddenly a student production of King Lear came on while the Gatekeeper repeated that she was the “Egg Man,” pointed to the audience saying that they are “the Egg Man,” in which every head in the audience for a split second turned into eggs and cried “Woo!” and back to her saying she is the Walrus.
The sky and the ground became shifty and turning different colors and shapes like the inside of a lava lamp while texperts choked on smoke. Above the stage, Discord in a jester’s jingle-bell hat finds all of this hilarious. Suddenly in the very back the Eiffoal tower erupts from the ground where snide pigs and Pilchard climbs up it. Meanwhile, Hoovy the penguin kicks Edgar Allen Poe while chanting something that no one could understand.
At the climax of this insane song when it all seems that the entire world had gone to pieces, reshaped and broke again, Madonna sat in the middle. Eyes closed as the music and the insane imagery all around her goes further and further away from reality. The orchestra grew louder, the chorus danced in a ring across the stage as a single egg being chanting something, and the audience is suspended in space.
Then, just as it seemed that nothing can be put back together, Madonna said one word.
“Nothing.”
In the middle of the Gatekeeper’s glee in folding reality on itself, she stopped – as did everything else. Everything came crashing down and back to the darkness from the beginning of the scene. “What did you say?”
“You know what I’ve realized?” She asked, “Anyone else would listen to your riddle and go insane for trying to figure out the answer. The more I thought about it, the harder it got. Then I asked myself if there was supposed to be an answer at all. I realized the answer to your riddle – is no answer at all. It’s nothing.”
The Gatekeeper applauded. “You’re the first in a long time to figure that one out. I mean you wouldn’t believe how many arrogant professors I’ve driven mad over the years. A bit disappointing that you weren’t one of them, but… you passed my test.” Clapping her paw and claw loudly with a crack lights dashed on stage and as fast as it could, formed a door. “Welcome to Pepperland.” She said, pulling on the door handle to let out a brilliant light.
Sgt. Pepper and the rest of the band celebrated, they rushed over to Madonna, hugging her. “You did it!” They would say. Now that their dreams were about to become reality. So, they all entered through the door in which the Gatekeeper closes it and a spotlight to dim into total darkness.
In that applause between scenes, Fancy Pants commented to the composers, “Well, I can see where the budget went to.”
Then, the final scene opened up, dimly at first like the dawn. The backdrop was a kaleidoscopic design of crystals that formed a throne room filled diamonds that sparkled like stars and bathed the stage in a rainbow of dots. On the floor in the center of the stage was a throne that sat a tall shadow and surrounded by other smaller ones nearby. As the lights and the gentle sound of strings help illuminate the scene more and more, the audience finally saw the ruler of Pepperland.
She was an alicorn that was similar to Luna in how dark blue she was but had a mane as pale and white as the moon. On her shout were a pair of round, granny glasses that changed and morphed colors like a kaleidoscope. The court around her was a rainbow of ponies, each of them holding an instrument that was strange and exotic to both the eye and the ear.
A courtier enters in, bowing to the ruler of Pepperland, “Your Majesty, we have a band from far away that is seeking an audience with you.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, “Why do they seek an audience with me?”
“They hope to gain your patronage, My Lady.”
“Do they bring instruments similar to these?”
The courtier looked around. “No, they brought their own.”
Luna hummed in thought. “Send them in.”
Bowing, the courter left momentarily to bring in the band.
“At long last,” Sgt. Pepper said, “Hello Your Highness, allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Sargent Pepper, and this is the Lonely Hearts Club Band. We have come such a long way to finally see you.”
“So, I’ve heard.” Luna took off her glasses, revealing her silver irises. “And I was told that you wished for me to be your patron.”
“Yep!”
“What kind of music do you play?”
“The kind that uplifts the spirits and has fun doing so. If you let us, we could sing you a song to give you an idea of what we do best.”
“Hmm… Very well. Commence with your playing.”
With a grin, she turned to her band. “Alright. A one, a two, and a-”
“There you are!” Before the band could play a single note, suddenly the parents from Act One came marching in. The mother marched over to Madonna, “We have been looking all over for you!”
“Mom?”
Her father comes in after his wife, “What are you doing next door with the neighbors?”
“Next door?” The whole band asked in surprise.
“Yes, I’m surprised that you’re here.” The father said, “We’ve spent days looking for you, and yet you’ve been hiding next door to us?”
Sgt. Pepper’s jaw dropped. She flew over to the father, “Hold on! Are you telling me this whole time that we took the long way to get to Pepperland? Who this crap!?”
While this got the biggest laugh from the audience, the mother went over to her daughter. “I don’t know, but you are in big trouble young lady. You’re coming home.”
“Now wait a minute,” Billy got in front of her. “Do you have any idea what she has been doing this whole play?”
“She’s done nothing,” the mother declared, “if we didn’t see it, she didn’t do anything.”
Yaky now stood in her way. “That not fair! She hero!”
The parents stood there, puzzled. Eventually, the father walked over. “Ma’am, I think you’re confused. Madonna is just a filly that needs to stay home.”
“Holy crap,” Hoovy said, “You two don’t have any idea what she’s capable of, do you?”
“That’s none of your-”
“Stop!” Sgt. Pepper snapped at them. “You know, during these past few days, I’ve wondered why she joined up with us. And now, I can see why she away – it’s because you don’t have any faith in her at what she can do.”
“She needs to come home.” The mother insisted.
Taking Madonna by the hoof, Sgt. Pepper led her over to Luna. “Ma’am, with your permission, will you let us play?”
“I’ve been waiting for that until this family drama came into my court.”
Picking up her guitar, Sgt. Pepper told Madonna, “Don’t let them define you. You helped us out in the past, and now, it’s our turn. Sing them the truth of what we’ve seen you’re capable of.”
Taking in a deep breath, Madonna took hold of the guitar and stood at the front of the stage, with the band behind them and a pair of skeptical parents off to the side, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight showed down on her.
From the orchestra, the strings started to play out a melody that was between relaxed and melancholy, and yet, beautiful at the same time. At first, Madonna hummed with the strings, thinking about what she wanted to say and how. She knew that all eyes, especially the ones of her parents were on her, waiting for her to prove them right about her.
She glances over to them, and her mother waves a hoof for her to drop this game and just come back home to a life of safety and boredom.
Then, she began to sing what was on her mind this whole time.
She sang a metaphor, how that every day on a hill, a foolish, grinning mare stays there alone. Although content, no one wants to get to know her because the world believes simply that she is nothing but a fool. While no one seeks answers from her, she on the hill can see how the world spins around its problems and solutions. An individual that was never taken seriously, seemingly stupid, that because they look fragile, strange, or weird, doesn’t mean that they are.
As to the melody itself, in how she and the strings played it, something was haunting in the way it sounds. While the lyrics are clearly her speaking up in protest, it never came off as angry or whiny. If anything, much to the adult’s surprise, while she was trying to make her case, she did it maturely.
For the next several minutes as Madonna sang her song, the audience saw how the parents’ expressions have morphed from someone who worries that their daughter was going to make a fool of herself to being taken aback how capable she was. In the background, Luna and her court sway while the background turned to soothing colors of blue, pink, light green in harmony of the song.
At the end of the song, the audience and Luna’s court applauded. Madonna, seeing what she had accomplished, bowed to them.
Luna stood up. “I believe, this is the first time in years that I’ve heard a song that had passion in it. That is a voice that has gone through much and yet, triumphed. As Queen of Pepperland, I hereby grant Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band my full patronage.”
The band celebrated by screaming and jumping for joy.
Madonna turned to her parents, “I know you just wanted to protect me, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve grown up. I’m not a filly anymore.”
“But…” her father said, “don’t you still love us?”
She hugs them. “Of course, I do, but there are times where you have to let me go.”
“By yourself?”
Madonna shook her head. “No. It turns out,” she went over to the band and embraced them, “I can get by with help from my friends.”
The curtain came down, thus bring an end to the play.
While the orchestra plays an outro, the curtain came back up again for a casting call. One group after another came on to take a bow. First the chorus, then the minor characters (some of whom, such as the Ringmaster, the Sirens, the Canine cast, and Madonna’s parents were Changelings).
However, after the band came on to take a bow, the audience was in for a surprise. The last two to come on stage was Madonna and the Gatekeeper who, holding hoof and claw, suddenly busted into green flames to reveal who they really were – Madonna, the star of the show, was Antenna. And the Gatekeeper was Ocellus. Ocellus gusted Antenna forward to give her the applause that she deserved.
Then together, the whole cast bowed, and the curtain closed.
Behind the curtains, Ocellus went up to Antenna. "You did fantastic out there!"
"I was worried that I might have messed up something." She hugged her, "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this."
"Phew!" Smolder came up to them. "I know we still have to record all of this tomorrow, but I'm relieved that we got all of that done. And just in time for Summer too."
Ocellus nodded, "Again, thank you guys a lot for doing this."
"Hey, it isn't every day that you get to perform alongside with a friend that's also a celeb. Speaking of which, quick question before we go greet the audience, what are you going to do for your Summer break."
"Oh you know," Ocellus said casually. "Work with McCart, Dawn, and Star with some more songs for the final concert." The entire stage went quiet. "What?"
"Uh... Final concert?" Gallus questioned, going up to her. "What are you talking about?"
She blinked. "Didn't I tell you guys already...? Or have I forgotten to mention that I'm planning to quit being a music star after my last concert in August?" No one responded. "I guess not."
Fancy Pants was forced to pull the monocle out of his eye to be placed on the white cloth of the table. Across from him at lunchtime was Ocellus, now free from school and enjoying the summer. A moment ago, she told him something that needed some time to register. Rubbing his face, he asked politely, “Perhaps my ears didn’t hear that properly, so would you repeat that again?”
“I want to finish singing in August.”
Yep, he did hear that right. Dewing in a deep breath, he put his monocle back on. “Please forgive me, Ms. Ocellus,” he began, “this is the first time I’ve ever come across someone who, just at the start of their career, becomes a smashing hit – suddenly decides to stop.” He drew in another breath. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, dipping her spoon into her soup. “No. I just figured that it’s almost time.”
“Young lady, I’m still trying to comprehend this decision. I mean, last week you released a soundtrack that has become the single best recording of all time. You and your group have earned more fame and money than you know what to do with. And those songs have become the most demanded in radio history. But now I hear that you want to stop?”
“Well, not yet,” Ocellus clarified. “I figured that I work with Pull and Dawn over the summer for one last concert and then I’ll step down for good.”
“Okay but… why?”
Putting her spoon down, the young Changeling looked at Fancy Pants. “Sir, I’m not stepping down because something was wrong. I’m doing it because I’m near the end of what I tried to do months ago. And that is to get the music of Pull, Dawn, and Hayson out there. Fame and fortune were never the goals for me to begin with. After this concert, where we’ll be putting out the best of the best, then I feel that my job is over. You can turn to Dawn or Pull for songs at that point.”
“So, you want to step down because you have a sense when to finish?”
She nodded.
“Ocellus, you must think this over.” Fancy pleaded. “From the way I see it, you’re just starting out. You and your songwriters have cranked out masterpiece after masterpiece. Not to mention that you help revolutionized music from your nonsense play. My radio station has been playing your group’s work for weeks nonstop due to the endless streams of requests. Ponies and creatures from every class and background have found something to unite around. Those who hate any influences with pop or classical have found those songs a breath of fresh air. If you just stop… everyone will be shocked how you didn’t make more.”
“I would rather stop when all of this is beloved than to go on to the point where it’s hated. Besides, I’m a student for crying out loud. While being a music star is fun, I want to get off the ride before it becomes too late to do so.” She smiled gently. “Besides, if I’m going to go out, I’m going to do so with a bang. Trust me, for the next several months, we will come up with the greatest songs you’ll ever hear.”
