> Quiet
>  by bahatumay
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a high school like Canterlot High, there were very few times that things could be considered ‘quiet’. Certainly not during classes. The library was perpetually punctuated by giggling, page turning and Miss Cheerilee’s constant ‘shh!’ing. Even quiet study halls were filled with the sounds of pencils scratching, girls whispering, calculator buttons ticking, phone screen tapping, chairs scraping, people grumbling about the amount of homework they had (often accompanied by muttering disparaging remarks about Mr. Doodle’s ancestry).  

This was one of the many reasons that Vinyl Scratch always wore her headphones. This school was pretty crazy just in general, and she'd much rather listen to music she loved rather than the inconsequential noise of three underclassmen (or ‘underclasschicks’ might have been more accurate) wondering why that Rumble kid had no plans for the future.

She flipped her page over and paused. That couldn’t be right. She checked her assignment again and ran down the list of assigned problem numbers, and her fingers lined up each one. She’d done it. That was her last physics question. 

She sat back in shock. She was done with her physics homework. 

This had quite literally never happened before.

She looked around, as if expecting someone to pop up and proclaim loudly that she had been trolled while a camera crew emerged from nowhere. Suspiciously, she pulled out her homework problem list and ran down it with her finger, certain that she had missed a section. 

But she had not. She had completed all the assigned problems. 

Whether she'd gotten them right or not was Future!Vinyl’s problem, and honestly, she wouldn't care any less about that than Present!Vinyl did now. Letting out a breathless sound of exultation, she stuffed the papers and book into her backpack, swung her leg over the chair, and took off. 

Off in the forest behind the school, there had been at one time one of those small open air auditoriums that had long since been abandoned. The wooden gates and fences had collapsed, the stone benches bore spray paint from bored teenagers from various generations, cracks ran through the concrete from rain and time, and any copper wiring had long since been stripped.  

But she came here for another reason: the auditorium was silent. Something about the way the forest grew around it and how the lower part of the bowl was shaped deadened sound, but only in a little section. If you sat in one row, the entire world went quiet.

Vinyl grinned as she approached. She'd never made it here this early. She'd have plenty of time to just sit and…

She slowed to a stop. Her jaw dropped. There was someone else out here! A scowl crossed her face. Her secret place had been discovered! 

Oh, and even better: she was even in the perfect quiet spot! Not cool! Sure, it wasn’t technically hers, but still!

The girl looked over at her. She smiled and waved politely. Vinyl waved back at the intruder hesitantly. She was one of those girls she knew of, but didn't really know. Aside from the spot stealing, she didn't seem too bad. Friendly smile. Long blond hair, yellow eyes that… seemed to be looking in two directions at once. 

Well, far be it from Vinyl to judge someone on their physical characteristics. But she was still a bit irritated that someone had found her spot. It almost felt like she’d walked back into her soundbooth and had found that someone had touched her controls while she’d been gone.

But the girl didn’t seem to have any problem with her. With a little smile, she slid over a bit and tapped the seat next to her, inviting her to sit down. 

Well, it was better than nothing. Vinyl sat next to her and took a deep breath. The welcome silence enveloped her. She couldn't even hear the other girl’s breathing. She closed her eyes and let everything slip away. 

After a few moments to sit and reflect, she decided that it was kinda nice, actually, being quiet and not alone. Every once in a while, she’d glance over and make sure she was still breathing. It was so strange, finding someone else who could be quiet. And, against her better judgment, she was starting to like it.

But suddenly, there was the jarring sound of electronic beeping that made Vinyl jump. She looked accusingly at the other girl, but she didn't notice; she was looking at her phone, swiping her finger across the cracked screen to silence it. She stood up, waved goodbye, and left. 

Vinyl watched her leave, and then settled back in the seat. But something seemed off. It seemed… cooler here, without her. Like, in the ‘colder’ sense, not the ‘better’ sense. 

She pursed her lips. Weird. 

But now she had the place to herself, and there was quiet. So that was just fine with her. 





Another long school day had passed. Study hall came again, and Vinyl was irritated. These physics problems were making her want to test the kinetic energy released by throwing this book out the window. She checked the back of the book to verify her answer, but found she was wrong again. Her fingers clenched against the book cover as the temptation returned, even stronger now. 

But instead of violating school policy, destroying school property, and earning herself a trip to Luna’s office, she merely let out a wheezing grunt of frustration and let her head hit the table. 

She rotated her head and looked up at the time. What she saw made her sit up. If she left now, she’d make it to her quiet spot at about the same time as yesterday. She'd probably run into that other girl again, and sit by her. Did she want to do that?

Well, she certainly didn't want to do physics homework. 

It was an easy decision. She gathered her stuff, shoved it haphazardly into her backpack, slid on her headphones, and left. 

As she made her way across the street, a strange sense of apprehension grew inside. What if she wasn't there? She wasn't about to defile this place with physics homework. She'd just have to do it at home. Did Octavia have rehearsal tonight? 

Thankfully, that line of thinking ended when she arrived. The girl was still there, sitting softly, her hands resting on the little yellow tie she wore. Vinyl scuffed a shoe against the ground as she stepped down the stairs, so as to not scare her. 

She turned at the noise, and smiled when she recognized her. She waved in greeting, one Vinyl returned, and sat next to her, content.

Oh, yes. This was much better than physics homework.





The schedule was set, now. The next day, Vinyl rushed through all the homework problems she could, but she was watching the clock the whole time, and when that minute hand hit the three, she threw all her things in her backpack (except for her headphones, of course) and headed outside, heading for her quiet spot. She didn't mind sharing anymore, and was actually looking forward to seeing her. 

This time, the stranger seemed to be expecting her. When Vinyl arrived, she visibly brightened. Motioning her over, she pulled her backpack over and rummaged through it briefly before retrieving a plastic tub, which she opened to reveal a large muffin. She held it out. 

Vinyl paused and pointed at herself. For me?

She smiled and nodded. 

Never one to turn down free food, Vinyl smiled back and took it. She unwrapped it and took a big bite, and was silently glad she hadn't put on lipstick that morning. 

As she chewed, her eyes widened, and a little silent moan escaped her mouth. This was really good. It was sweet and rich, but not too heavy. She nodded and gave her a big thumbs up.

The other girl smiled, clearly proud at having elicited that reaction. She slid over a bit on the seat so Vinyl could sit. 

Vinyl basked in the joy of the taste of that glorious muffin a little longer before sitting. Her fingers brushed against her cheeks, as if she could sustain that taste a little longer. 

And then Vinyl was really sad when she left.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

One of the common complaints Vinyl received about her wearing headphones all the time was that sometimes, she got too lost in the music to pay attention to her surroundings. Far from being offended, Vinyl knew this was true; she just didn't care enough to change it. Music always overruled social interaction. Always.

As she made her way down to her quiet spot, bopping her head along with the music, she felt a spiderweb on her stomach. She swiped at it, trying to brush it off. But it resisted, snapping back on her stomach. Apparently, it was a really thick spider web. 

Not wanting to think about the size of spider that could spin such a web—but also keenly aware that she would want to know exactly where it was if it did exist—she opened her eyes and returned to reality.

It was not a spiderweb. It was a long strip of bright yellow crime scene tape blocking the way—and standing behind it, one fairly amused police officer watching her. 

She scrunched her eyebrows. This was unexpected. She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head and slid her headphones back, indicating that she wanted to communicate. She made eye contact, and then tilted up the palms of both hands in the universal ‘what happened?’ gesture. 

He jerked his head towards behind him. “There was an accident.”

Vinyl squinted. Then her eyes widened. Her friend—whose name she didn't even know!—may have been here! Would have been here! Her mouth opened, desperate for words that she just didn't have.

But then she saw a flash of yellow, and she was relieved to see her friend, looking shaken but very much alive, talking to another police officer, her hands clamped against her tie. Behind them, another person walked, pushing a gurney that was covered with a black tarp. 

Vinyl’s breath caught in her throat. What happened? Was her best friend secretly a serial killer?

She filed that line away under possible future lyrics and waved to get her attention. The other girl saw her and looked a bit relieved. She waggled her fingers at her.

But they must have wanted her to come make a statement at the station, because they gently brought her back to the front seat of a patrol car and drove off. Vinyl pursed her lips and walked away. At least it was the front seat, not the cage in the back, and she didn’t look like she was wearing handcuffs. 

But part of her wished she could give her a comforting muffin. 

Vinyl stuffed her hands in her pockets and huffed. She wished, anyway. Her skills were in the studio, not the kitchen. Octavia was the one who knew her way around an oven. Lumpy blocks of coal wouldn't help much here, and that was about all Vinyl could deliver. And if she’d had a dollarydoo for every time she’d mixed up sugar and salt, she could buy her a dozen muffins. 

