The Life and Times of a Travelling Band Ch4

	Reaching the apartment complex took a little longer than Octavia had expected. It was much further on the other side of town that she had believed prior. It was also on what Octavia considered to be the bad side of town.

	As they finally reached the correct street, Octavia piped up, hoping to elicit some sort of response out of her friend. "So, how'd you manage to get to that bar to go to work every night if you lived all the way on this side of town?" Glancing up from the sidewalk, Vinyl regarded Octavia anxiously, ready to get inside her ex-apartment. "It's just," Octavia continued. "It usually takes me a long while to make it to a concert. How'd you manage to get there in time for work?"

	Opening the door to the complex for Octavia, she spoke up. "Well, for starters, you have to carry a heavy instrument. Plus, I like to get out and jog around the city at night. Keeps me in shape. I'd usually wake up as the sun was setting and jog my way to work. Even on my off nights I'd find myself jogging around, headphones in," Vinyl recalled. Octavia caught a smile that lingered with nostalgia.

	"Well, you can always take a jog, even without the job. My apartment complex is safer anyway. I might even join you one night, I could use the exercise."

	Vinyl grinned at Octavia. "You know, I'd take offense to the whole 'safer' thing, if only it weren't true. This place isn't the best side of town, but it had its benefits," she replied.

	Looking to her left, Vinyl equipped her key and quickly turned it in the lock. The door didn't budge.

	"Damnit! He's already changed the damn lock. I'll have to go talk to him," Vinyl cursed.

	Stepping down the stairs, the two mares made their way to the lobby and found the landlord in his office, on the phone with someone.

	"Wait here," Vinyl said, stepping through the door to the windowed office.

	"I'm here for my shit," Vinyl began, cutting the fat pony off.

	"'ll call ya back," He said to the phone, before hanging it on the receiver. "Well, that's just too bad, cause I just made maself a fortune selling all of your 'shit' to a..." He paused, looking back at the name on his clipboard. "A pony that goes by the name o-"

	"I don't give a damn what his name is, I want my equipment. I left it here last night and I told you I'd be back for it!"

	"Listen here, little missy, I don't take kindly to yelling in my offi-"

	The fat pony would have very much liked to have finished his telling off of Vinyl, but, unfortunately, a hoof rapidly connected with his jaw. It was a hoof that, the fat pony very much suspected, belonged to the same Vinyl. Also unfortunately for him, the momentum of the swing interrupted whatever further suspicions he may have made by causing him and his strained chair to instantaneously hit the floor.

	Contrary to what most may believe, there was no transition. In one moment, he was sitting upright, and the next he was on the floor. He was also, at that moment, very suspicious of Vinyl.