“So, I suppose there’s no way to change your mind on this?” She shook her head. “It’s… disappointing, but I won’t stop you.”
No one else could believe Ocellus’s decision.
At first, fans thought that this was a joke. She was stepping down as a musician by the end of the summer? The Beatle was going to stop singing by August? Many thought that this piece of news couldn’t be real.
However, after the other songwriters confirmed that this was true, that was when Ocellus received a mountain range of fan letters. Each one pleading for not to stop. There were petitions, protests, even a few night vigils in Ponyville trying to convince the young Changeling to keep going. Not only her fans, but her friends and even the original Beatles were surprised by her decision for ending so quickly.
All except, that was, for Pull McCart who went silent on the subject.
In the meantime, although the School of Friendship was closed for the summer, Ocellus had to ask Twilight’s permission to use the Gym to craft and record songs in. There were a few reasons why that particular room. Firstly, because it was big enough to house a whole orchestra when the time comes to it. Secondly, the acoustics there were perfect to give it that classical concert hall like quality. And third, the school provided Ocellus a place to stay over the summer as she and the older stallions to make and perfect their songs in time.
From nine in the morning until five in the evening, Ocellus would wait for Pull, Dawn, and Mango to come in – and from there, the four of them would start improvising until Ocellus picked up something familiar. Yet, with the piano in the room, the young Changeling got the idea to have Octavia to teach them the basics of how to play the piano. This helped tremendously with their experimentation.
For example, one June morning when they walked into the Gym, they heard Octavia warming up by playing Beethooven’s Moonlight Sonata. In particular, the first slow movement. As they entered, Dawn stopped and heard the melodic notes being played.
“That’s Beethooven’s stuff, isn’t it?” He asked walking up to the standup piano. When told that it was, he then asked, “Just out of curiosity, would you mind playing it backwards?”
Octavia blinked. “Beg your pardon?”
“Just do that opening again, only in reverse. Can you do that?”
She looked at the sheet music that she had at the time, took a moment to see which bar had the opening of the melody before doing as requested.
Upon hearing that, Ocellus exclaimed as if she remembered something important that she forgot, “Oh! That’s Because!” When the other Beatles inquired what she was talking about, she tried to sing out the fragmented melody out to them. From there, they would recreate the song.
On other days, they would have sections of the orchestra that assisted them in writing some of the songs. From a quartet of strings, they wrote Eleanor Rigby. From bassoons and clarinets that were feeling jazzy, they came up with When I’m Sixty-Four. But even when they just had the piano to band out notes from, they gave birth to The Long and Winding Road, All You Need is Love, and Penny Lane.
Yet, Ocellus knew that given the date she set, there was only so much time she has left to bring back as many masterpieces as she could.
In mid-June, Ocellus asked Dawn to come alone because she had a surprise for him. That morning he came into the gym where the young Changeling sat on something that had a white sheet. “How are you today?” She asked.
“I’m curious what this surprise is.” He looked around, “Is anyone else going to be here today?”
“Just us. If anything, I was hoping to talk to you and Pull individually.”
“What? You got him a present too?”
“Kinda, but come here, I want to give you a gift.” The old stallion walked up to her, and she pulled the sheet off to reveal a shiny grand piano painted white. “Ta-da! Do you like it?”
“You got me a piano?” He asked, running his hoof over the lid and the keys.
“Uh-huh. I figured that you and Pull have gotten better with the piano then I have, I figured that I reached into my pocket to get you this. Do you like it?”
Although she can sense from Dawn how much he was impressed with his gift, she can also sense confusion from him. “Yes but, why did you get me this?”
“Well, to be honest, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
Ocellus sat down on the lid of the white piano. “You see, lately I’m beginning to sense that you’re growing tired of this. Working with me, Pull, Mango, and Octavia. That you’re getting to the point where you maybe don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Now hold o-”
“Let me finish, please?” Ocellus holds a hoof. “And the thing is… You’re right. I am trying to push everyone to get this done before August and, for good reason. Not just because I’m going to step down, but lately I don’t think I’ve sat any of you down to explain why I’m doing this.”
Dawn raised an eyebrow but sat down in front of the keyboard. “I’m listening.”
“Yes, I’m trying to polish and perfect everything before I go. But at the same time, I’m trying to show the world of what you and Pull together, as well as individually could do. I know that I’m the only one that’s keeping this together, but when I go, I want to show that you guys can do so much on your own hooves too. I’m not asking you to bring your old band back together, but to leave you with the knowledge of what skills you have. If that makes sense.”
“Is that so?” He asked and she nodded. “So, what do you think that I can do?”
“Well… For one, I think you can be a great advocate for all that’s good in the world. That you can try to be a spokespony for peace, love, creativity through art. Not just in your paintings, sculpture, or drawings – but perhaps through song too. To sell peace like a product in saying hey, give this a chance. And if you feel confident enough in your skills as a songwriter, then show yourself of what you can do.”
As she was talking, she can sense in him a great shame that made him look down at the keyboard and asked him what was wrong. “Ocellus… You have such an innocent mind about you. That you look at me and see this nice-looking stallion that would be somepony’s grandfather. But if you knew me from what I was… I don’t think you would say things about me.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Did you know that I was married once a long time ago?” Ocellus shook her head. “Even Pull didn’t know this. But then, I used to be cruel to my wife. I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved. That was me.” He nodded, “I used to be easily jealous and cruel to my mare and physically, any mare back then… I was a hitter. I couldn’t express myself back then and I hit. I fought stallions and I hit mares.” He shook his head. “That’s why I’m on about peace now, you see. I figured that it’s the most violent of ponies who go for peace and love. Cause everything’s the opposite, you see.” Looking back up to a quiet Ocellus, he added, “But I sincerely believe in love and peace. The way I see it, I’ll have to be a lot older than now before I could face in public how I treated mares as a youngster.
“And now I think of it… I haven’t seen my son in years since the divorce.”
Ocellus blinked. “You have a son? How come you didn't tell us that?”
“Simply because we haven’t seen each other in… oh, decades.” The gym went uncomfortably quiet for a moment. And before Ocellus could ask, Dawn answered, “So before you say anything – no, I did not beat him. Looking back… I did something far worst. For most of his life, I ignored him. If he still hates me now, I wouldn’t blame him for it. I was cold in those days, back when I didn’t know how to express myself constructively and was so sucked into my own problems that I blocked out everyone else’s – including Jude. I don’t know if he’s still around, but if he is…” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t blame him for not believing that I have changed. I wouldn’t in his horseshoes.”
“But you’re not evil.” Ocellus said. “And trust me, my Hive grew up with Queen Crysalis. Someone who could not be redeemed. But you…? I can sense that there’s a part of you that sees himself as a monster, but I don’t see that. Do you know who I see now?” Dawn shook his head. “I see a stallion who, although quite old, is trying to be good. A talented one that is trying to find a way to leave this world a better place than when he found it.” Buzzing over to sit next to him, she added. “Your story may not have a happy beginning. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t do what you can to give this story a happy ending.
“Sure, you may have been cruel back then, but look at you now. You’re a changed stallion with a changed heart. That’s something that I think is more powerful than you realize. Going from a bully to become a symbol of positive change.”
“But… Do you think anyone out there would see that?”
“You know at first hoof that anger gets you nowhere.” She replied, “Perhaps… It’s time to give peace a chance or something.”
Dawn, for a long, long moment didn’t say anything. Sitting on that piano stool, reflecting. Finally, he spoke up. “What was it you said?”
“Huh?”
“The night that we first met, you said you had a unique memory of me. And a song that I apparently wrote but don’t remember doing it. How did that go again?”
“Wait! Before you do anything,” Ocellus quickly got up to press a few buttons to record this moment before returning to her seat. “Okay… I don’t fully remember how the melody or the lyrics go, so you’ll have to help me with this.” Dawn asked what fragments she remembers. “All I know was that it was called… Imagine.”
By July, Ocellus and Pull worked later into the day to wrestle with the sound of A Day in the Life when the old stallion did something unexpected.
On that day, they debated and experimented with the orchestra in trying to get the right sound of the final note. But after frustrating several hours on both sides, Pull stood up. “Alright… We need to stop and rest. For now, let’s call it a day and maybe we could figure something out by then.”
With a relived orchestra clearing out of the school Gym, he noticed Ocellus hunched over on a piano stool with her hooves covering her face. “I’m so sorry that this isn’t going anywhere,” she apologized, “I had the sound in my head, and I can’t see why it’s so hard to get it out there.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. We just haven’t figured it out yet. Now we’d just got to keep on trying and hopefully, we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
“I can’t believe that you’ve been this patient.” She remarked. “I’m barely holding myself together in trying to get them to get these songs just right.”
“Well you don’t expect good music overnight, do you? Oh! That reminds me,” making sure that the last member of the orchestra was out of the room, he went over to pick up a guitar. “Since you’re here, I was hoping that I could show you a new song I came up with.”
Ocellus raised an eyebrow, “A new song?”
“Yes, one that I came up with all by myself.”
Now, this caught her attention. Up until then, they were creating songs together as a group. Yet, even with the months of lessons and improvising, this was the first time that she was aware that Pull was writing his own songs without anyone knowing about it.
“What’s it called?” She inquired.
“I call it, Lads of Trottingham.”
Ocellus was stunned but didn’t try to show it. As far as she was aware, this wasn’t a Beatle song she knew of. Nor of any song that she vaguely recalled McCart wrote. Was this something new?
Pull began playing a tune that was melancholic and almost slow. Then he opened his mouth and sang lyrics that Ocellus was sure she had never heard before.
“In the day, there were four of us,
“Young, bold, oh how we made a fuss.
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“Mares screamed when we came by,
“Cynics and bigots wanted us to die.
“But through all and all we decide
“A better world we would abide.
“We sing of Sgt. Pepper and Elanor Rigby
“Strawberry Fields and more than we dream.
“From Hey Jude to Let it Be,
“What more than any could see!
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“One day we parted ways
“Because of Dawn and Yoko they says.
“We may split up the band
“Yet, our music it still stands
“When a girl named Ocellus
“Reminded what so special about us.
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?
“How we came this young new band
“Have you heard of the lads of Trottingham?”
When he finished playing his song, he looked over to the Changeling, her jaw hanging freely. “So?” He asked, “What do you think? Pretty good?”
“…”
“Ocellus?”
“You… You knew!” The young Changeling shouted, her voice echoing through the gym and the empty school. “Good Goddesses! This whole time, you knew!”
“Um…” The old stallion grinned nervously. “Surprise?”
“Pull!” Ocellus grabbed him by the shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell me!? From the moment I met you – you knew!”
Pull grabbed her back. “Ocellus, before you get angry with me – and trust me, you have every right to be so-”
“You think!”
“Could I at least explain what’s really going on? I promise my intention wasn’t to hurt you, just give me some time to explain myself.”
Ocellus gently shoved him, and although fuming in silence, she can sense from Pull that there wasn’t a malicious intent from his end. After a good five or so minutes to calm down, she turned to him. “What is going on?”
“Right,” he sighed, “I suppose that even after I explain myself, you’ll still be angry with me. Tell me, have you found it a little odd that we are the only two beings in the whole wide world who knew what the Beatles were and what our songs were? The truth is… this is my fault.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “I think you should really be asking why. Because that reason has much to do with our current circumstances.”
Ocellus took in a very deep breath. “Okay… why?”
Pull sat down, and with a solemn look on his face, he looked up at the fuming Changeling. “I wanted Dawn back.” He watched the anger in Ocellus’s expression fade. “When we started the band, we did so as the best of friends. After we broke up, we were so angry at each other that we couldn’t stand to be in the same room without exploding. But as much as we apologized, we still didn’t see each other. And then, when I got the news that Dawn was murdered…” Pull fell silent, sniffing, and trying to hold back the tears. “I couldn’t forgive myself. My wife held me back from doing something very drastic but… Every day I thought that may be… what if I did something to prevent it. Sure, I was angry but I didn’t want him dead.