Now dejected (and feeling a little off-balance from the combination of this event, the lack of quiet time, the prospect of physics homework looming over her, and the distinct lack of muffins), she turned and trudged home.





Flirting with death, ain't it a thriller? / My best friend is a serial killer. 

Octavia cut off the last note and looked up. Vinyl was already typing furiously on her phone, so she held up her smartwatch and gave it a quick shake to activate the screen, in anticipation of her text. It didn’t take long to arrive.

>Loved that crack on ‘friend’! You nailed it!

Octavia curtsied, which looked oddly out of place in the loose pajamas she wore. “Why thank you,” she said, her natural accent back in place. She stepped outside the soundbooth. “Is that all?”

Vinyl tapped rapidly. >I think so. Have to check the mix, but I think that’s it for vocals. Thanks so much!

“Of course! You know I'm happy to help.” Octavia ruffled Vinyl’s hair affectionately. “So what was the inspiration behind this one?”

Vinyl shrugged. 

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think that's true,” she prompted. 

Vinyl shrugged again, hoping she looked innocent. Her much more extroverted step-sister would have taken any opportunity to try and push her into being more social, and she didn’t feel like having that conversation right now (or ever, if she was lucky).

But Octavia seemed to know there was more to the story, and she wasn’t leaving without an explanation. She sauntered over. “Such a good song this will be,” she mused. She leaned in, looking at the screen. 

Vinyl knew that she had no experience with her DAW and knew there was more coming, but she was determined to push through. She should have just lied, said it came to her while she was daydreaming in class or something harmless like that, but she wasn't that good at thinking up stories on her feet. Her creativity was like a cat. When it struck, it struck hard; but it seemed to spend most of its time asleep at the keys, pretending to ignore her. The music had come fairly quickly, in just a matter of days; but it had taken her the whole walk home yesterday to even finish the first verse, and the chorus didn't come to her until halfway through lunch today. Which she'd promptly scribbled down on a napkin. 

It hadn’t even been her napkin. 

Octavia smirked, ready and willing to take things further. “Ten green bottles, sitting on the wall,” she sang. “Ten green bottles, sitting on the wall, and if one of those bottles should accidentally fall-”

Vinyl let out the loudest huff she could (which came out like a quiet, raspy sigh) and grabbed her phone. The last thing she needed was that earworm stuck in her head while she was working, and Octavia could and would sing multiple renditions. >Fine. Met a girl at my quiet spot. She found a dead body there yesterday and had to go talk to the cops. Happy?

“Very.” Octavia sat back. “A girl, eh? Is she nice?”

Vinyl nodded, thinking of the muffin. 

“Do you think I'll meet her someday?”

Vinyl glowered at Octavia as she poked her phone screen harder than necessary and sent the message without needing to look at the screen. >I am trying to work here. 

Octavia chuckled as she read the message. She stood elegantly. “Very well, but this isn’t over,” she warned. 

Vinyl rolled her eyes.





Octavia lounged on Vinyl’s beanbag chair, reading her English assignment. At least, she was trying to; she vaguely realized that she had reread the same paragraph a few times and hadn’t gotten anything out of it. She knew she should be sitting at the table, but she was getting really sick of this story, and surely a little comfort wasn’t too much to ask. 

Especially since Vinyl was out right now and so the coveted beanbag would be hers for the foreseeable future.

Her watch buzzed with a new text message. Glad for the distraction, she raised her wrist.

>>They’re bulldozing my quiet spot!

Octavia sat upright, the book falling to the side. She dug her phone out of her pocket and quickly typed a reply. >What??? Why? 😫

>>City is doing it I guess it's to avoid a lawsuit

Octavia bit her lower lip. The thought of just sitting in silence and not doing anything didn’t appeal to her in the slightest, but Vinyl loved it. As much as she enjoyed teasing her, that aspect of Vinyl’s life was off-limits; her quiet spot was holy ground to her. >Vinyl, I'm so sorry! 😥

Vinyl didn't respond for a while. 

Octavia scratched her chin. She should make her something, right? That would help? What did she have that was fast? Cookies? Those tasted best after chilling—though they had never managed to keep the dough around that long—but she doubted Vinyl would mind. 

>>I'm going to drown my sorrows in cheap cheeseburgers, you want anything?

Alright, she had calmed down enough to eat. That was a good sign. She typed her order—the same salad she typically got—and tapped send. She pushed herself up, mentally running through her ingredients list. The cookies would make a nice surprise, but she didn’t think it would quite make up for the loss of her quiet place.

Well, she’d manage, right? She’d just be spending a little more time in her soundbooth. Nothing wrong with that.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl Scratch scampered through the halls with a hint of urgency in her step. Having that impromptu drinking contest with that 54 oz Big Jug of soda with Pinkie Pie during lunch had seemed like a fun idea at the time, but now she was really regretting it—and not just because she'd lost. Right now it was because she wasn't exactly sure where the bathrooms were in this hall. She didn't have classes in here. This was the science hall, the world of the nerds. The only science she needed was on where to place her speakers, and personal experience had given her enough practice on that. 

She was just about ready to give up and go outside to make a mad dash to the locker rooms in the gym when she saw her friend, also walking through the hall. She looked a little different. Her yellow hair looked a little out of place, she held her books tightly against her chest, and she seemed a little frazzled, swaying a bit, like she was stressed about something. 

She needs quiet, like me, but she's not getting it. 

Vinyl shook her head. It was probably just school stress. The semester was ending, tests were looming, and projects were coming due. 

And so she needs it more than ever.

Cursing the voice in her head and against her better judgment, Vinyl found herself weaving through the hall, typing one-handed on her phone. She made it to her side and tapped her on the shoulder. Her friend jumped, but settled down and smiled when she recognized her. Vinyl held out her phone, but she didn't seem to understand. She cocked her head, and it took her a couple seconds to realize that Vinyl wanted her to actually read her phone. She took it hesitantly.

>Hey, if you want a quiet spot, I have a soundbooth at my house. It's not perfect and when trains go by you can kinda feel it rumble, but it's better than nothing. 

She smiled a half smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Vinyl blinked in surprise and took her phone back. 
>You can talk? 
She typed, then turned the screen to her.

Her friend read it and cracked a wry smile. “I can. I don't, much. Some people don't like my voice.”

Vinyl chuckled dryly as she punched in her latest message, her laughter coming out quiet and raspy like all her laughs did. 
>Sounds just fine to me. Better than mine, anyway.

She smiled. “I'm sure your voice is good, too,” she offered. 

In response, Vinyl shook her head, then lifted her chin and pulled the skin around her neck taut, exposing the web of scar tissue there.

She flinched.

Vinyl gritted her teeth, her hand snapping closed instinctively. She lowered her head, covering her neck. Stupid! Why had she done that? She never showed anyone these scars. It had never gotten a good reaction out of people. She waved her down and began typing faster. 
>Sorry! I shouldn’t have done that.

“It’s fine,” she said, but her voice was hesitant.

Vinyl wasn’t sure she was being completely honest. Still, she’d offered, and it wouldn’t be right to back out now. She kept typing. 
>Want to come over today? I can text you the address. 

She brightened. “Works for me. How does four sound?” 

Vinyl nodded. 
>Four works. 

She handed her the phone and her new friend put in her number. 

The bell ringing let them know they had run out of time. She gave the phone back, but it slipped out of her fingers. Vinyl was faster, though, and caught it just before it hit the ground. She grinned triumphantly. 

The other girl smiled sheepishly, adjusted her books again, and hurried off to class.

Vinyl looked at the new contact. Her eyes widened ever so slightly at the name. ‘Muffins’, eh? She pursed her lips. Oddly fitting. She turned to head to class, but something was bothering her. She’d forgotten something, hadn't she? She had. What had she forg-?

She grimaced as she came to a dead stop and a sharp pang hit her. Oh, wow did she have to pee. She turned to run outside towards the gym. Guess she'd be taking a tardy today! 





In the orchestra room, Octavia practiced, her bow smoothly sliding along the strings. 

Her watch vibrated with the text message pattern, enough that she noticed but not nearly enough to throw an artist like her off. She finished the section and then lifted her wrist. 

>>Remember the girl I met at my quiet spot?

Octavia raised an eyebrow as she retrieved her phone from the music stand, pausing the metronome app so she could reply. 
>I know OF her, yes.
>Are you going to introduce us? 🙏

>>She’s coming over to chill in my soundbooth today at four. Please, for the love of syncopation, don’t do anything weird.

