Swan Song - Octavia x Anon - Part 1

>You were fascinated with that pony ever since you saw her perform in Ponyville a few months ago.
>Her elegance during her performance was unlike anything you had seen before.
>You always had an affinity for classical music.
>But the way she performed sparked a newfound interest in the craft.
>And it went beyond her fine playing abilities.
>It showed at an outward level.
>Her eyes, a beautiful shade of purple, suggested refinement and gentleness.
>Her lovely, black mane was clean and straight, and astonishingly radiant.

>You wanted to get to know her better.
>But she was of a higher social class.
>At least... that's how you felt.
>She had an air about her....
>It wasn't arrogance, or any sort of haughtiness.
>You had a feeling it was something else.
>As if she put up a wall to protect herself.
>You were lucky enough to introduce yourself to her before her last performance in Ponyville.

>Though her reaction was less than pleasant:
>"I'm sorry, I'm a bit busy getting ready for a performance. Do you mind?"

>You did mind.

>You expressed to her that you were a fan of her playing.
>She scoffed at you, hiding her face behind what seemed like a blush.
>She continued to tune her cello, still hiding her face.
>"I-I... well, thank you, kind sir."
>Upon tuning the A string, she let out a sigh of relief.
>"Good. All good. I'm sorry, you said your name was... Anon?"
>You nodded, giving her a warm smile.
>She returns the smile as well, before hiding her face.
>"W-well... I-I... should go on now. It was quite nice to meet you, Anon."
>You wished her luck.

>You were saddened that she was to leave.
>Though happy that you were going to be able to hear her play once more.
>You probably were to never see her again, anyways.

>Before Octavia leaves, she turns to face you.
>Her eyes at the ground and her cheeks rosy, she whispers to you:
>"Maybe... we can talk more... after my performance?"

>And you did just that.

>Octavia's performance was even better that night, you would say.
>Multiple times you found her eyes meeting yours.
>And she would close them instantly, resuming focus on her playing.
>Her cheeks remained rosy for most of the performance.
>She was woking to keep her eyes shut.

>Afterwards, you meet Octavia in the same place you introduced yourself to her.
>She was in the process of putting her instrument away.
>She gives you a small smile as you approach her.
>You congratulate her on a job well done, smiling warmly.
>She hides her face again.
>"Thank you very much, Anon. I thought the performance was... acceptable."
>You give her a confused look.
"Acceptable? It was definitely great!"

>She shuts the cello case gently.
>Her face still hidden behind her mane, she gives out a sigh.
>"I was... having a hard time focusing tonight."
>She puts her cello on a trolley.
>"I'm not quite sure why."

>Octavia's eyes kept catching yours during the performance.
>Her lack of focus was probably your fault.
>You walk over and help her fix the cello onto the trolley.
>"You are quite the... gentlecolt."
>You laugh.
"Gentleman."

>A tired pony comes by to take the trolley and it's contents to storage.
>She gives you a weak nod before attaching the trolley to herself.
>You give the pony a tip for her hard work.
>"Wow... thanks, sir!"
>She trots off happily with the trolley in tow.
>Octavia gives you a slightly bigger smile.
>"Wow. You really ARE a gentle... man."
>You shake your head.
"I just wanted to be nice. She looked like she was working hard."
>She brushes her hoof against you.
>"Nonsense! You are quite...."
>She doesn't finish.
>Instead, her face is hidden behind her mane again.

>Octavia yawns, and rubs her eyes.
>"I should... h-head back to my hotel for the night."
"How about I walk you home?"
>Octavia laughs nervously, loosening her pink bow tie.
>"I couldn't ask you to do that...."
"I insist."
>Her cheeks redden.
>"Such a gentleman..."

>The walk back to her hotel was relaxing.
>Octavia spoke a lot about her career as a cellist, with you listening intently.
>"I feel like I'm speaking a lot... I'm sorry to make you have to listen to me so much."

>You smile at her.
"I like hearing you talk... it's quite interesting, really."
>She bumps you with her hoof.
>"Oh, you're just saying that, Anon!"
>You shake your head.
"Not at all. Please, continue."
>Octavia's cheeks redden again.
>"... truly?"
"Truly."

>Octavia walks closer to you as you approach the hotel.
>"It's been a long time since I was able to talk with one who cares about what I have to say."
>You shrug at her.
"I really enjoyed it. You are an interesting pony, and a fantastic musician."
>"Oh... stop it, Anon!"
>She gets closer to you.
"I'm really glad that I got to share this time with you."
>"Y-yes... I would have to agree with you, Anon."
>She gets a bit closer to you.
>The hotel is within sight.