“Then one day… I came across something. A recipe to make a wish come true that required being submerged in a substance. However, for it to work, I had to come to a place outside of Ponyville where it required a specific type of earth. After mixing it all together that morning, I made a wish. That I went back in time to break up the Beatles before we became famous – and jumped right in.”
“The quicksand…” Ocellus murmured. “I… I saw some glowing mud or whatever, and I got stuck in it to where my whole head was buried in.”
“But you didn’t fall all the way in, didn’t you?” Ocellus shook her head. “Maybe that explains it. If you had fallen in completely, you would have ended up in Trottingham with me. But, (and this is a guess) since you dipped your head in and was pulled out, you were excepted out of my wish to have the whole world forget about us.”
“I don’t understand,” Ocellus said, “why would you, Pull McCart of all ponies, try to go back in time and disband The Beatles before you became popular?”
“To save Dawn. Look, if we were never popular, his killer wouldn’t have a reason to murder him. Besides, I don’t know if you knew this, but when we broke up in the seventies, our friendship had disintegrated. I had thought that if we broke earlier, then maybe our friendship would have lasted longer. But… I couldn’t predict what it actually did to us. I may have sabotaged the band, yet, by doing so, it drove all of us further apart. That was until you came along.”
“But that still doesn’t answer my question, how come you didn’t tell me about this?”
“For starters, I honestly thought for decades that I was the only one in the world who knew what the Beatles were. I mean, when I told you that I forgot how to play the guitar, that was no lie. Since I didn’t see a reason to play music, I slowly forgot how to play – let along the songs we created. So, imagine my surprise to hear you play some of them. Just when I thought I made a huge, impossible to reverse mistake, suddenly I hear you playing those songs for a school dance.
“However, as to why until now I haven’t said anything… I didn’t want to mess again. You did things that I thought were impossible. You technically brought the band together in away. You helped me overcome my insecurities to tell Dawn that I was sorry. And seeing you having fun in lending a hoof to remind me and inspire Dawn of these songs… If I at any moment stepped up and took over, I know it would have devastated you.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back. “But… I did do that. I’ve stolen your destiny. Not just yours, but Dawn’s, and Hayson’s, and even Mango’s!”
“No.” He put a hoof on her shoulder. “If it were up to anyone else, they would have stolen the songs and take all the credit. And yet, you never sought fame or money or any of that. Since day one you reminded the world who wrote these songs. And sure, we may be ancient, but you are our go-between to bring all this stuff back into the world. I wrote that song because of how floored I am with your humility and industry to bring us back.”
“Looking back now, I bet there would have been several things you would have done better.”
“I don’t know. Having four young stallions from Trottingham doing all this is one thing. But at the same time, it’s fascinating what a young Changeling like yourself would do. I mean, the musical thing is something I don’t think any of us have ever thought of. And you having your friends bring in new instruments to experiment is something we would do. Sure, not all the songs are everything like how I remembered, but here and there you took them in ways that maybe we should have.”
“But I’m not a real Beatle.”
Pull shook his head and patted hers. “You have been honest with everyone from the start, and that alone, I’d say, makes you a genuine Beatle. Now,” he got up, “how about we go find Dawn and Mango so we can have some dinner somewhere.”
“Before we go,” Ocellus said stopping him, “and that you remember what you were really like, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Is it true that The Beatles met Elvis Ponsley once?”
He laughed. “Yes, we did! And at his house too.” From there, Pull McCart told Ocellus the story as they walked out.
Ocellus had planned her final performance since she finished with Pepperland. She didn’t want it to be in the style of a ruckus rock concert, nor would she wanted to do it as a musical. While not exactly as a final radio show, she did want to have this be heard live to as many as possible. The way she should do her final concert had not only needed to be special but could house both an audience and a choir as well. Which was why that she picked the Canterlot Royal Opera House.
Fancy Pants took great pains to advertise it and announce that the last performance of The Beatle will be hosted live over on his radio station. He produced posters to advertise the collaboration of brand-new songs between Ocellus and the Canterlot Royal Philharmonic from the Crystal Empire to Appaloosa. A once in a lifetime event that was known as: The Curtain Call. The stallion also announced that the Beatle will be selling the final records the day after the performance in case anyone had missed it.
As soon as word got out, tickets for the event were quickly sold out even before the posters went up. Others went the other way and bought their own radio for the event. However, the ponies who were selling radios often sold them so fast that they were often out of stock. And when word got out for the final album from the Beatle, record companies were given lists in the millions who pre-payed for a copy before recording got started.
From Ocellus’s end, she was working as hard and fast as she could to piece together the songs needed for the show. By the beginning of August, although she, Pull, Dawn, and Magno have created many more songs than required of the final performance. So, it was agreed that they should release a double record album where one had the songs that were presented at the show while the other had extra songs.
“Can I get everyling’s attention please?” Ocellus asked.
It was only a few weeks before the last performance, and Ocellus’s favor from the king has come in. The largest attendance of the Hive’s choir – including volunteers from the Beatles came pouring into the school’s Gym. There was a wide range from those as young as seven to elders who lend their singing talents to this show. Each of them received a copy of the songs that they were about to perform. All four of them – or at least so they thought. On this day of the choir’s rehearsal, Ocellus came in with a box of sheet music which she passed along.
“What’s this?” One of the Changelings asked her.
“If you could pass this along to the younger members of the choir, I have a very important announcement to make.” When they did, many looked at the two pages of music and lyrics, she said, “What you are holding in your hooves, is a surprise for one of the songwriters. It’s a song that isn’t what’s considered as a Beatle song, but I figured that it’s needed. Because, starting today, noling here is to tell anyone about this song. It’s a surprise song.”
One of the Changelings raised a hoof, “Why? What’s this for?”
“Okay, I’m going to let you all in on a top-secret project. A small one, but it’s meant to thank my songwriters, Pull and Dawn before I go. This is a gift to Dawn that he doesn’t know about. It’s my way of saying thank you to him. In the meantime, I’ve learned how to play the piano part and wonder what the rest of you might think of it.”
Although she can sense confusion among the choir, they did agree to give it a shot. After all, the music didn’t look too difficult.
So Ocellus sat down at the piano and played out a simple set of chords for a few bars before cueing in on the choir to sing. What came out of their mouths, was a sweet-sounding song that was one part radical and another peaceful. But when Ocellus sang the other two verses, where the words were simple yet so full of meaning to those in the room, even when the choir was just singing “Ooh” to fill the harmony, it left them in a cathartic, redemptive mood.
After the song was over, and Ocellus asked what they thought of it. For a long, long minute, no one said anything. Then just as she was getting nervous in thinking that this timeless song may not be good after all, a hoof rose up. “Ocellus, I think that might be one of the best songs I’ve heard.”
“And relevant,” said another, “Who’s song is this?”
“Dawn’s.” Ocellus answered. This got a reaction out of the Changelings, looking to one another and muttering to the other. “What? Is something wrong with it?”
“I don’t think so,” another Changeling said, “It’s just… You said Dawn wrote this?” She nodded. “Are you sure that Dawn Lemon isn’t a Changeling?”
This took Ocellus aback. “What makes you think he was?”
They explained how this song, the anthem to peace spoke of a world without borders, where there’s no reason to kill or die over. Or near the ending, to envision a world where there was no greed and hunger, but instead a brotherhood that united everyone. Something that King Thorax had envisioned what the hive should become. Peaceful – the opposite of the previous monarch.
Ocellus replied, “To tell you all the truth, this song was inspired by an old stallion who went through decades of fear, prejudice, hate, and ignorance. Although he himself was an easily jealous, violent pony, age, and experience changed him to find peace of mind. From a pony that saw the advantages of acceptance of the different, and peace among creatures. A mind of a dreamer, yes, but what a dream that is.”
“So, what do you think this song is to you?” Another Changeling asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “In a way, I see as an anthem. Not of what we are… but… what we could become one day. A prayer for a better world. A better life where if you want to see it, you have to take the first step to imagine it and then, do it.”
“An anthem… It kinda describes what we’re trying to do.”
“So are some of the other songs,” another Changeling pointed out. “I guess I would have said the same thing with that All You Need is Love song. But this seems like a better fit.”
“That’s good to hear.” Ocellus said, “I think we’ll stop for today, but will you all work to get this song down as well?”
They told her that they will.
Finally, it was time.
In front of the Canterlot Opera House, crowds from old to young, rich and poor gathered on the front steps. Some spotlights and banners had Ocellus’s face with the name of The Beatle proudly displaying it. The scene was like a premiere of a blockbuster Applewood movie where the elite gathered as a special social event. There were red carpets that lead from the street to the insides of the grand theater. On the roof, a radio tower stuck out with wires that snake down to the microphones on stage.
The audience was ready.
Behind the theater, a carriage pulled up to the backdoor stage. And four individuals walked out of it. First was Dawn in a white suit, next was Mango in black, then Pull in deep blue without any horseshoes, and finally the star Ocellus in a white suit with a red carnation pinned to her withers.
The music and musicians were ready.
In that same back alley, behind the garbage cans, a stallion turned on his radio to listen to the performance. With a repetitive crossbow by his side, he took the time to polish and sharpen all five of his arrows. All those times where he was denied a decent picture, an autograph, or to be anywhere near his idol; all those times he was turned down – it’s time to pay. But not yet, he needs to wait just a little longer. Not until the last song was sung.
The interior of the Opera House was one of those places where it perfected in the Braeque style. It was the kind of space where the very design of it made it so that one could hear a pin drop from the back of the furthest seat of the furthest balcony. A massive room where there were rows upon rows of gilded balconies, classical statues referencing Pegasi mythology, and a massive chandelier that might be considered a wonder of the world. The stage itself had a crimson and decretive gold curtain that stood three stories tall. Below at the stage lights as an orchestra pit that is covered over.
Normally a place like this traditionally held elaborate operas from the great composers from Buch to Moztrot, with the seasonal classical concert; and the occasional play by Shakespur. It was the archetype stereotypical place for wealthier ponies to find culture while taking a nap. And most noticeably, it was rare to see the Opera House full.
The latter of which was exactly what made this concert so unusual. For the elite ponies of Canterlot, they were surprised to see ponies from all walks of life to be here. Especially, even more shockingly, the house was populated by young teenagers who were loudly chatting away before the show could start.
Perhaps the chatter was for good reason – the Royal Opera box had displayed the banner of the sisters, along with one that they didn’t recognize. It was the symbol of a butterfly. Then, with guards stepping out to blow a fanfare, two very recognizable alicorns stepped in. Along with a tall moose-like Changeling that was recognized to be King Thorax. But that was not all. The audience spoke up in murmurs when in the next box over, Pull McCart, and Dawn Lemon took their seats next to the royals. But that was not all. Five others soon joined them. If the audience knew who they were, they would identify that it was Ocellus’s friends who joined for the concert.
A stallion walked up on stage, carrying a microphone in his aura. No doubt someone from one of the radio stations making last-minute preparations. He walked up and sat it down in the middle of the stage. Then he nodded and got off the stage just as Fancy Pants walked on with much applause.
“Mares and Gentlecolts,” he began, “Old and Young, and Your Highnesses,” he bowed to the alicorns in the royal box. “Welcome one and all! And for those who are just tuning in, thank you for choosing Imagine 96.3 to hear the final performance of The Beatle live from the Canterlot Royal Opera House.