>Weird? Me? Perish the thought. 😇
Octavia smirked as she tapped the send icon. She could almost see Vinyl’s pained expression. Oh, she knew exactly why she was worried. Admittedly, she may have been a little heavy-handed in trying to help her make friends at first, but she knew Vinyl better now, and if Quiet Spot Girl was anything like Vinyl, she knew exactly how to help grow this friendship.





Without her quiet spot, there was really no reason to stay at school longer, so Vinyl was back at home, trying to focus on her homework. That was a pretty lost cause at this point, though; she’d done the last calculation correctly but noticed that she’d punched in that the gravitational constant on earth was 7.8 meters per second, and she was 98.1% certain that it was not. She scowled at it and pulled up the history on her calculator to make that change. 

She paused. She sniffed the air. She stood up, pulling out her phone as she did, and walked over to the kitchen. 
>You’re making bread?

Octavia looked over at her watch to read the message, then looked back at her. “I like bread, Vinyl,” she said with an innocent little shrug. 

Vinyl knew she was doing this on purpose, but she loved Octavia’s bread, too. So soft when it was hot and fresh from the oven and with melted butter; oh, she was craving it already! She cracked a smile as she typed another message. 
>Now I REALLY don’t want to do my physics homework.

Octavia giggled merrily. “You’d better finish it. You can’t have your pudding if you don’t finish your homework,” she said liltingly.

She was teasing. Vinyl couldn’t keep the little smile off her face, but she tried to force a glare as she typed her response. 
>I know where you sleep.





Right at four, there was a knock on their two-toned door. Vinyl dropped her calculator like it was on fire and quickly headed down, typing a welcome message on her phone as she did. She opened the door and instinctively hit send, used to communicating with Octavia. She looked at Muffins, expecting her to check her…

Bare wrist?

Oh.

A bit too late, she realized that Muffins didn’t have a smartwatch, so she wouldn’t have gotten her message as quickly as Octavia would have. Her brow furrowed. Maybe Octavia was right.

Muffins stood there, a little bemused at being stared at. It took her a moment to realize that Vinyl had texted her; she hadn’t seemed to recognize her own ringtone. She slapped her pocket, then reached into it for her phone and pulled it out. It was an older phone, with a badly cracked screen. She read it and smiled a little smile, and waved at her, returning her greeting.

Alright, communication. Vinyl smiled and gestured with her head that she should follow. 

Muffins entered, and paused to sniff the air. 

Vinyl grinned. She gestured towards the kitchen.

Octavia was cutting a loaf of bread into slices. “Oh, brilliant timing,” she said, turning to look at her. “Welcome. I am Octavia.”

“Muffins,” Muffins said, her eyes (or one of them, anyway) immediately drawn to the steaming bread on the table. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Octavia gestured at the table. “Please, help yourself. I made it to share. Do you take butter, or jam, or-?”

But Muffins had already shoved the whole slice into her mouth and was eating enthusiastically, little moans of pleasure escaping her mouth. 

Octavia blinked, but then shrugged. She picked up her own slice and daintily spread butter on the top.

Vinyl quickly followed, taking the knife when she was done. 

“Thish ish sho good,” Muffins said respectfully, her mouth full. 

Octavia chuckled lightly. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Before long, all the slices were gone. Vinyl tapped Muffins on the shoulder and gestured with her head. 

Muffins paused for a split second, as if trying to remember, then quickly stood up, knocking her chair over behind her. She quickly picked it up. 

Vinyl cracked a smile. She led Muffins to her soundbooth, opened the door, and let her go inside. But as she started to shut the door, she spoke.

“Aren't you staying?”

Vinyl hesitated, but then nodded. A little quiet time would be nice. She went inside and closed the door behind her. She gave Muffins an easy shrug and lay down, patting the ground next to her. 

She understood and lay down next to her. 

And together, they were quiet.

It wasn’t quite the same. Their breath was loud enough to hear in here, mostly because it was an enclosed space. And the air was a little stale, since they were indoors. There wasn’t any airflow, no gentle breeze. 

But it was quiet. 

And it was nice. 

It was funny. Vinyl had had such a hard time explaining to Octavia her need for quiet. Octavia, being about as extroverted and bubbly as they come, didn't quite understand. 

That’s not to say she didn’t respect it, because she did; but she just couldn’t understand. Finding someone else who intrinsically understood what she needed and what she got from it was really nice, actually. She didn’t need to explain or feel like she was defending herself somehow.

Time seemed to slow down as she was quiet in her own space. It was like nothing existed outside. Or inside. It was just her.

Her and her new friend.

After a time, the alarm went off again, sounding oddly loud in the enclosed room and abruptly yanking her back to the real world. Vinyl sat up and looked at Muffins. 

Muffins didn’t notice, she was looking down at her phone to silence the alarm. “Sorry, gotta go. Have to pick up my little sister.” She looked down and sighed. “Might as well be her mom, though,” she mumbled. 

Vinyl scrunched her eyebrows, wordlessly asking for clarification. 

None was forthcoming. Muffins stood up and stretched, twisting her back around with a soft pop. “Thanks,” she said, seemingly slightly distracted. “It was… nice.”

It was. Vinyl nodded and opened the soundbooth. She led her to the two-toned door. Octavia waved as they passed and returned to her homework.  

“It was really nice, though,” Muffins said as she crossed the threshold. “Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

Vinyl nodded eagerly. 

“Alright. Text me?”

Vinyl nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Octavia was there. “I think that went rather well,” she said leadingly, her eyebrows raised. 

Vinyl chuckled dryly, but didn’t respond further. 
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lunchtime was Vinyl’s least favorite time of the day. It wasn't that she didn't like food, because she did. It was just the location. The lunchroom was loud and full of chattering and chairs scraping and laughter and the occasional gag from someone who had apparently somehow made it this far in their life without learning how to chew properly. 

So right before she stepped through the door, Vinyl pulled her headphones out of her pocket, unfolded them, and slid them over her ears. She let out a quiet sigh of relief as her music blasted. Much better. Loud music beat loud noise any day of the week. 

She waited in the lunchline, picking up her food from Granny Smith (odd name, really; was she even related to anyone in the school?). She may have been old, but she could make anything taste good. She left the line, holding her tray, and scanning for a place to sit. Octavia usually sat with some of her orchestra friends, and Vinyl tended to tag along, and sure enough, there was an open spot next to her. She slid in, nodded her greeting, and started eating her lunch. 

With her music and her lunch, Vinyl wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings. So when Octavia nudged her to get her attention, she didn’t have any context as to why. It could have been a response to a joke, or maybe her phone was going off, or maybe-

Muffins was approaching. 

Vinyl sat up and reached up to quickly push her headphones off. 

Muffins held up a familiar-looking plastic container. It now held a few small muffins. “So, uh, I wanted to say thanks for the bread, so I brought you some muffins.” 

Vinyl quickly grabbed one. 

Octavia gave a polite chuckle. “Thank you,” she said. “Really, it was nothing.”

Vinyl hit her gently on the shoulder with the back of her hand and gestured to the muffin. Stop talking. Try it.

Noting how earnest she was being, Octavia did just that. Bemusedly, she picked up the muffin, peeled back the paper, and took a small, dainty bite.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my,” she said, and she quickly took another, but larger this time. 

Muffins beamed. 

“That is rather tasty,” she said, looking intensely at it. She shook her head, remembering her manners. “Would you like to join us?” she asked, scooting to one side.

Muffins winced. “I actually have homework I need to get done,” she said. “But thanks.”

Vinyl nodded, her mouth still full of muffin. 

Octavia waved to her as she left, and as soon as Muffins looked away, she grabbed Vinyl by the shoulder. “You'd better invite her over again soon,” she said firmly.

Vinyl raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking for clarification, because her first thought was of Octavia joining them, and she wouldn’t have enjoyed it and they would have been cramped; her soundbooth wasn’t really that large. 

She leaned in and confided, “Don’t tell her, but I’m going to one-up her with my fudgy brownies.”

Vinyl expelled air out her nose and grinned. They competed, she won. This sounded good to her. 





Vinyl lay on her beanbag and rotated her phone in her hand. Great. Invite her over. Easy. 

Then why was she drawing a blank on how to do it?

This didn’t seem like it should be that hard. People texted all the time. She texted all the time. But something about this was slightly different. She just had no idea where to start.

Maybe she could ask Octavia?

She chuckled mirthlessly. She wasn't that desperate. 

Not yet, anyway.

Finally, she typed a single word and tapped the ‘Send’ icon.
>Hey.

That was good, right? Open-ended, nonthreatening. 

>>Hey!

Oh, she got a response. Now she needed-

>>How’s it going?

Oh, and a first question! Alright. This was doable.
>Not bad. School’s been rough, though.