“Before we begin, I was asked by the singer to read the following statement.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “‘To my fans, over the past several months since my announcement to disband my career as a music star – I have received several letters expressing how big of a mistake it is for me to throw all of this away. Even the stallion reading this statement agrees that this is a bad idea.” This got both a laugh and cheers of agreement from the audience. He continues reading. “‘I understand that this might have been a major shock for most of you. However, I’m doing this because, in the first place, I never intended to gain fame for myself. All I cared about, was to get the attention of four genius that was almost forgotten. This final concert is in celebration of the four geniuses who, without their contributions and creations, the music you all enjoy would not exist. Works of Pull McCart, Dawn Lemon, Forge Hayson, and Mango Star.
“‘Over the past several months, we have been working hard to craft out some of the highest quality songs we could come up with. Although you wouldn’t hear them all tonight, tomorrow a new album will be distributed that will include all of the songs. But for tonight, I ask you to relax and enjoy music that is sophisticated, popular, and fun – all at the same time. And for the audience here in this theater to remain quiet between songs and save your applause in between them so those at home can hear it too. Signed, Ocellus.’
“Now with that in mind and without further ado, Imagine 96.3 proudly presents The Curtain Call, staring The Beatle, the Canterlot Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the Changing Hearts Choir, and a cameo of the Kyoto Quartet. Starting this performance with Forge Hayson’s: While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”
Fancy walks off stage as the giant curtain rises. The large audience within the great music hall erupted into applause and shouts as they now saw Ocellus walking up to the microphone. A white suit with a red carnation pinned above her heart. Behind her, four ponies sat on mats, each holding a Neighponese instrument. One held a Shamisen, another a Koto, a third a Shakuhachi, and the last a Biwa. Behind them was the entire orchestra of strings, winds, brass, Mango Star at a drum set, a grand piano, and a small group of electric guitars. Including a conductor on the stand.
Instantly, the elite of the audience attendance thought of the same thing. ‘This is going to be an interesting evening.’
Ocellus gave a subtle cue of nodding where the cascade plucking of the Shakuhachi and the Biwa strings. A whimsical yet, powerful momentum in Neighponese accent. And there, standing in the spotlight, Ocellus played out the same rhythm on her guitar before she sings. It was a sleepy but intriguing tone where never was she bored by it but carried with a graceful but subtly commanding voice. The orchestra soon came in to help paint the atmosphere of the song with bold colors like an Impressionist painting.
For the poorer audience, they bobbed their heads, tapped their hooves to this exotic, snapping rhythm. A surreal pop song in Neighponiese clothing as far as they were aware of. Yet, to the ponies who were trained to listen with a classical ear, some elements were familiar, and fresh at the same time. The mix of a western orchestra with the flare of instruments from the far east to their ears proved a revelation. The song they were hearing didn’t glorify one element or the other but were woven together in this stunning masterpiece of a song. A breath of fresh air for many who listen to the Avant Gard. This wasn’t a piece of music that tried to reflect the ugliness of the world, but one that took elements from faraway lands to make something beautiful.
Up in the royal balcony, Gallus leaned over to Smolder. “This sounds like the opening of an anime film, doesn’t it?” He whispered.
She shrugged, “How would I know? I never watched any of that stuff.”
“Said the Dragoness who had on a blue princess dress.”
Smolder grabbed him, “I thought we agreed that never happened.”
“You and your repressed memories.”
Luna cleared her throat. “Pardon, some of us are trying to listen.” At this moment, she glanced over to her older sister. “A miracle! Somepony hasn’t fallen asleep within the first five minutes.”
“Hey, at least it’s not opera.” Celestia whispered back. “I think I’ve finally found a genre of music that I liked.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Dawn Lemon told them, “But some of us are trying ta listen.”
At around this point, Ocellus steps aside to where the spotlight shines on the Shakuhachi player with his solo. A solo that requires him to do difficult things to his three-string instrument. Notes that come tumbling, rolling, streaming down like tears. Although it doesn’t sound like the instrument was wailing hysterically, there was something siren-like in how complicated beautiful this crying Shakuhachi was.
In a surreal moment, Ocellus sang – not to the player of the instrument – but to the Shakuhachi itself. Singing her pity at the unfortunate fate of its crying strings, yet, not understanding how something so wonderful could be twisted into something so unfortunate. How could something be inverted without alarming of it being so? She revises the first verse that was about as she looks at all the audience, of their love that’s asleep.
During the song, some of the audience began to notice that something was missing. Fancy Pants mentioned a choir, but looking around on the stage, they noticed that there wasn’t any. Was it a mistake of some sort? That was when they noticed the sound of young voices singing. Where was it coming from? Looking about, they saw that in some of the opera boxes, there were colorful Changelings in groups singing along. The choir, they realize, was hidden in plain sight in the audience! The effect they had was haunting as it echoed like spirits.
On stage, the Shakuhachi player attempts at playing the most difficult part of the song as those graceful wails now reached a terrifying crescendo that was the height of the emotion in its first piece. Then suddenly, the song calms back down with a piano solo repeating the theme as gently as a lullaby.
The conductor on the stand gives the audience their cue to applaud. There were hoots, screams, and hollers, much to the annoyance of the Canterlot elite. The four musicians that were playing the Neighponese instruments got up, bowed low, and removed their mats and themselves off stage.
Ocellus waited, looking her shoulder over to the conductor to begin the next song. The conductor listened to the audience to settle down, turning the score, and rose his baton. As they waited, the strings raised their bows and put their hooves on the strings, ready to pluck them. Then after the audience was calm and still, he began.
The strings from the violins down to the cellos began to pluck their strings that, to the classically trained ear, sounded similar to Beethooven’s moonlight, yet, something seemed a little off. The pizzicato continued for half a minute until they suddenly stopped, giving Ocellus and the choir their cue to begin. Although the young Changeling sang the main melody and played her guitar, the choir’s harmony sang only “Ahh,” yet their arrangement sounded like a beautifully arranged Buch cantata that was stripped to its essentials. There wasn’t much Braeque ordination, but for Ocellus who sang about the simplicity of nature leaves her in awe – it was transcending.
What she sang on that stage, that because the world is not just round, but that the wind blows so high, and that the sky is blue – it amazes her. This short hymn with a soul-healing harmony, and a choir that sang how love can be both old and new, how it is all and you; what tears of beauty were brought to the eyes of the broken. On top of all that, the strings and guitars both acoustic and electric sang like the adagios of a Moztrot symphony. In this short song, there was something beautifully honest in its sound that left even the elite of Canterlot speechless.
“This best song Ocellus put out.” Yona whispered.
“I wish Auntie Novo were here.” Silverstream leaned over to the side to whisper to her. “This song is gorgeous.”
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions yet.” Sandbar pointed out. “Remember, this is the second song and we’ve just got started.”
“That reminds me,” Smolder turned to him, “How many songs is she doing tonight anyway?”
“Let me check,” Gallus picked up a playbill to count the songs. “It’s gonna be divided into two parts. But in all, there are eleven plus two others that are labeled as ‘surprise,’ whatever that means.”
Soon the song ended, and Fancy Pants entered on stage, whipping a few tears from his eye. “That was Because a Pull McCart and Dawn Lennon collaboration.” As he talked, two violinists, a violist, and a cellist moved from their seats to move closer to the microphone but right behind Ocellus. The young Changeling handed her guitar over to the pianists to put it away for now. “Up next, is one cracker of a ballad. It is a tale of a mare over a hundred years ago who lived in crippling isolation. This is the tragic story of Eleanor Rigby.”
The audience applauds for a few seconds, and at the moment they died down, the string quartet begins with a forceful, loud few notes.
For the first minute into the song, the string quartet dove right into a fugue that sounded like a duel between Vifilli and Buch. Each style trying to gain dominance over the other that wasn’t civil at all. The fugue had the violence of Beethooven that rambles between this argument of the two violins versus the viola and cello. Ocellus, her eyes closed, counted in her head the beats, waited for her cue to sing.
On time, she began to spin a tale of a mare named Eleanor Rigby. A lonely mare who picks up the rice after weddings. A dreaming mare that sits alone by a window where no one will come to visit. She hides her face, perfectly preserved – only no one knows for what or whom she is saving it for. In this same place, a priest writes for a sermon that is destined to be left unheard. So, in the meantime, he fixes up his socks when there is none to be with. Ocellus questions for what does the priest care. She asks where do all these lonely ponies come from, and, more importantly, where do they belong?
For a brief moment, the audience and the quartet meditate on this question. During this intense two minutes, the Changeling choir from the opera boxes points the way to look at the audience – at these lonely ponies. The four instruments debated this question in their abstract language. The two violins seem dismissive while the cello gives a long, lofty but unhelpful answer. If anything, the viola in all of this debate seemed to be the only one to be taking this issue seriously. Outright scolding the two violins and cello for doing nothing. The other instruments respond: repeat the fugue and hopes that this would go away.
In silence, regardless of who was in the audience, they were faced with an uncomfortable question about loneness. Not just their own, but when the choir points out to look at all the lonely ponies, for some it got them thinking. Who among this audience never got anyone to be visited by? How many ponies like Eleanor are there in this theater alone? Are these famous faces they’re seeing – including Ocellus – lonely too?
“The story of my life.” Luna muttered under her breath.
“What?” Celestia asked, her ears perked up.
“Have you come across a song that tells the truth about yourself that despite being so good you hate it on some level?” She looked up and her sister blinked. “Unlike you, hardly anyone comes to visit the Princess of the Night except for Nightmare Night. You may see ponies all the time, but I barely do in real life except in the Dreamworld.”
Celestia didn’t respond but instead tilted her head a little to look into the other box. Gallus was paying very close attention to the song – leaning a little over the balcony.
“You know,” Celestia said, “the song is asking where the lonely come from. And by the looks of it,” she pointed. “I don’t think you’re entirely alone with being alone.”
Back on stage, Ocellus gives a dark ending to this song. Eleanor died alone with nothing more than her name. All the priest did was to bury hear, wiping the dirt from his hooves. Neither he nor Elanor was saved that day. The choir asks the question again of where do the lonely belong as the string Quartet closes.
There was an applause, not as loud as before but still enough for ponies to give a sign of how much they liked it.
After the Quartet bows and returned to their seats, Ocellus cleared her throat. “What you are about to hear,” she said over the microphone, “was written and played by Forge Hayson to help purpose to his wife. This might be the most underrated love song ever written. It’s called – Something.”
Ocellus started to sing what was the most minimalistic out of all the songs they heard that night. Nothing more than her own voice and a soft playing piano. The only thing that carried it along, was an honest melody that echoed inside the Opera House like a cave. There was something about the song that was as haunting as Eleanor Rigby and yet, it was sweet in its simplicity. Perhaps, the charm comes in how Ocellus sang it as if it was the sigh of someone in love.
Even with the use of the choir, it was used only sparingly but just at the right moments. That they were used to help give color to the song when it was absolutely needed. Ghostly and yet, heartbreakingly beautiful at the same time.
The audience could see how someone would use this as a marriage proposal. It was the quietest of the songs so far. At the same time, it was unapologetically romantic. This short song had the poetry of Roanio and Filliet but distilled with all the feelings of a mature love into a three-minute-long piece. Short, sweet, yet a small masterpiece to the ear.
In the opera box where Gallus leaned over, hunched over, his head resting on the velvet railing. Silently, without using any words, Silverstream got out of her seat and went next to him. Neither one said anything as they looked at one another – with Silverstream giving a look of concern and him in return with a look of wanting someone to be with him. She unfolded a wing, she wrapped it around him in a warm, soft hug.
Everyone else in that box raised a few eyebrows.
At the end of this song, the audience applauded once more and Fancy Pants walked back on stage. “That was ‘Something’ by Forge Hayson. And now we turn to a happy-go-lucky tune, inspired by the composer’s nostalgic memories of their foalhoods in Trottingham. Imagine 96.3 now invites you to take a stroll down a place called Penny Lane.”
The audience applauds once again while Fancy walks off and Ocellus returns to the microphone. Meanwhile, the conductor raises his baton and the strings prepare for what was to come next. When the audiences die down, they began.
What followed was a piece that had a different flavor compared to the previous songs the audience has heard. Ocellus and the strings sing a tune that can only be described as nostalgic but trying to have fun with it. A quirky bit that describes little incidences and characters from the composers’ lives. That on a road of Penny Lane, there was a barber that took photographs of the customers; who was friendly enough for them to come by to say Hello. Of the banker with a carriage that the foals laugh behind his back when it’s raining because he never wore a raincoat. Nearby there was a firemare with an hourglass; with a small portrait of Celestia in his coat pocket, he tends to keep his fire engine as spotless and shiny as possible. In a shelter in the center of a roundabout, a nurse sells flowers out of a tray as if she was in a play. From Penny Lane, the barber shaves a customer while the banker waits for his turn when suddenly the firemare rushes in from the rain.
At the same time Ocellus is singing this, the musically literate audience was intrigued by the melody in that it too was going on a journey. In that, it didn’t just go with the usual chord progression as most pop musicians that made it dull. While some in the audience didn’t notice, but the key signatures shifted and slide from one major key to another at surprising, unexpected moments. It was playful and didn’t take itself too seriously as it gave the listeners a tour around the street of Trottingham. Although it kept itself upbeat, it was never too childish sweet to make it cringe-worthy yet welcoming to the ear that it made one want to stay there.
Regardless of who was listening, this song spoke to everyone on some level. With a melody that was bright and warm as sunlight during summer, to them, it was a much-needed breath of fresh air. That although it used an old fashion orchestra, it had the youthful energy and catchy tune of a pop song. The best of both worlds that came together to make something that was both old and new in the best sort of way.
Needless to say, the minute-long applause was deservingly well received.
Fancy Pants come out again to the microphone. “Mares and Gentlecolts, listeners who are tuned in, Ocellus will sing one more song before we take a ten-minute intermission. But before we could get into that, we have one more wonderful song called A Day in the Life.”
Picking up her guitar off from the piano, she rushed over to the microphone, preparing herself to sing what was in her mind – the big one.
Together with her guitar and the orchestra, they began what is the most symphonic song out of all the music that was done that evening so far. Sober as a misty morning, Ocellus started to sing the things she read in the news that day. The first being of a lucky stallion that was successful. An admittingly sad piece of news but found the photograph funny. In that, he died while driving his carriage because he didn’t notice the lights had changed. Ponies nearby stood and stared at his face as if trying to recognize him from somewhere. She also saw a film about how the Equestrian Army had won the war. While ponies have turned away from the movie, she still watched because she had read the book.
What followed, however, was a sound that no one in the audience of the opera house nor on the radio could expect. It started as a wobbly chord, and then, from the lowest register of the orchestra, notes started to rise and slide, climb, and slid up from one bar to the next from the lowest note to higher and higher. This terrifying sound moaned and groaned upward, getting louder, strange, and intense. And then, at the highest notes, the orchestra could reach when it could take it no more, it suddenly stopped and replaced by a ticking piano and a ringing alarm clock.
All of a sudden, the song had gone from a serious tone to upbeat as she described the more regular parts of life. She woke up and fell out of her bed. She went through her morning routine, and just as she was having breakfast, she looked at the time and found she was late. After grabbing her things, she made the bus with seconds to spare. Then she went upstairs on the bus when someone spoke, she went into a dream. What that was, the choir sang over in a dreamlike swirl and the orchestra’s heroic horns struggled to keep itself awake.
Ocellus continues to sing, that in the news, thousands of holes were found in Griffonst Station. Despite the holes being small, someone still counted them all. Because of that, they now know how many it takes to fill the Sydneigh Hall. Then at the end of her song, she stepped away quietly, letting the orchestra take over by repeating the same noise as before. From the lowest notes of all of the instruments, they began again bar after bar to build up that weird, tuning up the sound. Groaning, whistling, sliding, moaning, shirking, screaming, the strange, curiously retched sound grew louder with every passing bar. And then, as the orchestra couldn’t take it anymore at the highest of notes, the piano slammed the final notes.
The conductor, for a full minute, didn’t dare finished the song until the vibrations of the orchestra and the piano were completely quiet. Letting the reverberations wibble and wobble until they too die down. When it was all finally quiet, he let his baton down. The song was over, and the audience stood up in their applause.
Fancy Pants, amid the stomping, whistles, and cheers, rushed to the microphone. “You are listening to Imagine 96.3, we’ll be back for part two after the break.”
For the next ten minutes, there was chatter inside the Opera House and a stream of advertisement on the radio as the audience waited for Ocellus. Anyone who listened to the first part of the performance had asked what she was going to sing next. She had sing six songs in which the quality was jaw-dropping. If anything, they say that so far it might some of the best songs she ever did. Yet, there were still a few more left. What was it going to sound like?
Before they went on the air, the lights in the theater dimmed and flickered – giving the live audience a minute warning that the second part was about to begin. Soon, Fancy Pants returned to the microphone and was given the cue to start.
“Welcome back to Imagine 96.3 for the second part of The Curtain Call concert live with The Beatle and the Royal Canterlot Philharmonic. So far, we have heard half a dozen masterful works of Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. So now to begin the final half of this remarkable performance, Ocellus will now play a solo on her guitar called Blackbird.”
The audience stomped their hooves as the scarlet curtain rose, and Ocellus stepped out with her guitar in her hooves approached the microphone. A spotlight shined on her as she began to sting up a relaxing opening.
When Ocellus started singing, they noticed that the lyrics were simple, but at the same time, something was haunting in what she says. She speaks to a singing bird with broken wings and sunken eyes to give it encouragement. To learn to fly with broken wings and see with sunken eyes – but don’t give up because of all the unfortunate things that bring it down. Asides those things, the undertext of what it suggests when any of the audience thinks about it, they found profound. Those simplest, yet powerful words of encouragement.
This short but beautiful song had a message underneath all those notes. That to those who for whatever reason been set back – keep going. Even at the darkest of nights, morning will always come. Even with broken wings, they will heal. Even with sunken eyes, one can learn how to see. Even though these dark things seem that they could last for all eternity – the truth is that’s what a crisis feels like, not how it is.
In the Opera Box, Ocellus’s friends, their thoughts went back to the early days of their friendship. Of Chancellor Neighsay’s prejudice that closed down the school and them fleeing to the abandoned Castle of the Two Sisters. One could see that viewpoint as a dark point in history as a crushing, oppressive time where ignorance was seen as truth – and the idea that any creature besides ponies was blasphemy. A time where some thought the desegregation between ponies and all other creatures was impossible – but with time, they were proven wrong. If anything, in their eyes, Equestria has grown richer for that.
Soon this short song has ended, much to the applause of the audience. At this moment, two things were happening at once. In the opera boxes where the Changeling choir were, they stood up proudly. On stage, the orchestra was getting ready, and, judging on the looks on their faces, it is one that they’re looking for. Ocellus looked over her shoulder at the conductor, waiting for his cue to begin a milestone of a song.
With a nod from the conductor, Ocellus suddenly saluted as the orchestra played the first few bars of the Prench national anthem.
At first, there was a burst of confused laughter and wondered if the music sheets were mixed up. But then, as bold as brass, the choir began the actual song by chanting the word “Love.” When it was Ocellus’s turn, she distilled her decoration that in a few words combined the goals of those who like her that wanted to change the world through peace and love through a positive message. That there’s nothing that can’t be done. Nothing anyone can do that can’t be sung. Nothing anyone could say, but they can learn how to play. Where nothing that’s made can’t be made. That no one is outside of being saved. That there’s time to be themselves in time. Where nothing isn’t knowable. Nothing they could see that isn’t shown. There’s nowhere in the world they could be where it’s where they’re meant to be. After all, sings Ocellus, it’s easy.
It’s a song that reminds the listeners both within the theater and outside that love is a stronger force than hate. Powerful in meaning, simple it is in their lyrics.
Although the singing is simple, the orchestration for it was enormous but consistent. Every note of every bar was an exuberant, joyful tone in celebration. From the brass that was cartoonish to the strings that were light as a summer’s sunset – there wasn’t anything about it that reflected on the theme of love. Not just the romantic sort but of every kind of love one could imagine. Even the choir up above were swaying and singing their hearts out at this simple but explosive message that “All You Need is Love!”
This song was both out of its time and timeless at the same moment. It sounded decades behind while being centuries ahead. The message was as stubborn as a national monument that deserves to be where it is. An incredible contradiction that let the audience in awe just to hear it. But what music it was to hear it still!
Not to mention catchy. When the music reaches its coda, when the choir and audience swing their reply with “Love is All You Need!” back and forth; outside of the theater, the listeners were doing the same thing. Replying to the radio, being caught up with the tune in answering back that simple song.
But unfortunately, as much as anyone wanted this song to go on forever, it came to an end with well-deserved applause. The choir took a seat and the orchestra did the same for a rest. All except for the pianist which a spotlight on him and Ocellus shines down on.
She said into the microphone. “As we near the end of the show, I’d like to make some dedications here and there. To start, this goes to everyone that has helped craft these songs from the late Forge Hayson to the drummer Mango Star,” she gestured to him at the back of the orchestra, “and even my songwriters, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. This song is dedicated to them, their struggle to be recognized, as well as the hardship their friendships had to endure all these years.”
She instantly began by singing aloud “The long and winding road,” with the piano accompanying her. In this ballad, she sings of a difficult journey down a path seemingly without end. A long road that is less traveled through the wild storm at night that is enough to leave one crying for a better, sunnier path. She pleads to don’t leave her here alone to face these obstacles but to lead her towards the end to that door she seeks.
Up in the balcony, Pull and Dawn reflected silently on their lives leading up to this point. Decades of trying to move on from the broken pieces that remained and trying to find a job. All those wasted years of being an artist or a salespony when either of them could have done this.
Dawn looked back on the previous fifty years. Of how much he avoided Pull at nearly all costs and the bitter divorce the followed. The difficult return to art school and the harsh climb to earn his degree. He reflected being in a drugged-out daze, the swirls of protests, and going through the world by the cheapest of means for inspiration. How he battled alone with loneness before settling down in Ponyville to paint in solitude.
Pull looked back at the extra fifty years by him dismantling the band. Sure, he could have done it civilly, but his emotions and anger got the better of him when the band broke up. Then he spent decades trying to find a stable job as he settled down. Suddenly, his fame dissolved into the workforce of millions at a white-collar job of going door to door with products to sell. It was a well-paying job, all it cost him was boredom and being away from home for years at a time. Slowly forgetting those famous songs, he created until they were but a whisper to him.
Quietly, they both realized how absurd it was that it took them this long face one another and say that they were sorry. How through this one teenager who believed in their capabilities could have them craft amazing songs that now the whole world thirsted for more of their talents.
After the song was over and the audience applauded, Ocellus spoke again. “And now, mares and gentlecolts – I’m going to have to cheat a little as this is technically an update of a song that’s already been released. Yet, given the circumstances, I do feel that this arrangement should be fitting for the show. Because I’m dedicating this song to my parents who have supported me on so many levels. And now, I want to give at least a little something about what they mean to me.”
From the first notes of the electrical guitarist, fans instantly recognized the tune as In My Life. Many already know of the sweet lyrics of this great love song – but the dedication gave it more depth. The idea that in all of her life, with all the changes – for good and bad – the places she’s been to and all that mattered was the ones that mattered to her. A sweet sentiment, for sure.
Even the orchestra emphasizes how sweet this gesture is; the violins especially made the tune as sugary as salt-water taffy. To keep it light as cotton candy, and warm as a funnel cake served at a fair. Even the braeoque style jig from both the solo violin and the other violins danced joyfully like a Griffish highland fling.