>>No kidding!! 😭

Vinyl realized she wasn’t sure if there was etiquette for this kind of thing, so she decided to just go for it before she overthought it again. 
>Want to come over again?

>>Yes!

Vinyl blinked. Well, that was relatively painless. 
>Alright. When?

>>You’re the one asking me! 🤭

Vinyl cracked a smile. 
>Yeah, but what if I give you a time and you come over and your alarm goes off two minutes later and you have to leave?

Her brow furrowed slightly. Was that a little too far? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she should have asked Octavia.

>>Yeah, I wouldn’t like that. 😔
>>How about tomorrow?
>>Or is that too quick?

Huh. Vinyl let herself think for a moment that maybe Muffins was just as awkward at this as she was. She knew it couldn’t be—she was very nice and made some absolutely bomb muffins; she probably had tons of friends.

Ooh. There could be a lyric in there somewhere. 

Oh, she needed to respond. She didn’t really like it when someone took too long to respond to her.
>Tomorrow is great. Same time?

>>I’ll be there! 🙌

She switched conversations, tapping the purple treble clef. 
>Tomorrow at 4?

Octavia responded quickly. 
>>>Brilliant. I’ll be ready. Prepare to have your socks knocked off!

One side of Vinyl’s mouth poked up as she typed her reply. 
>What if I’m only wearing sandals?

>>>Then at least be sure to wear knickers!

Vinyl squinted, then switched to her web browser and did a quick search. 

Ok, that was funny.





Right at four, Muffins knocked on the two-toned door. 

Octavia opened it. “Ah, Muffins.” She inclined her head as she stood aside to let her in. “A pleasure to see you.”

If she found the somewhat formal greeting odd, she didn’t show it. “Mm-hm,” she said, stepping in. She looked up, her brow furrowing slightly as she smelled something else.

“Oh, that?” Octavia said airily. “It’s nothing, really. I was just craving something sweet.” She pointed. “Care for a brownie?”

“Sure,” Muffins said, following her in. 

Vinyl was at the table, a brownie already in her mouth. She gave Muffins a thumbs-up, her cheeks full of brownie.

With that endorsement, Muffins quickly sat down. She took a bite and moaned as little fudgy bits fell to the napkin. The brownie was so rich and thick!

Octavia met Vinyl’s eyes and gave her a smug smile. 

Vinyl thought she was trying too hard, but she wasn’t about to do anything that could jeopardize more baked goods, so she winked.

Her attention was drawn to the side. Muffins had taken a bit too big of a bite, and she had a big chunk of brownie stuck on the roof of her mouth. Her head tilted as she struggled to get it off with her tongue. 

It was cute!

…

Cute?

Vinyl looked down at the table, her brow furrowing. Where had that come from?

She looked up and realized that while she had been lost in her thoughts, Octavia had gotten Muffins some milk, averting the crisis.

Muffins looked over at Vinyl. “That… might be enough for now,” she said, a little embarrassed.

Vinyl nodded and led her back to the soundbooth.





Octavia was sitting at the table when they emerged. She looked up from the multiple books around her and waved goodbye.

As soon as the door shut behind Muffins, she pushed the book in front of her out of the way, revealing that it was a cookbook. “So, when is she coming back?” she asked primly. 

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, come now,” Octavia said. “My brownies were met with less than thunderous applause.”

Vinyl gave her an askance look. She had enjoyed them. 

“So I'm switching to something savory. She's not lactose intolerant, is she? I think my next attempt will be a nice pizza.”

Vinyl nodded eagerly. Octavia could do no wrong in a kitchen. She pulled out her phone. 

“Not right now,” Octavia said, sounding slightly exasperated. “I wouldn't want to come across as desperate.”

Vinyl’s thumbs hesitated. Did she come across as desperate?

“Oh, you can text her,” Octavia clarified. “And I think you should! I'm thrilled you've made a friend.”

Vinyl gave her a flat look, feeling a little patronized. 

“Just, er, leave me out of it. For now, anyway.” She smiled. 

Vinyl shook her head. And Octavia thought she was weird.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl walked down the street, her hands in her pockets. Her music was blasting in her ears, but she wasn't even sure what song it was, because her mind was on other things. 

Cute?

That didn't really mean much, though. Lots of things were cute. Kittens. Fluffy dogs. Unicorns. Octavia’s bow tie. Those little compact cars that looked like toasters. 

Ooh, a list song? She stepped off the sidewalk, sliding off her backpack, then pulled out her notebook and wrote those down. 

She made it to school before she realized that that could be a good opening for a conversation. Feeling somewhat inspired, she pulled her phone out and tapped on the line that said Muffins. 
>Hey, I'm writing some song lyrics, what are some things you think are cute?

There wasn't an immediate response. She bit her lower lip and then put her phone away. She didn't want to seem too des-

Her phone vibrated and she yanked it out of her pocket. 

>>Kittens, small pastries, does my sister count?

>Sure.
Vinyl had never met her sister, but that seemed like a safe enough response. 

>>I didn't realize you wrote your own music. 🎶

Vinyl thought of her four albums she'd released on streaming services. But she wasn't getting tons of streams and didn't want to sound like she was bragging. 
>I dabble. 
>What did you think I did in my soundbooth?
>It's not just a quiet place to fart. 
Vinyl winced, her fingers scrabbling at the keyboard. She hadn't really meant to send that one. It had been funny in her head, but she wasn’t sure how that would translate.
Thankfully, the response she got was

>>🤣

Vinyl let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Friendship was stressful!





But as it turned out, friendship got easier. 

After school, Vinyl lay on her back on the grassy ground, her headphones on, eyes closed, just listening, waiting for Octavia to come tell her it was time to go. It was so easy to get lost in her music. It was easy to just… be. 

And then she felt someone’s eyes on her. It was probably Vice Principal Luna—Octavia would have made her presence known a little more physically—but it was after school and she had no power here. Besides, she was enjoying this part of the song, and so she did her best to ignore her.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, and so she finally opened one eye.

She was being watched, but it wasn't Luna. It wasn't even Octavia. 

Muffins cocked her head and gave her a little wave. 

She scrambled to yank her headphones off of her ears and gave her an apologetic smile as she dug frantically in her pocket for her phone. 
>Sorry! Didn't see you there.

“It’s fine.” Muffins giggled, her eyes flicking down to the headphones Vinyl held, which were still playing loudly. “For someone who likes quiet, you sure do like it loud.”

Vinyl grinned and responded. >Yeah, but you know, day and night, hot and cold, sweet and spicy, you need opposites in your life. 

Muffins nodded, then paused and looked at the phone again to reread the text. She cocked her head. “I thought it was sweet and salty?”

>I think they form like this trifecta of flavors. Like sweet is tonic, you have to start and end with it, spicy is dominant, and salty is subdominant because you can’t end with it but you need it for more flavor.
As soon as she sent the text, the thought occurred to her that Muffins might not have understood musical theory. How else would she explain it?

But this fear was unfounded, she giggled understandingly. “And no love for sour or bitter?”

Vinyl shuddered and shook her head. 

“Well, what about sweet and sour sauce?” Muffins challenged, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a good combination.”

Vinyl paused, then nodded. She did like that. 

Actually, now that she said that, that was sounding really good, and her last gig money was still in her wallet. She sat up, her thumbs working the keyboard. 
>I could totally go for that. You want to come with? We can go tonight. 
>There’s a buffet restaurant I know of.
>I’ll buy.
She added that last one just in case Muffins thought she wanted her to pay. 

Muffins read the texts and hesitated slightly, then bit her lower lip. “I don’t really have time today,” she said regretfully. “And I really have to get going.” She quickly brightened. “But I could do Saturday?”

Vinyl nodded eagerly. 

“Alright. See you then!” She waved and started walking away. 

Vinyl smiled. And then her eyes widened as she quickly typed another message.  
>Oh, wait. Are you lactose intolerant?

Muffins looked down, then looked over her shoulder and shook her head. “I couldn't handle that,” she said with a little chuckle. “My favorite muffin recipe has sour cream in it.”

Vinyl squinted, and her nose crinkled. She put sour cream on tacos. She couldn't imagine putting it in a baked good. That just sounded wrong. >You’ll have to show me sometime. 

Muffins smiled a genuine smile and nodded again. “Can’t wait.”
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The constant noise from the kitchen had brought Vinyl out of her room. She looked over at Octavia, glanced over the countertops, and sent a message. 
>You're in a good mood. 

Octavia glanced down at her watch to read it. “Oh, am I?” she said innocently, raising her eyebrow as if mildly curious at the observation. 

Vinyl looked down at the cupcake batter she was mixing and gave her a flat look. While a single batch of cupcakes wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary, the fact that there was an additional two batches of pizza dough rising and another batch of brownies in the oven already definitely was more than a little odd.