However, what many in that audience – not even for Ocellus for that matter, was that in the back row of the Opera House, her parents and her little siblings were listening. The love from her daughter that echoed in the building brought pride to their hearts. What their daughter has accomplished in a matter of months, and her decision to step down after giving the world the best was mindboggling. The two of them held their hooves, both out of love and out of pride for the gratitude of Ocellus.
Soon the song was over, and even among all the applause, Ocellus took in several deep breaths because she’s about to do another big one – but one that is arguably monumental compared to the others she’s done so far.
“Everyone,” she begins, “before we get to the next song, I want to give everyone some context for what I’m about to sing.” Glancing up at the Opera Box where Dawn Lemon was, she said: “Once upon a time, one of the songwriters had a son. A son called Jude. His father was cold growing up, spilled many tears from a dad who had high standards. After the father divorced the mother, the son was never seen again. The father grew into an old stallion and realized that he wasn’t a good dad. He wished that he could find his son and apologize for not being so cold. We don’t know if he’s listening to this right now, but Jude, if you are hearing this. Dawn says he’s sorry. And this song, is dedicated to you.”
At first, the piano gave a short but sweet prologue before Ocellus started singing. But when she did… it was hypnotically divine. Addressing Jude, she angelically sang words of comfort, like a parent, would to a distressed foal. Encouraging to take a sad, tragic, heartbreaking song and improve it. Telling him to don’t be afraid, that the moment he lets him under his skin, then he could start to make his situation better. That if he ever feels the pain, stop for a moment because it’s not his job to carry Equestria on his back.
There was something emotional in this song; more than usual. A quality between her and the orchestra that drove a powerful sound that seemed much bigger than themselves. Even when neither performers know what exactly that was. The audience could hear it as well that there was something monumentally special about this song.
It had the momentum of Beethoven’s ninth symphony, the grace of Moztrot, the power of Maneler, and the melody of Tchycoltsky all rolled into one piece. Regardless of who was listening, this was the best song of the evening. Yet, above all, there was a tenderness unlike any in music history.
Up in the balcony, although Pull wrote the balk of this song, Dawn felt that this song was addressing both his son and him. Although he knew that this song was composed by his friend, Ocellus seemed to not only own the song but sounded as if she were talking to him directly. That she was looking past of all the bad and hurtful things he did and instead focused on the good things he can do. It was the kind of song that he had waited all his life to hear.
A few minutes into the song, just when it seemed this gorgeous song was running out of steam, Ocellus and the orchestra builds up the music into a divine crescendo. With her voice and the strings building up higher and higher, only to explode into a coral with a melody that goes on seemingly without end.
It sounded foalish at first because the lyrics – or lack thereof – were so simple that anyone could sing them. Yet, so catchy were the lyrics that the audience fell under its spell in singing along until it seemed the whole world joined in the coral. Although the words were nonsense, the infectious joy it brought where for a brief moment, they were all one. From the rich to the poor, the powerful and the powerless were united.
But as much as the audience, the orchestra, even Ocellus wanted it to on forever, it did. The applause lasted for a good solid minute before they had to move on.
“Thank you. Thank you everycreature.” Ocellus bowed. “It’s almost time for me to step down but-” she was interrupted by a chorus of protesting voices. “I know you want me to continue singing, but we have to face facts in that I’m a teenager, and school is coming up for me. As fun as it was to be a Beatle, I’ve grown an appreciation of a normal life. I want to get back to the friends and family I have.
“But before I go, I have two surprise gifts. First, to Dawn Lemon, although this technically isn’t considered as a Beatle song, this is unquestionably yours. I want to show you what your message of peace means to some of us. In fact, for all Changelings in the audience, I now ask you to rise for the Hive’s new anthem. An anthem not of what we are, but what we could become one day.”
Around the theater, not only did the Changeling choir rose up, but several more scattered in the audience as well. Dawn looked about him, perplexed. So he turned to Pull, “What is she talking about?” he questioned, “I never wrote an anthem.”
His confusion gave way to surprise as soon as he heard the first few bars from a solo piano. Instantly just when every Changeling in the theater raised their hooves to sing that Dawn recognized his song.
It started with the piano beginning this almost nursery jingle with its cords. Then the voices of Changelings invited everyone to imagine a place without Elysium or Tartarus, where there is nothing above them except the sky and nothing below except the ground. They urged to try to imagine all creatures, with nothing to be threatened or rewarded for just living for today.
Before they could get to the second verse, suddenly the lights in the Opera House went out, and there was a sudden green flash on stage where Ocellus stood. Then as the lights came back on, she took on the form and voice of Dawn Lemon. The moment that she started singing, the real Dawn Lemon was mortified. Even though he was a songwriter, he hated the sound of his voice, and now that Ocellus was doing an accurate impression of that voice horrified him.
On stage, Ocellus sang the second verse where she offers the audience to imagine no countries where there was nothing to go to war over. In the royal box, this got King Thorax’s attention, even when she was singing to picture all creatures living a peaceful life. She sings a chorus where although others would call her a dreamer, she isn’t alone in this.
Although Dawn was getting angry that she would do this without telling him, he noticed that the Changeling King was on the edge of tears. Not just him, but he could see it in every Changeling in the audience that what was being sung was something that they all longed for. It struck him then, that knowing that these creatures had a long history of war and invasion, especially under a cruel leader like Chrysalis, all they wanted to be at peace. And this song, even for a brief moment, was giving that to them.
But the watershed moment came in the final verse. Dawn returned to Thorax as in the song it mentioned to imagine a world without greed or hunger that tears came out. For Dawn, although he wasn’t the one singing this song, he was blown away by the power of his talent had on so many. His simple song was speaking to these creatures on a personal level than he would ever know.
Maybe… his songs and his voice were worth sharing.
By the end of that song, it received a standing ovation.
Ocellus flashed back to her normal self and gestured a hoof over to the Opera Box towards the composer. “Dawn Lemon, everyone!”
A spotlight crept across the stage, over the curtains, over to the other boxes until it reached the right one. Dawn, being caught in the light simply waved at the cheering crowd.
It took a while to calm the audience down when Ocellus spoke into the microphone. “And now, for my second gift is for Pull. In fact… Hey Pull, come down here.” She waved, and although the audience wasn’t sure what she was doing (and neither was Pull) but they gave a polite cheer for him to do so.
So, the old stallion had to get up and excuse himself to find his way towards the stage. He waved to the audience as he went up to Ocellus.
“Pull,” said she, “I cannot think of any other way of ending this night better than to have you close it. So, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged a little something for you to introduce the world what you can do.”
“Uh…” He leaned over to her, whispered loud enough that the microphone can pick it up. “Which song are we going for?”
“Something I think you’d be familiar with.” Ocellus replied. “The ending melodies from a place called Abby Road. Oh! And before that, I have something for you.” Waving a hoof, Fancy Pants reentered on stage. In his aura was a wooden, electrical guitar. “I had the strings switched around for you.” She said.
Pull took hold of the guitar as if grasping the hoof of an old friend. He smiled, realizing exactly what the young Changeling had in mind. Ocellus stepped aside from the microphone and let Pull take her place. Back in the spotlight with a fresh new start, he turned over to the pianist nearby and nodded.
Out of everything that happened that night for Ocellus, after singing landmark song after landmark song – having Pull McCart sing and perform with was incredible. Despite being ancient, a touch out of practice stallion, he took that reversed guitar in front of all listening ears around Equestria and turned out an amazing performance. Not only that, but for her playing with him was a dream come true – to play with a genuine Beatle.
With a near-shaky voice, he spun a melody that was something like a lullaby between the gentle tempo of the piano, the swelling of the strings, the momentum of their guitars, and eventually the drumming rhythm of Mango. There was something soothing but intriguing in how Pull sings Golden Slumbers. It resembled like a subdue power ballad and yet, not at all.
But that quickly changed when Mango got stronger beats on the drums and the choir sang with tremendous momentum with collective ecstasy: “Carry That Weight!” The second melody had the flare of a religious rhapsody. There wasn’t a member of the Changeling choir that wasn’t swaying, nor a single musician of the orchestra that wasn’t enjoying this bit. It was powerfully emotional, especially in Pull’s voice that leads the way, impressing the audience in how naturally he was at this despite his age.
Then, came the final melody. Although the tone suddenly and unexpectedly changed to a more rock sound, Pull wasn’t thrown off by this sudden change. He almost screamed into the microphone out of passion at this last bit of the music. He stopped for a moment to wave Ocellus over to help finish out. The young Changeling grinned happily as she quickly to the microphone. Together with their guitars and their voices, they gave the audience a wild roller-coaster ride of bars that went between the two of them this way and that. All the while, both of them repeating the phrase: “Love you!”
However, this incredible virtuosity ceased, leaving a ticking piano to echo in the Opera house. Together, Ocellus and Pull sang the final lyric in harmony of The End. What followed after that as the orchestra, electric guitars, Mango, and the choir tied it all together with a bow – sudden pops of confetti rained down on the audience in colorful celebration as the song came to an end.
The lights of the Opera house lit up, and the whole audience was screaming in cheers as they once again stood up. Dawn quickly got out of his seat and was usurer towards the stage. By the time he got there, the musicians from the Neighponies band, to the choir, even the orchestra were taking turns to bow.
“C’mon!” Suddenly Ocellus was grabbing his hoof and dragging him towards the front of the stage, next to Pull. She took hold of Pull’s hoof and raised both of them high to the tempestuous roar of the crowd.
They took a bow.
“Okay, let’s call it what it was,” Smolder said, “Best. Concert. Ever.”
It was about half-an-hour after the concert was finally concluded. Backstage in a dressing room, Ocellus invited her friends to ask them how it was.
“You know what?” Sandbar told her, sitting on the desk, his back against the row of mirrors. “I can’t think of a dull moment all night. It was so perfect to start to finish.”
“I’ll say!” Silverstream said, wrapping an arm around Gallus. “I don’t know how you did it, but I think that might have been the most awesome, incredible, inspiring concert of all time!”
“And how many concerts have you gone to?” Gallus smirked.
“Yona is a little sad this Ocellus last concert.” Their Yak friend expressed. “Wish it could go on longer.”
“Just remember,” Ocellus pointed out, “there’s a record being released tomorrow where it has a lot of other songs that I couldn’t fit into the concert. And between you and me, I’m upset that I didn’t get to sing Let It Be, it was a good one!”
“Don’t worry,” Smolder patted her on the back. “I’m pretty sure that we’ll listen to it as soon as we can get a copy.”
“You know what?” Sandbar hopped off from his seat and shook Ocellus’s hoof, “I know you’ll stop making music from now on, but after tonight, consider me as a fan.”
“Thanks,” she smiled. “Frankly, I’m just looking forward to being a student again.”
“At least someone’s excited about staying in a classroom,” Gallus smirked.
There was a sudden knock on the door, to which Pull, Dawn, and Mango peeked their heads in.
“You ready to go?” Pull asked.
“There’s an afterparty with our names on it,” Mango said.
“Just a sec,” Ocellus told them before turning around to hug her friends. “Thanks for putting this up for me. I’ll see you all when school starts.”
Her friends hugged her back and bid her farewell.
She walked out of the dressing room with the other three stallions. While Pull and Mango took the lead, Dawn walked beside her. “You know…” he started. “What you did back there took me out of my comfort zone.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back. “I know, but the song didn’t feel right without me-”
“Let me finish.” He cut her off. “What you did back there, you did it without asking me first. But with that said,” Pull and Mango opened the backstage doors, “it got me thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“Well when I was seeing all those faces, and how much it had an effect from my song. It got me thinking that… maybe I can do all that stuff you said about me.”
They walked down the alleyway, towards the parked carriage.
Ocellus smiled. “That’s good to hear. Because personally, I think ponies need your songs now more than ev-”
“Ms. Ocellus.” A new voice called out from somewhere behind them. Curious, Dawn looked behind them. And before Ocellus could do the same, she suddenly felt agony as an arrow was shot at her. Then another. And another. And another. She screamed and fell to the ground.