She shrugged, conceding this. “Well, you see, today is Saturday.”

This wasn't news to Vinyl. She rolled her hand in the air, inviting her to continue. 

Her calm demeanor flickered. “You’re going out with a friend, Vinyl!” she said, clenching her hands into fists excitedly. “I’m so proud of you!”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. Octavia was overreacting. 
>Breathe, girl. I’m just getting food.
She paused, considering this, and powerwalked over to her room to retrieve her notebook to write that down as possible future lyrics. She came back out and gave her a narrow look as she typed her next response. 
>You are making this weird. 
>I'm not bringing you back a fortune cookie. 

Octavia giggled and returned to her baking. “I presume you have your meet-up time all scheduled?”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. 
>Yes, mom. 
>We’re going to meet up on the bus, ride to the restaurant, and eat our weight in gyoza.

Octavia raised a finger.

Vinyl kept typing, knowing where she was going with this. 
>And she has to watch her sister later so that’s it. 

Octavia lowered it, looking mildly disappointed, but she recovered quickly. “Very well. Have fun!”





Vinyl sat on the bench in the bus stop and bobbed her head to the music playing in her headphones. She almost wished she had gone to the next bus stop so she had an excuse to keep listening, but she didn't want to miss the bus Muffins was on. 

Before long, the hiss of bus brakes made her look up. She stepped onto the bus and lifted her sunglasses, her eyes scanning for Muffins. She soon spotted her sitting on the side. 

Muffins waved.

Vinyl smiled and sat down next to her. She instinctively pulled her phone out and cycled through her music, choosing a different, more appropriate travel song.

It suddenly occurred to her that Muffins was looking at her.

Oh, shoot!

She quickly pulled her headphones off and smiled, a bit sheepishly. She'd almost forgotten how to act around other people. 

Muffins giggled, seemingly unoffended. “I guess it's hard to have a conversation if only one person can talk.”

Vinyl smiled, hoping it didn't look too weird. This was all unfamiliar territory, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. 

Thankfully, Muffins didn’t seem too bothered. “It’s fine. I like watching people.”

Vinyl glanced around. She wasn’t sure that sounded like fun, and her hands twitched towards her headphones again. 

But Muffins seemed to be enjoying herself, looking around at everyone else on the bus, so Vinyl tried to sit there as best she could. 





Vinyl was glad she was wearing her sunglasses, because she was not sure she could hide her relief at getting off the bus. It was not quiet in there, and she wasn’t sure she understood the peoplewatching Muffins was enjoying.

But all that was done now, and it was time for food, and wow, was she hungry! She jumped down off the stairs, stepped aside, and paused long enough to stretch backwards, straightening up, raising her arms over her head, fingers interlaced. 

Muffins waited behind her for her to finish, then followed her inside.

The hostess smiled as she made eye contact. “Welcome! How many today?”

Vinyl held up two fingers.

“Alright. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Vinyl shook her head, making a little ‘no’ motion with her hands. She looked over at Muffins and cocked her head. 

Muffins looked between the two and realized it was her turn. “Uh, water’s good,” she said.

“Alright,” the hostess said, sliding over two clear cups.

Vinyl pulled the cash from her wallet and traded it for the cups, and they walked into the dining room.

Vinyl lifted her sunglasses and raised her eyebrows at Muffins, a little smile on her face.

“Ah,” Muffins said, realizing that she had gone that whole transaction without actually saying anything. Also, a buffet style restaurant meant that she didn't need to communicate any specific requests. That made sense. 

Vinyl picked up a plate and spun it on her finger. It was time.





Vinyl opened the door and stepped inside, but she couldn’t suppress a little groan. Octavia had done a lot of baking, and it smelled good, but she was feeling stuffed beyond mortal comprehension, though, and she had no desire to eat any of it. She looked back to make sure the door was shut behind her, and when she looked forward, she jumped. 

Octavia was there, smiling expectantly. “So, how was it?” she asked leadingly. 

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. She knew Octavia was going to grill her, push her to be more social, so she tried to play it off.
>I ate my weight in gyoza. It was a good day.

“Did Muffins enjoy it?”

>I guess so. I think she had fun. She ate a ton, too. 

Octavia clapped her hands. “Brilliant! I'm rather pleased your date went well.”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. 
>It wasn’t a date. I was craving food. I got food. 

“And you delayed getting it until she was ready to come with you, you took the check, and it was just you two. Planned, paid for, paired off. That’s a date,” she sang. “Vinyl, look at you!”

Vinyl waved her down irritably. 
>We’re just friends. A couple of introverts who like it quiet. 

“Oh, that’s how it starts.” Octavia said, waggling her eyebrows. 

Vinyl glowered at her and typed hard on her keyboard, maintaining the glower the whole time. 
>Yeah. No fortune cookie for you. 

Octavia chuckled and let it drop.
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl opened the door and gestured, inviting Muffins in. 

She smiled and stepped inside. She glanced around, realizing that the house didn’t smell like anything and the kitchen was dark. “I was half expecting Octavia to bake something today, too,” she admitted.
Vinyl cracked a wry smile as she pulled out her phone. The pizza last time had been fun, yes; but there was a reason she had suggested this day for their next Quiet time. 
>She’s gone for the week. Orchestra competition. 

Muffins nodded, making a small noise of acknowledgement. 

Her stomach then made a sound of its own. She grinned sheepishly.  

Vinyl winced. It hadn't occurred to her that Muffins might be expecting to eat here. She didn't want to keep her hungry. 
>I'm sure we've got snacks around here. 
>I know we have chips. 
She was going to list more snacks they had, but she was drawing a blank, so she sent it. She clicked her tongue. Maybe she should spend a little more time in the kitchen. 

Muffins looked down, considering this, then looked up. “Do you want to bake something?” she offered. 

Vinyl blinked. She cocked her head, curious at the invitation, and she couldn't suppress a little grimace. Octavia was the one who knew her way around the kitchen, not her. She only got invited in to taste test. And to do dishes. She lifted her phone to send a sheepish message. 
>I'm a disaster in the kitchen.

Muffins smiled. “Well, everyone has to start somewhere.” Her eyes brightened. “Want me to show you my muffin recipe?”

Vinyl shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant and not come across as demanding, but she felt her heart rate start to rise. Having fresh muffins here was an intriguing concept. Very intriguing.

“Muffins are quicker and easier to make than most people think,” she said, warming to the idea. “Do you think she'd mind?”

Honestly? Probably. Octavia liked her kitchen organized, and Vinyl had no idea where anything was. 

But even more honestly, she would gladly handle an annoyed Octavia in exchange for muffins. She gave her a thumbs up. 





Vinyl tapped the side of the measuring up against the mixing bowl to get all the baking powder out. Somehow, Muffins had found everything she needed, which was really cool. She hadn't expected it, but she found herself having fun. This whole baking thing wasn't quite as scary as she’d thought. She turned to Muffins and gave her another thumbs up. 

Muffins nodded and turned on the mixer. 

Vinyl watched the beaters spin. 

Actually, that had a nice rhythm. She began bobbing her head, shaking her shoulders along in time.

Muffins giggled and joined in. 

Before long, they were dancing in the kitchen like a couple of dorks. 

And then Muffins quickly reached over and turned the mixer off. “Don't want to overmix it,” she said knowingly. 

Vinyl had no idea why that was wrong or what that would do, but she nodded in agreement anyway. 





Vinyl took a bite and closed her eyes as the hot, fresh muffin flavor danced in her mouth. This was fantastic. Amazing. Glorious. She didn’t think they could get any better and this time they were fresh and warm and honestly she could eat only this for the rest of her life and…

Well, maybe not just muffins. That might get old eventually. But still. Nothing could ruin this moment.

And then Muffin’s alarm went off.

Vinyl’s eyes went wide. Well, that could. Where had the time gone? She whipped out her phone.  
>Sorry we never got to do the soundbooth thing. 

Muffins smiled. “No, it's fine! This was fun. I had fun.” 

Vinyl nodded. She sounded sincere; hopefully she was. She definitely felt like she had come out on top of this whole situation. 

“Besides, I can always come over another time.”

Vinyl nodded again, feeling herself breaking into a little smile. That sounded good to her. 

As she closed the door behind Muffins, she looked at the muffin left on the table. She thought for a moment.





Pinkie held her headphones on just one ear as she bobbed her head to the music. 

“Uh. Uh. Aw, yeah.
You know, it's a piece of cake, to bake a tasty cake, / the kind of tasty cake my own mother used to make.
Gotta start with the flour, I believe in flower power / hope that these discount daisy flowers are the flower of the hour.
Gotta separate the eggs, are they fighting or something? / You're in time out now, eggs, grounded, gotta spend all night in.”

Vinyl smiled as she took a bite of the cookie. This song was nothing but bad baking puns, and she was still cracking up about it. Pinkie had noticed her writing, and, well, one thing had led to another, and now she was recording it (and had come with treats).
Finally, she made it to the last lines. 

I wanted something tasty, but I just ended up sad / because instead of baked goods, all I got were baked bads. 

Pinkie accentuated this last line with a realistic, queasy groan.

Vinyl hunched over as a little shiver ran up her back. She hadn’t asked for that, but it had been perfectly fitting, and definitely in-character for Pinkie. She gave Pinkie a thumbs up through the glass. Nailed it!

Pinkie stepped out. “That was fun!” she said, swishing her skirt as if she wasn't accustomed to standing still, which was probably accurate. "Not bad for a beat based on the sounds of a KitchenMix 350.”

Vinyl cocked her head, looking incredulously at Pinkie. Of course she'd known that, but how had she known that?

Pinkie giggled. “It’s a good mixer! Small, though. Stop by the diner and I’ll show you the sick beats of the Mixatron 3000,” she finished, her voice deepening like she was announcing a professional wrestler. She made an approximation of the noise with her mouth as she rolled her hips in a circle, as if imitating the mixer’s movements.

Vinyl chuckled silently. Pinkie was very excitable. 

Pinkie giggled. “Let me know when you release it! We’ll have a release party.”

Vinyl held her fingers together. Very small party. Being able to just upload songs and have them be available for streaming worldwide made it a bit of a less momentous occasion than it might otherwise have been, and honestly, she didn't feel like that was worth a party. 

Not that she’d decline a cupcake or anything, if Pinkie was offering. 

But it did feel like it was worth sharing with Muffins. As soon as Pinkie disappeared, she pulled out her phone, eager to share. 





Vinyl’s phone lay face up on the table, as she lay face down next to it. She let out a silent groan. Try as she might, she could think of no way to say this without coming across as bragging or self-aggrandizing. 

How did normal people do this? 

She hated talking about herself. She hated that she was pressuring herself for no reason. She hated small talk. She usually let her music do the talking.

She lifted her head slightly. That might work. 

After a little more uncertain attempts, she typed out what she thought was a decent message. She sent the link to the song and added a small explanation.
>Hey, I wrote a song about baking, want to hear it?

She watched the phone for a response, even though she knew full well that she didn’t even know if Muffins had her phone with her, or if she could listen. The screen finally darkened, leaving her looking at her own reflection. She set it down and sighed. Maybe she could see her phone, but couldn’t listen. Maybe she was in a crowded store. Maybe she was at a sporting event. Maybe she-

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly picked it up.

>>🤣
>>Did you write this?

>Pinkie helped. 

>>Lol! Baked bads that's great 💯

Vinyl smiled. 
>Thanks.
>It made me laugh, too. 
>I'm not exactly gifted in the kitchen. 

>>You did fine with me! 😁

>You think so?
>Let's be honest, though. That was all you. 

>>Did Octavia mine? 😬
>>*mind. 
>>I don't think she grabbed a ⛏️

Vinyl laughed silently. 
>Nope! She ate a few. 
>Definitely a fan. 

>>I noticed you never use emojis 🤨

Vinyl shrugged, even though she knew Muffins couldn't see. 
>I learned to type on old school phones, way before emojis were a thing. Just never got in the habit, I guess.

Muffins sent a reply.

Vinyl frowned. 
>Got a box. What was it supposed to be?

>>You haven’t updated your operating system yet? 😬

Vinyl bobbed her head as she responded. 
>The new design turns the call buttons into circles and I like the bars.

>>Bars?
>>Oh wait
>>That was two versions ago? 😳

Vinyl shrugged. 
>I think the bars look better.

>>That’s a log of security holes. What if someone hacks your phone? 🙈

Vinyl snorted. 
>There’s nothing here. 
>Like my daily conversations? Boring.
>What are they going to do, blackmail me over the kinds of tampons I asked Octavia for? 
Vinyl clicked her tongue, cringing as she reread that message. Maybe that was too much. She tried to bring it back.
>Now, if someone stole my notebook, then I'd be concerned. 
>I keep all my lyrics in there. 

>>You write a lot of songs?

>I try. 
>Mostly just whenever something sounds good, I write it down.
>Got a lot of half-baked songs floating around.

>>Well, I thought this one was fully baked. 😁🍰 

Vinyl smiled, feeling oddly relaxed. 
>So, you know anything about leaves?





Vinyl hung upside down off the edge of her bed, typing. Her cheeks hurt a bit from how much smiling she was doing. They’d moved off of lyrics a while ago; now, they were just talking about nothing.

A motion from the side of her eye made her look up. 

Octavia stood in the doorway. She looked at the phone in her hand, the notebook at her side, and she made the connection immediately. She clenched her fists together excitedly, smiling widely. 

Vinyl narrowed her eyes and quickly switched conversations. 
>Not one word.

“Come now, Vinyl,” she urged. ”You’re talking, you’re smiling; I know a first crush when I see it!”

Vinyl got up, walked to the door, and maintained deliberate eye contact with her as she shut it. She went to lay back down. Octavia didn’t need to make things weird. 

She could do just fine at that herself.
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Muffins pushed open the door to the gym. “Vinyl!” she called, looking around. Her voice echoed in the empty, cavernous room. She slowly walked in, spinning around to check the whole gym, and tripped on her boot heel but quickly caught herself. “Vinyl?” she tried again. The message had said to meet her here, right?

A flashing light caught her attention from up high. Vinyl had turned on the flashlight on her phone and was rocking it in the air, signaling her with it from her position high on the tower. 

Muffins giggled and headed over. The stage had been decorated with renaissance-style buildings. She looked up and shielded her eyes with her hand. “So, what are you doing up there?” she asked, digging into her pocket for her phone in preparation for Vinyl’s reply. As it cleared the fabric, it slipped from her fingers and hit the ground, but she retrieved it and read the message. 

>Setting up mics. I’m defending sound person for any plays.
>*De facto
>But I would fight someone over my equipment. Just saying. 
Vinyl threw a few playful punches for emphasis. 

Muffins giggled. “Oh. So why did you need my help with that? I don't…” Muffins’ voice trailed off. “Oh, yeah,” she said with a little nervous giggle. “‘Cause you… you can’t talk, so you can’t test them.” She looked up sheepishly. “I forgot.”

Vinyl shrugged easily, but internally, she was beaming. Muffins hadn’t even considered her muteness until prompted. That did feel pretty good. She gestured with her head, inviting her to come up on stage. 

Muffins did, putting both hands on the stage and swinging her legs up, flipping her skirt a tiny bit. She rolled onto the stage and stood up, and Vinyl cracked a smile, but tried to hide it. Something about her just being here was-

“What are you doing?!”

Vinyl jumped. The drama teacher Mrs. Sterling Silver strode up, hands curled into fists by her sides, as if summoned from another dimension by the presence of someone other than her actors on her stage. Vinyl grimaced. Mrs. Sterling was famously protective of everything about her plays. Her actors, her sets, her schedule, and heaven forbid you even think about touching her props. The famous Shouting Match of ‘05 between her and Mr. Doodle was still whispered about today. Vinyl waved, hoping to keep her attention on her. 

“Vinyl,” she said curtly. She looked at Muffins. “And someone I haven’t yet met.”

“Oh, I’m Muffins,” Muffins said blithely, seemingly unaware of Sterling’s fiery reputation. “I’m her tester.”

“Ah,” she said, not sounding completely convinced. She took a slight step back. “Well, don’t stop on account of me.”

Vinyl bit her lower lip. She didn't like this, and she wasn't sure how Muffins would perform under pressure. 

But Muffins nodded and climbed up the steps to the tower. 

And then she tripped over the top one and fell on her face.

Vinyl winced, and she glanced over and saw Mrs. Sterling’s mouth tighten, likely more out of concern for her set than anything else. She quickly leaned over to help Muffins up. 

Muffins smiled in thanks, then stood at the edge of the balcony and started.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

Vinyl blinked. She had not expected that.

But Muffins wasn’t done. “'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;” she continued, pacing. 
“Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague?” she scoffed. “It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!”

Silver nodded, relaxing slightly. “I’ll want Juliet more stage right,” she told Vinyl. 

Vinyl suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be placing the microphones. She made a slight adjustment to the angle as requested and gave her a thumbs up.

“As you were.”

As soon as the door shut behind her, Vinyl pulled out her phone. 
>Didn’t expect that!

Muffins shrugged, but her cheeks tinged pink. 

Vinyl wasn't going to let her go that easily. 
>You just always have that on tap?