It happened so fast. Pull and Mango turned around to see the Young Changeling gasping, crying in pain. Dawn with a flash of rage, charged at a stunned stallion, dropping a crossbow. A chubby unicorn who was light green, blond mane, and had an owl for a cutie mark. Dawn punched him in the face as hard as he could and kept punching.
“No!” Pull screamed, “Goddesses no!” he rushed over to Ocellus while Mango rushed out to scream for help. “Ocellus! Say something!”
“I… I…” she gasped, “C-Can’t… breathe…”
Mango continued to cry for help.
Looking up, Pull saw Dawn still beating the assassin. “Dawn! Help me!”
The enraged Dawn looked over his shoulder before giving Aficionado another punch to the face. Although dissatisfied, he got up to assist his friend.
“Stay with us, Ocellus,” Pull pleaded, seeing her eyes were starting to close. He looked at Dawn, “We need to get her to a hospital, now.”
“And what about this piece of rubbish?!” Dawn pointed at the stallion. “Someone should stay so he could be taken away.”
“This way!” Mango’s voice ringed out as a couple of the Royal Guard came galloping in on the scene.
What happened for the next few minutes was a blur. Mango and Pull loaded Ocellus up in their carriage where one guard offered to show them to the hospital. The other stayed with Dawn to arrest the bruised Aficionado. While the stallion was put in hoofcuffs and was recited his rights, both of them noticed how despite what he had done, he didn’t try to resist. Even with the one arrow left in the repeating crossbow, he didn’t try to use it.
The guard (who was a unicorn) sent up a signal to call in for backup, given the gravity of the situation. Dawn went up to the bruised assassin, his back against a brick wall, hooves in cuffs and an anti-magic ring on his horn, looked at him in the eye, and said one word.
“Why?”
Aficionado looked up, “All I wanted,” he said, “was to be with my hero. An autograph, a picture, maybe a few minutes to get to know her. Yet… I was turned away again and again. And this concert only proved what I had thought for a long time now – she’s a hypocrite. She says that’s she’s all for peace and love, yet she has millions, hardly spends a few minutes with her fans, and now she’s stepping down for – what? So that she could spend the rest of her days in luxury and not give a thought about anyone like us that supported her? She doesn’t care. So, what I did was doing the whole world a favor and sparing everyone from what damage she could have done. And you know what? I hope she drops dead.”
Dawn’s eyes were filled with rage, tears dropping from every hateful word Aficionado said. He would love to beat him further. Would have done something horrible after what he did to an innocent teenager. But looking directly at a murder’s mad gaze, he replied. “Here's an idea: why can’t you give peace a bloody chance?”
Pull McCart didn’t want to believe it. The past several days didn’t seem real. The news didn’t sound right. Nothing about this was, in any point of view – right.
They did try to get her to stay awake on the way to the hospital. Ocellus wheezed and choked as their carriage hurried as fast as they could. He remembered how desperately he and Mango tried to keep her alert and awake – to stay just a bit longer.
It shouldn’t have been like that. Not to a young teenager who just wanted life to go back to normal. Not after all she had did for all of them. Least of all, her last audible words should not have been:
“I’m scared.”
Those words went around Pull’s mind when they got to the hospital. When they waited for the doctors and nurses to do everything they could in the Emergency Room to keep the young Changeling alive; it mortified the old stallion of how closely everything resembled when Dawn was murdered. Pull prayed to whatever force in the universe that history should not repeat itself.
Yet… it did.
This time he saw it all up close. This time he got to see when Ocellus’s family was called in that they scream and cried at the doctors to tell them that they were lying. For hours in the hospital, no one could believe that The Beatle, Ocellus, was dead.
For Pull, the past several days was a blur of wailing; candlelight vigils; black fabric; public anger at the murder who shot her; and worst of all – questions. In preparation for the funeral, Pull had to face some difficult questions with no easy answers.
Could he have prevented it?
Was she fated to die?
Was this a side effect of his wish?
Is it right for her to take Dawn’s place?
Should he… undo his wish?
In one of the rooms of Canterlot’s palace, he watched an endless river of mourners of fans come in and out to see the little Changeling in her coffin. The entire ground of the room was almost entirely covered in flowers and the air with crying. Pull didn’t take notice of the endless procession who came and went. He thought he saw Fancy Pants. Maybe King Thorax. Ocellus’s friends? Truthfully, he wasn’t paying attention except for the delicate coffin before him.
The coffin that Ocellus laid in was not a typical kind that was made out of wood or metal – instead, it was woven with plants. Since the announcement of her death, the Hive where she lived worked around the clock to fashion a coffin that was made out of any plants they could get their hooves on. Palm leaves, vines, flexible branches of lilacs, sunflowers, birds of paradise, a few roses, tall grass, oak, and maple leaves were used to create this incredible casket that resembled a basket with a lid. Next to the coffin were stands that held reefs that had ribbons quoting from All You Need is Love and In My Life.
“Have you heard?”
“What?” Pull was suddenly snapped back to reality to look up to see who spoke to him. Dawn took a seat next to him, a newspaper clenched in his hoof.
“Ocellus’s murderer,” he said, “it’s been announced that he pleaded guilty. From what I could find, it sounds like the court here is going to give the lunatic a life sentence. I…” Dawn let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “None of this is right.”
“It’s too sad.” Pull agreed. “She’s too young and yet… helped the old band so much.”
Dawn patted him on the back. “I know… I know…” After a long pause with about a dozen or so visitors that came by to visit the body, he spoke up again. “She’s lucky, you know.”
“How?”
“Well, even though she has been doing this for less than a year, she’s certainly going into the history books for sure. We may have written the songs, but if we’re honest, they’ll remember her more. She was the muse and the singer; so, what she came up with is so incredible, so beautiful that I don’t think anyone is going to forget it anytime soon.”
Pull broke a smile. “Undoubtedly, have you seen the number of copies the final album sold for?”
“Well more than that.” Dawn explained. “Those songs all of us made have something timeless about them. They might be a hit back in our day and, who knows, be still a hit hundreds of years from now. The brut may have shot her, but she’s already immortalized.”
Nodding, a thought came to Pull’s mind. “So… what do we do now?”
“Huh?”
“I mean… Now that she’s gone, and there would be no more Beatle songs, what do you think we should do now? I don’t think we can bring the band back together again.”
“I have been thinking that too lately. Thinking hard about our talents and what she thought of us.”
“And?”
Dawn hummed. “I think… She saw something in me that I’m capable of doing something good with what I have.” He looked over to Ocellus, “I have seen hatred, and pure violence up close that night. Even now I can still hear her screaming. This isn’t a world I want to live in. She, and everyone else deserves better than that.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Well, that concert gave me the answer. When she sang my song, I saw so many faces that wanted what I described. Perhaps, I could advocate for peace by writing songs again. The kind where I and so many others wanted to hear. It’s about time for the world to give peace a chance.”
Pull snickered. “Hey, I think you found your new song already.”
“What?”
“Give peace a chance.” He said before quickly adding: “You might make something of that.”
This gave Dawn pause. “Huh… Come to think of it, you might be onto something.” Then a thought came to his mind. “But what about you? What are you going to do?”
Pull frowned and slowly got up. “I don’t know.” He said. “I think I would give a go at songwriting and performing from now on but… right now.” He looked at Ocellus for the last time. “I have much to think about.”
In the White Tail Woods, Pull was alone. A month after Ocellus was buried, he had a monumental decision to make. It was a difficult one where it consumed most of his time. He reflected and weighed against what Ocellus had said when he revealed the truth.
‘All she wanted was to get our music back out there. Did everything she could to piece those forgotten songs back together… Yet, it wasn’t the only thing she did. She repaired my friendship with Dawn and Mango. She reminded us what being a Beatle was all about. But her saying she robbed our destiny? Goddesses… She went to her grave thinking she was a thief!’
Pausing for a moment to adjust his saddlebag that contained the ingredients of what made this mess in the first place, he continued down the dirt path. Around him, birds chirped, and bugs buzzed, and the leaves started to turn in the morning light.
‘On the other hoof, Dawn is alive now. He’s making new songs and leading a peace movement. I have my friend back.
‘Only… is the cost worth it? My friend for an innocent? Yes, Dawn is alive and well, but without Ocellus believing that we’re capable of doing so much, he wouldn’t be back to his usual self. Now I think of it… if it weren’t for her, I think I would have forgotten what I’m capable too. It’s been so long that anyone thought we were worth paying attention to. Yes, Dawn’s not perfect but… was it worth for her to take his place?’
He paused as he noticed that there was a familiarity with the trees, the rocks, the path, and the mountains. Looking around, he spotted the clearing that he was looking for.
‘Then again… if you do this… Dawn will have to die again. This might be the last time you would get to have him be around. But… is it possible to have both of them be alive? Perhaps I could make it so that neither of them gets killed. Only… what if I change it too much and I make things worse to the point that I can’t reverse it?’
Pressing into the thicket of the foliage, Pull went towards the familiar clearing where there was a short sinkhole of mud. He sat down before it as he realized the gravity of what may come. Eyeing the saddlebag now and then, he thought, ‘After everything that has happened, am I going to turn on my back on her for the efforts she made? Would Dawn forgive me?’
“What the blazes are you doing all the way out here for?”
This made Pull jump in shock. Quickly turning around he found Dawn pushing his way through the bushes.
“Dawn? What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He said, “My train for Manehattan was delayed and I thought I go check on you. Then I spotted you walking into the forest and… what are you doing out here?”
“…. Thinking.”
Dawn snorted, “Pull, you’ve been doing that for a month. I’ve hardly seen you now. So, what’s wrong?”
Pull didn’t reply.
“Is this about Ocellus? Because if it is, Pull, I get it. We all miss her. I miss her too. But it’s not right to keep yourself sealed up away like a forgotten toy.” Walking over next to his friend, he sat down. “Pull, you can always talk to me. We’ve helped each other out before and I’m here now. Please, talk to me.”
He sighed. “It’s very complicated.”
“Explain it.”
“I don’t think you’ll understand.”
Dawn frowned. “Try me.”
Pull weighed his choice for a long, silent minute as the branches swayed in the wind. “Alright,” he sighed, “you win.” Looking up to face him he added, “Dawn, what I’m going to say may sound too incredible that you may not believe it.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll think I’m lying.”
“I won’t – I swear I won’t.”
Pull swallowed. “Even if I told you I was from another timeline… where you died.”
The forest became as still as a December morning. Pull observed Dawn’s expression freeze over at this news. He could see that there was a part of him that doesn’t believe it, but another, however, was still listening. “What?” Dawn asked quietly.
He nodded. “About… Thirty or forty years ago, from my timeline, you were shot in an alley in Manehattan. You died the same way as Ocellus did, by a fan that was mental with a crossbow. Before all of that, I was still angry at you for breaking up the old band and… I…” Tears formed in his eyes to the point where he couldn’t see his face. “I never got the chance to say goodbye.”
Tears dripped and fell from Pull’s face as he couldn’t speak anymore. He felt Dawn’s hooves wrapping around him tightly. Neither stallion said a word as one wept and the other lends a shoulder to cry on. Although Dawn’s mind was full of questions, for now, they can wait.
His friend needs him.
“But how did you find a way to go back in time?”
Pull sniffed. It was now in the afternoon, and after Pull was through crying his eyes out that he did as best he could to explain everything to Dawn.
“Came about it by accident.” Pull said, “One day I was doing a book signing at Canterlot’s library when I decided that I need a break. So, I took about to go about its halls when I took a wrong turn. I came across a section of the library that looked important but somehow – I still don’t know why – the gate was open. So, I became curious to see what was in there.”
“Of course you would,” Dawn smirked.
“Well I was minding my own business when looking around, a book caught my eye. It was a spellbook, one of those forgotten ones where the title said, ‘The Magic of Earth.’ Something drew me to open its pages and while I was flipping through, I saw a bit that shows how to make a wishing well.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Neither was I. Yet, finding that, I realized what I could do with this thing. If the thing does what it advertises, I thought that maybe… I could do something to prevent you from being killed. The thing said that it works by a law of exchange. That you have to give up something to get something. Get it? Here I thought that if that being the case, if The Beatles were disbanded before we became popular, then you wouldn’t go and get murdered. At least, that was the thought going in.
“So, I did everything that book said, got all the ingredients, chose this place to make that wishing well, made my wish, and jumped in. The next thing I knew, I was back in Trottingham, young again and back to playing at clubs. Years later, I found out that Ocellus had got her head stuck in the well when I jumped in – that was how that she and I remembered what actually happened.”
“Ooh…” Dawn realized, “That explains the whole remembering differently thing. And those songs, you and Ocellus weren’t just creating them – you lot were trying to remember how it went. This is how we were able to crank out all those songs so fast.”
Pull nodded. “So instead of you breaking up the group, I did it years before we were supposed to. I thought that if I did, we can still be friends, be happier and you be alive… Only it didn’t go as I hoped it would.”
“I’ve noticed.” Dawn rubbed the back of his head. “Goddess… if everything you told me was true, I think… maybe you do need to fix this.”
“What!” Pull looked up in alarm. “Did you miss the part that you died in my timeline?!”
“I heard. How old was I when I was murdered?”
“Around forty.”
“And how old was Ocellus when she was murdered?”
Pull looked at him in disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
“You said it yourself. She died too young and she had nothing to do with us until we dragged her into it. An innocent filly is dead because of us. Pull, I know we can’t help everyone, but everyone can help someone. If you think about it, that’s all Ocellus has been doing for us from the start. Now, I think it’s time to return the favor.”
“But if I do fix everything, you will die again.”
Dawn put a hoof on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not, it’s not the end.” Hugging him again, he added, “Please… Let me go.”
“But-”
“I’m an old stallion.” Dawn insisted. “I’ve lived a happy life. I’ve made peace with myself. Ocellus never got the chance to do either. Whatever you have to do, do it for her. Do it for me.”
Pull hesitated. “So… this is goodbye?”
“It appears so.” A thought came to him. “Paul, in over seventy years of life, let me share you something that I’ve learned from this timeline.” He asked what it was. “We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hope for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of those who embrace life.” He hugged him one last time. “Goodbye Pull.”
“Goodbye Dawn.” Pull said, his ears folded against his head. “I’m sorry for what I’m going to do.”
“I won’t hold it against you.” After the two separate, Dawn began to make his way out of the clearing and slowly walking towards Ponyville.
Alone, Pull, now having determination, set to work. Pulling out the rare and secret ingredients from his saddlebag, he poured and mixed together the wishing well. Soon, the mud in the shallow hole in the ground shimmered and glowed. Rainbows of light floated over the murky earth.
The wishing well was ready.
Pull stood over the edge of it, looking around and behind. Almost expected to see Dawn somewhere. But he was alone.
“I wish…” he said softly, preparing to take the great leap once more. “I could back to 957 Trottingham.”
And he jumped in – sinking through the well and back through history.
Ever since the train had pulled up to Ponyville’s station, Sir Pull McCart was followed by a mob of fans. Not that he didn’t mind that they took pictures or begged to have his autograph, although he preferred to be a little quicker towards the town’s School of Friendship. Of course, the town already knew that he came to meet with the students of this famous school.
At the same time, he had another reason to come. He wanted to make sure of something important was there. Or rather, someone.
When he first laid eyes on the school, he scanned the windows and its grounds. There were already students there to greet him, of course. As well as Princess Twilight herself to greet him at its front doors.
“Welcome to the School of Friendship.” Twilight offered a hoof to him.
“Princess Twilight,” Pull took a moment to bow before shaking her hoof. “This is quite the place you have.”
“Just Twilight.” She smiled. “I can barely express how huge it is to have a genuine Beatle at the school. My students have been buzzing about you coming to visit.”
“I can see that. They’re practically vibrating in place.” Pull pointed out to the crowds of other students behind her.
Twilight usurer him further into the school. Although the Princess talked on and the students were clumped tightly in the halls just to see him, Pull still searched around. Ever since that day he returned to the past, he did everything he could so that history returned to the way it was supposed to. With everything restored, Pull hoped that maybe Ocellus had now escaped that terrible fate. That maybe, somewhere she’s alive.
“…. Not to mention,” Twilight continued, “we have grown a diverse set of students here at the school.”
“Pardon?” Pull asked, snapping back into reality.
“I said that we have a diverse range of students from all around Equestria and beyond. We have other creatures who are attending this semester.”
“Such as?”
“Well apart from ponies from different parts of Equestria, we also have a few Yaks, Dragons, Hippogriffs, Griffons-”
“What about Changelings?” Pull asked.
“Well, so far we have one. And she’s a diligent student.”
Hearing this news started to give Pull hope. “Ah… I see.”
“Here we are!” Twilight waved a hoof to a room that Pull was quite familiar with, “This is our School’s music room.”
“Splendid.” He smiled. “So, shall we get started?”
“They’re waiting on you.” Opening the door, they entered into the classroom full of students with instruments. As Pull entered and scanned those who were there with guitars, violins, drumsticks, and so on – he spotted her. For a split moment, he couldn’t believe it but there in one corner of the room with a wooden acoustic guitar was Ocellus.
The first thing he did was to go up to her. “Hello there,” he said offering a hoof to shake.
Ocellus looked at him back and smiled, taking his hoof to shake. “Pull McCart, I presume?”
“No, Elvis.” He joked and it got the class laughing. “How are you doing?”
“I’m excited to be working with you.”
“It’s good to have you here.” He said. Although he wanted to talk with her more, other students were waiting to be greeted as well. So, he made a mental note to perhaps try to talk to her once all of this was over. He went around the room to say hello and shake every hoof/claw. Eventually coming back towards the front of the classroom, Twilight began with an introduction.
“Welcome everycreature to a special masterclass, and today we have the privileged to have Pull McCart as your instructor for music.”
“How is everyone?” Pull asked and the class responded that they were good. “You know, now that I’ve given myself some breathing room, I figured that I should come by today and share with what I know. So how about we get right into it? Would anyone like to come up here first to show what they could do?”
At first, no one in the classroom dared to speak up. However, Ocellus raised her hoof. “I’ll go first.” She said taking up her guitar. “You know,” she said, “not too long ago I had played one of your songs at a recital.”
“Oh really? Which one?”
“Yesterday.”
“Ooh! That’s a good one. I’ve been told that nowadays that song has become a benchmark for those that wanted to learn how to play the guitar. At least, those who wanted to become a serious musician, it’s one of those tunes that they should know, you know. So, is that what you’re going to play today?”
Ocellus shook her head. “I figured that I would do something a little more fun.”
“Now I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?”
“Let it Be.”
Pull hummed in thought. “Is it something you are going to sing and play?”
“I can. Why?”
“First off…” Looking around and spotting an upright piano he said, “Let’s do the vocals first where I would play the piano part. I want to hear how well you can sing it.”
“Uh… okay.” Ocellus said, watching the old stallion making his way over towards the piano. Facing the class, she let Pull know that she was ready.
At first, Pull played the small but grand intro, one that he had played more times than he was able to count. Then when Ocellus started singing of what his mother had often said to him, he noticed that it was on the quiet side but still enough for the room to hear. A sweet voice that as far as his ears were concerned didn’t have anything much to critique. The notes were clear and were on point, the words understandable, and there was a passion behind the voice to carry it from start to finish.
There was a part of him that she still has the talent to become a singer in her own right. Given that everything is back to the way it was, Pull reasoned that he had the recourses and connections to elevate her into public consciousness. And why not? He knew what she’s capable of, she had brought the music of the Beatles back and gone on tour in the other timeline.
Yet…
Looking at her now, at a timeline where there wasn’t a need for her to become a Beatle, she seemed so happy in the freedom of being a teenager. He knew that to do otherwise would rob her from the life that she has. A hard-working student with friends. One that may not carry the fame that she had in the other timeline, but one that was infantry happier still. For all he knew, she was glad to be with her idol.
All he had to do was look at her, and he could almost hear his mother’s voice telling him what they both knew all along.
Pull, let it be.
Overall, the masterclass was fun for Pull. He got to play, listened to the students, and gave them advice from the experience that he knows. There were jokes that were laughed at. Stories that were told. And the relief that Ocellus was alive.
So at the end of the class, after students went up to him to ask for autographs and pictures that he found the last remaining individual was the Changeling. Pull noticed that for a brief moment she had left the class only to return with an album of Sgt. Pepper’s.
“Excuse me,” she said after the last student left the room, “could you sign this for a friend of mine?”
“Oh sure,” Pull said as he took the album in his hooves. “Who’s record is this?”
“Sandbar’s. He’s the one that introduced me to The Beatles.”
“I’d say he has good tastes,” he laughed.
While he put his signature on it, Ocellus looked about to make sure that they were truly alone. “Pull… thank you.”
“No problem.”
“No… I mean coming back for me.”
This caught Pull off guard, suddenly looking up at her. “What?”
“You went back in time to fix everything, did you?” She asked. “You saved me from dying.”
Putting the signed album on a nearby desk, he inquired. “So… you remember everything then?”
“Well… It’s odd. Even though I clearly don’t remember doing any of the stuff like going on tour… it’s as if I really lived through it without doing so. I know, it’s confusing, even for me. But I recalled that for a few months… I was a Beatle. It was stressful, but at the same time amazing too. Some days I swear that I dreamt it, but I was there making songs with you and Dawn. As well as the big musical for the school, the concerts and… getting shot.” She looked over at him in the eye. “That was too real to be a nightmare, wasn’t it?”
“At least you didn’t have to go through it again.” Pull nodded. “Still, I shouldn’t have changed the timeline, to begin with… but the one good thing about all of this was that at least I got to meet you. Now that you do remember everything, I suppose I should thank you for giving me the perspective that I needed. You reminded me of not just what was important, but why.”
“It’s good to finally bring all this up,” Ocellus said. “You wouldn’t believe how tempting it was to want to tell my friends that I was a Beatle without them thinking I was crazy.”
“To be fair, you still are.”
Ocellus blinked. “What?”
“Thing may have gone back to normal, but in my eyes, you still are a Beatle. You’ve earned your place.”
“Wow.” The young Changeling grinned, “That is a lot coming from you.”
“Tell you what, if you ever get the chance to get a break from school, write me up. Or come around to Trottingham sometime. It would be grand to do some records with your input.” He winked, “In the meantime, I think we should keep in touch.”
She excitedly told him that she would.
“Hey Ocellus,” the two of them turned to a new voice. Sandbar walked into the music room. “Did you get Pull McCart’s auto…” He trailed off when he found Pull there. “H-Holy crap!”
“Sandbar, good timing,” Ocellus said, snatching up the signed album to give it to him. “I got the signature you wanted. And also, let me introduce you to a new friend of mine. Pull, this is Sandbar. Sandbar, Pull.”
“Oh, so this is the lad that has good tastes.” The old stallion said as he shook the hoof of a shaky one. Tilting his head, he added. “You know, if you had glasses and your mane was brown, I’d say you remind me of Dawn.”
Sandbar fainted.
Turning to Ocellus, Pull said, “Yep, diffidently a fan.”
Huh... Funny that I hadn't done this earlier. I want to give out this update of not only the complete music guide in this story that gives credit to the music below but also to give more attention to the new cover this fic has gotten by Geek Crossing. Once again, I'd like to thank you for the new cover. As well as thanks to all of you who have read this story.