“Well, I just…” Muffins smiled sadly. “It’s one of my favorite plays because everything that can go wrong, does. It was the perfect storm of coincidences. They had such a chance at happiness, and just… accidents happened.” She shook her head.

Vinyl instinctively reached out and touched Muffins’ hand. She almost retracted it immediately, but decided that she had done it and so she would stick with it.

Muffins looked down, her brow furrowing in confusion. She looked up at Vinyl, and opened her mouth…

And then the bell rang, sounding almost excruciatingly loud from their raised position in the empty gymnasium. Both girls jumped, and Vinyl instinctively retracted her hand. 

Muffins winced. “I have class,” she said.

Vinyl nodded. She did, too.

They looked at each other for a moment longer.

“I should…” Muffins said, with… regret?

Vinyl nodded, gesturing over her shoulder to indicate that she, too, should be heading back to work. 

She watched Muffins climb down the steps, slide off the stage, and walk out of the gym. When the doors shut behind her, she put her hands on her hips and glowered.

Well, shoot.
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl lay on her bed, her legs hanging over the side and kicking idly in the air, looking up at the ceiling. This wasn't how she’d expected to spend her Thursday night. She had argued with herself for a while now, but she was just going in circles and she knew it. There was just no way around it.

She had a crush on Muffins. 

Great. 

Really. 

She’d named it, so she had power over it or something like that, right?

But now what? 

She’d have to tell her, of course. Right? Because if she didn’t, she’d just be, like, pining away, due to fear. Like an aspen tree shaking, but when there wasn't even any wind. 

Ooh, that’d be good lyrics. She rolled over, scribbled that down on her notepad, then rolled back to her back.

Could this go to a relationship? It could, right?

Assuming Muffins liked girls, anyway. 

Her expression dropped. She sat up and grabbed at her hair as this horrifying thought occurred to her. What if Muffins didn’t like girls? What if she was straight? What if she just saw this as being friendly? 

It’s not like there wasn’t precedent. Pinkie Pie was plenty affectionate with all her friends, and Vinyl had more than once been on the receiving end of an enthusiastic hug that had involved her face mashed into Pinkie’s breasts, but Pinkie was straight. She had no boundaries and had no concept of personal space, but she was straight. 

How could she even ask?

Hey, Muffins. On a scale of 1-10, how likely would you be to date a girl?

Should she write her a song? She couldn't sing it. And she couldn’t have Muffins sing it, because nobody sang their own love song, right? 

She kicked her legs up to rotate and wrote that down on the notepad, too, before laying back down. 

Well, one thing was certain: if she didn’t do anything, nothing would happen. She pulled her phone from her pocket and then stopped.

She didn't really want to do that over text.

Well, if she wasn't going to do it over text, then she'd have to do it in person, and to do that, they'd have to be in the same place (which meant, yes, a text). Steeling herself, she sent a message.
>Hey, want to come over on Saturday afternoon?

The response came quickly.

>>😭I have to watch my sister.

>No problem! You can bring her, too. 

>>Really?

>Definitely. 

>>Awesome! We’ll be there. 😁😁
>>There are two 😁 because there will be two of us.
>>Two of us coming, I mean. Three with you. 
>>Four if Octavia will be there. 
>>😁😁😁😁

>Haha! 
>No worries. I understood. 
>See you Saturday!
Vinyl let her phone fall out of her hand as her smile tightened on her face. 

What had she done?





>Octavia, what do you do with a kid?

Octavia squinted at her watch, then gave Vinyl (who was leaning on the doorframe, looking expectantly at her) a sideways look. “In what context?” she asked apprehensively. “I didn't think you were taking home economics.”

Vinyl let her shoulders sag, as if relieved at that thought. 
>No, thankfully. 
>Invited Muffins over on Saturday, she has to watch her sister, I said she could come too.
>Realized I have no idea how to handle that. 
>I don't think she's into the whole quiet thing. 
>And I'm not about to give a tour of my studio. 

“Hmm,” Octavia mused, tapping her chin. “I can understand a desire to make sure any third wheel is occupied on your date.”

Vinyl gave her a flat look, though she hoped she hadn’t tipped her hand. The last thing she needed was Cheerleader!Octavia interfering. 
>Not a date. 

Octavia smirked. “Regardless, I’m sure we can find something that you’ll all enjoy doing.”

>Like what? 
>It’d be a really small dance party with just us four.
>And I'm out of cash so no going out for food. 

Octavia chuckled. “Well, perhaps something more at home?”

Vinyl chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. She’d think of something.





Well, hopefully, anyway. It was currently lunchtime on Friday, and she was still drawing a blank. She tapped her fork against the bowl. She had already floated the idea of a cooking class, but Octavia had gently but firmly declined. It seemed that she had forgiven Muffins’ incursion into her kitchen, but just that once. Either that or she didn’t want two inexperienced bakers in her kitchen.

And speaking of bakers, she saw Muffins approaching. She smiled, hoping it didn’t look too forced.

“Hi, Vinyl! I’m excited for Saturday!”

Vinyl pulled her phone out. 
>Me too!

“Should I bring anything?”

>Well, I wouldn’t say no to a muffin.
She gave Muffins a cheeky smile.
>But no. Just be there.

Muffins gave her a thumbs up. “You got it!”

Vinyl waited until she had left the cafeteria, and then put her head down. She was doomed.

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up.

Microchips stood there, giving her an askance look. “You ok? You don’t look so good.”

Vinyl sighed and switched to the Notes app on her phone. 
>I have to figure out a good activity for me, Muffins, and her younger sister tomorrow, and I have no idea what to do.
She held it out so he could read it.

“Oh, uh… hey, how about a movie?” he suggested. “There’s a new one that just came out, with the technicolor bears? It’s got decent reviews.”

Vinyl nodded, warming to that idea. 
>Something like that could work. 

Microchips smirked knowingly. “Leave it to me.” He walked away confidently. 

Vinyl watched him go. Well, at least he looked like he knew what he was doing. 





Later that day, back in study hall, Vinyl sat at a table, working on her homework. She sat up after getting another problem wrong and kneaded her eyes with the heels of her palms. I would literally rather be doing anything else right now. 

As if on cue, a wadded-up piece of paper bounced off her shoulder and landed on the table in front of her. Curious, she looked to where it had come from.  

Microchips was gesturing her over. 

This was odd, sure; but whatever he was up to, it was better than doing homework. She stood up and walked over.

He looked around and held out a disc. “You didn't get this from me. Destroy it when you're done, snap it in half, stick it in the microwave, down the garbage disposal, doesn't matter. If you get caught, I'll deny I ever knew you.”

Vinyl blinked. She took the offered disc with all the enthusiasm of a person being handed a sharp kitchen knife by the blade. 

Microchips saluted and then tried to take a step back to fade into the shadows.

This attempt at drama failed when he bumped into a trash can, making a thumping noise and nearly losing his balance. 

Vinyl blinked. 

He quickly recovered and walked slowly backwards, only to realize that he hadn't been any more successful this time, either. “You can still see me, huh?”

Vinyl nodded, but she decided to leave him his dignity and head back to her seat. She glanced around and looked at the disc. It looked like a typical burned disc to her. 

Heh. How funny would it be if he’d gotten her a copy of that new movie?





Vinyl quickly turned the tv off. He’d gotten her a copy of that new movie. She looked blankly forward, trying to process this. Her first question was ‘how’, but another, more pressing question, was ‘was she going to get in trouble for this?’. Were the cops going to bang on her door? She couldn’t handle prison! 

But seriously, how did he get this? No one else would have this.

Wait.

No one else would have this…

A little smile spread on her face. Talk about standing out from the crowd! Definitely impressive. That sounded like a win to her.





Vinyl wandered into the kitchen, smelling the hot, salty smell of fresh popcorn. When Octavia had offered to make popcorn for their movie night tonight, Vinyl hadn't thought much of it; honestly, she had assumed she would just throw a bag in the microwave. 

But Octavia had pulled out a bag of white kernels and a pot and cheesecloth (which didn't look anything like cheese to Vinyl). She would have thought this overkill, but she quickly erased that message as soon as she took one bite, and then another. 
>This is delicious.

“Don’t eat all the popcorn before the movie even starts, Vinyl,” Octavia chided playfully. 

Vinyl stuck her tongue out at her and purposefully grabbed another handful. 
>Seriously. This stuff is like ambrosia. 

“It’s just clarified butter and salt,” she said modestly, but she had a proud little smile on her face. 

Vinyl glanced over at the butter, which looked very yellow and opaque to her. It didn't look very clear to her. Maybe she wasn't quite as skilled in the kitchen as she would have hoped. She went to reach for another handful, but Octavia poked her hand away with her spoon.

As Vinyl (playfully) narrowed her eyes, there came a knock at the door. 

“Ah, just on time,” Octavia said. 

Vinyl quickly opened the door. 

There stood Muffins, who waved excitedly. Next to her stood her sister, looking a little younger than freshman-aged, looking uncertain about all of this, but she (with slight hesitation) also waved. 

Vinyl stepped back and gestured them in.

“Ooh. Smells good,” Muffins said. 

Vinyl gestured proudly towards the large bowl of popcorn with both hands. Tastes good, too!

Octavia agreed. “Eat up! I can always make more,” she said. 

Vinyl looked askance at her. She hadn’t told her that. 

But Octavia’s face was the picture of innocence, and by then, Muffins was already eating.

She made eye contact with Dinky and gave her a little wave. Somehow, instinctively, she knew she had to impress her younger sister if she wanted to get anywhere with Muffins. 

Dinky returned it, looking a little uncomfortable, and grabbed a handful of popcorn herself. Her eyes widened, and she relaxed slightly. 

“So, ready for tonight’s movie?” Octavia asked.

Muffins nodded. “Thanks again.”

Vinyl texted her answer instinctively.
>Of course!

Dinky looked at Vinyl. “Do you only text?” she asked.

Muffins hit her gently on the shoulder.

Vinyl reached up to her neck, but remembering the last few times she’d done this, changed it into a scratching motion and looked away. Traumatizing her sister would not be a good look.

Muffins leaned over and whispered into Dinky’s ear.

Dinky’s eyes widened. Horrified, but clearly trying to maintain control, she swallowed once and muttered, “That’s a good reason.”

Sensing the impending awkwardness, Vinyl clapped and pointed to the living room.

Seemingly grateful for the diversion, Muffins walked in front. “What did you want to watch?” she asked.

Vinyl turned on the tv and waggled her eyebrow.

Dinky gasped as she recognized the colorful characters. 

Muffins’ eyes widened, too. “How’d you get this?”

Vinyl shrugged and put on a cocky smile, hoping she looked intriguingly mysterious. 

Dinky nodded, excited for this. Then she gave her a narrow look, as if she were suspicious about her.

Hm. Task failed successfully? She didn’t know why Dinky’s presence made her feel so awkward. She started the video and sat down on the couch. She looked over at Muffins, and she licked her lips. She wanted to say something. 

And then Dinky deliberately sat between them, keeping them apart.

Vinyl’s brow furrowed. Why would she sit between them?

It took a few minutes before it occurred to her. Maybe she wanted them to not do couple stuff.

But she didn’t know Dinky. She’d never seen Dinky before.

So if Dinky thought they were a couple, it’s because Muffins told her.

Which meant that Muffins thought they were a couple!

…or did she?

But before she could spiral further, she heard the music from the soundtrack, and found herself drawn into the movie.

And then she was waving goodbye to the two girls, still on a high from the movie, her head full of new lyrics and music ideas and new motifs and…

And…

And they were gone. 

She hit her fist against her thigh. Too late. She shut the door. 

Octavia smiled. “That went well,” she said leadingly. 

Vinyl gave her a half-hearted thumbs up and headed back to her room. It had been fun, sure; but she wasn't sure how successful she'd been tonight.
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a low, sustained groan, Vinyl stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at herself in her mirror. 

A very tired girl looked back at her. Eyes looking slightly bloodshot, slight bags under her eyes, wrinkled pajamas, water trailing down her face. 

She hated not knowing. She hated this uncertainty. She had to ask. She had to make it official or drop it entirely. 

So today would be the day. She would go and ask Muffins out, and if she crashed and burned, then she’d burn.

There were lyrics there, she was certain, but she just wasn’t feeling it.





Back at home after school, Octavia typed a few more words on the computer, finishing one last English essay. She glowered at the word counter in the corner and muttered a word that typically could not be heard on her home tv stations prior to 9 pm.

Vinyl came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

She looked over. “Vinyl, what-?” 

Vinyl held out a piece of paper.

Octavia glanced at it, recognizing the writing style. “A new song?” she asked.

Vinyl nodded.

Octavia stood up. “Right. I’m in.”





“No, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm just being nice.
No, I'm not your girlfriend, but I'll still give you some advice. 
Don’t be so immature, don’t be so f-

Vinyl cracked a smile. She would never admit it to her, but she got a bit of a kick out of hearing Octavia swear. The first time she had met her, she was convinced that they were just too different, that she was so uptight that they would never be friends. 

-crass, 
I don’t exist just for your pleasure,
Get your head out of your-

Vinyl smiled as she watched Octavia giving it her all. The top button of shirt had come unbuttoned from the force of her movements, her eyes were closed, her fists were clenched, her whole body was getting into it as she sang mightily.

Before long, the song ended. Octavia primly rebuttoned her shirt, took a drink of water from her water bottle, stepped outside, and put her hands on her hips.

Vinyl smiled disarmingly. 

Octavia narrowed her eyes. “Vinyl,” she said, a hint of reproach in her voice, “did you spend today writing a song expressing all your doubts and fears of what Muffins might say instead of, oh, I don't know, asking her?”

Vinyl wilted, letting her head fall back. Right in one, but she didn’t have to say that. 

“Don’t tell me: you avoided her all day, too?”

Vinyl groaned. Sometimes she wished she could talk, because Octavia could see right through her sometimes.

“Vinyl, I am rooting for you and Muffins, truly, I am; but really.”

Vinyl gave her a look. If she knew she was avoiding her, why did she sing her song?

“Oh, well, this is going to be a hit,” she said with a little shrug. “Anyone could see that.”

Vinyl forced a smile, appreciating the compliment, but knowing that she was just putting it off.

Octavia wiped a bit of sweat off her brow. “While I would like nothing better than to push you again, I know that that will not be helpful.” She gently pushed her way past Vinyl.

>Where are you going?
Vinyl wondered.

“To scream into my pillow. Don’t wait up.”





The next day, Vinyl strode purposefully through the halls. She was ready. She was blasting heavy rock music through her headphones, and she was wearing heavy boots and brand-new panties. Nothing could stop her. She was ready for anything.

She made her way to the science hallway again, where she’d seen Muffins for that first time. She caught sight of her blonde hair and she made a beeline for in front of her. She tried to stop her by darting in front of her and blocking her way by putting her hand against the locker.

But when she realized she had heard the impact through the music, and felt the stinging on her hand, she realized she had done it a little too hard. Not a great start.

Muffins jumped in surprise, then looked at her, a little smile on her face, but it was tempered with confusion. 

Vinyl nodded. 

They stood like that for a moment. Vinyl was really hoping inspiration would strike, but that cat of inspiration was asleep at the wheel (or more likely, showing the wheel its raised tail). 

So she leaned forward, kissed Muffins on the mouth, and then turned and ran.

She was starting to wish she hadn’t worn these boots. They made running like a coward very difficult. 

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

She ran until she was fairly certain she was out of sight, ran into a bathroom, and darted into a stall and sat down, burying her face in her hands. 

Well, that was it. She was staying here for the rest of the day.





At the end of the day, Vinyl waited out front for Octavia, seated slumped against the wall. She shuffled idly through her phone, her headphones resting on top of her head. She wasn’t sure what song she even wanted to hear right now, so she wasn’t listening to anything.

This made it possible for her to hear boots approaching. 

“Hey.”

Her eyes widened as she recognized Muffins’ voice. She looked up, apprehensive. 

Muffins smiled. “You never let me answer,” she said.

Vinyl wasn’t sure what to think, but that did sound vaguely promising. A faint, uncertain smile touched her face.

Muffins knelt down, and Vinyl had just enough time to realize that she was straddling her before Muffins pressed her lips against hers.

Vinyl Scratch prided herself on her ability with words. While she may not have been able to speak them, she could weave them into what she wanted to say, and make music so much more than it could have been on its own.

But she had no words to describe how she was feeling then. She wasn’t even sure she still spoke English.

Muffins pulled back, breaking the kiss, and Vinyl realized that she had not been breathing that whole time. She gasped, suddenly aware of the burning in her chest that might not have only been because of oxygen deprivation.

Muffins giggled and looked down, pink tinging her cheeks. “So, girlfriends?” she asked hopefully.

Vinyl nodded weakly. Her eyes were probably as unfocused as hers right now, but she didn’t care.

Muffins smiled, and Vinyl was relieved to see that it looked genuine. She placed her hand on Vinyl’s thigh, ostensibly to push herself up, but she gave it a gentle squeeze before she did. She waved as she walked away.

Vinyl watched her go, her fingers gently brushing her lips.

Muffins’ tongue had been in her mouth. 

A little smile spread across her face. It was a very, very good day.