"I hope that we can spend more time together sometime in the future."
>You put your hands into your pockets.
"Next time you're in Ponyville... let me know."
>Octavia smiles at you.
>Her rosy cheeks redder than ever.
>"I definitely will... I could never pass up another opportunity to spend time with such a...."
>Her coat brushes against you.
>She jumps back, apologizing.
>You assure her that everything is alright, laughing nervously.
>She turns her face away.
>"I... should go up now."

>You kneel down next to her.
"Ok. Don't forget what I said. I'll be here waiting for you, Ms. Melody."
>She smiles at you.
>"You... are such a gentleman, Anon."
>She gets close to you.
>"You really are."

>She gives your face a gentle nuzzle.
>You feel yourself blushing.
>Her soft, warm fur feels amazing against your face.
>"H-have a good night, Anon."
"You as well, Octavia."

>She leans in and pecks your cheek before turning and heading into the hotel.
>You will definitely see her again.
>Sooner than you think, you are sure.

~

>That kiss she planted on your cheek left you yearning for more.
>You felt as if you would see her again soon.
>And everything would be grand.
>You'd have the opportunity to get to know the real her.

>That was months ago.
>And you haven't seen or heard from Octavia since that night.

>You returned to that hotel the following morning to see if she was there, to no avail.
>She had apparently checked out earlier in the morning to catch a train to Manehattan.
>Octavia was a hot commodity, and she was in high demand to give performances all over Equestria.
>So you understood that she would be quite busy.
>But you didn't think she would leave without so much as a goodbye.

>Fast forward to today.
>You had a day off, and decided to put it to good use.
>After hours of work, your small cottage was clean.
>No more letting Pinkie throw parties here.
>You plop down on the couch and sigh deeply.
>You shut your eyes and breath in and out slowly.

"Relaxation...."

>Before you get too relaxed, you hear a knock on your door.
>You groan and force yourself up.
"Coming...."
>Who would be so rude as to disturb your relaxing Anon time?
>You open the door, expecting it to be Pinkie or Lyra or....
>But it wasn't.
>Instead, a gray mare stares back at you, giving you a wide smile.

"What a... pleasant surprise?"
>The gray mare's smile widens.
>Her yellow eyes slightly skewed, she moves her attention to her mail bag.
>"I got a delivery for you, Anon!"
>She digs through her bag, searching for this mysterious letter.
"Oh... I wasn't expecting any mail!"
>Derpy hands you a small, purple envelope.
>"Here you go. A nice surprise is good for everyone, Anon!"
"You're right, Derpy. Thanks a lot...."
>She gives you a smile and a wave.

>You close the door and examine your letter.
>It's addressed to you, though there is no return address.
>Odd...
>The letter is quite nice.
>Why are you still examining it?
>You carefully open the envelope and pull out a folded piece of high-quality parchment.
>A ticket falls out of the letter as you open it.
>You pick it up and begin to read the letter:

Dear Anonymous,

I will begin by saying that I deeply apologize for not contacting you these past few months.
It was not my intention to do so. I became quickly overwhelmed with the number of performances I had,
and I had to ensure that I could clear my mind before I continued to talk to you, or introduce you into
my life more.

I hope that you are still interested in getting to know me, as I am with you. I... I would understand if you did
not want to pursue contact with me. It would hurt me greatly, but it is something that I would
deserve for not talking to you, Anon.

I live in Manehattan now, and have included a train ticket for you. If you could come and visit me this upcoming
weeked, well... I would be thrilled to say the least. I don't know if you have enough free time to stay a few days
here, but we could work something out. If you decide to come, I will wait in Central Park within the hours of
2p.m. and 4p.m..

I hope that I will see you soon, Anon. I am excited to see my gentleman again (I remembered!).

- Octavia Melody

>You pocket the letter and rush to your room to begin packing your bags.

~

>The trip to Manehattan was somewhat pleasant.
>It was only a few hours, tops.
>Though you would have preferred to not have to sit next to the Cakes and their crying children.
>You were lucky to not have any established work going on Ponyville either.
>Odd jobs gave you more than enough to live comfortably, and not above your means.
>You were sure to let a few ponies know, just to be safe.
>You arrive at the Manehattan train station around noon.
>With one bag of luggage in tow and a small backpack, you exit the station.

>You are immediately overwhelmed with the scope of the city.
>Buildings everywhere, streets of asphalt, and sidewalks of cement
>An immense number of skyscrapers scrape... well... the sky.
>It wasn't like you never experienced the city life back home.
>But you were so accustomed to the laid-back lifestyle of Ponyville by now.
>The fact that ponies could create a city like this...?
>Glorious.

>You pull out a map that you just picked up.
>Central Park looked like it was a good thirty minutes away via... cab?
>You look and see gruff ponies pulling yellow and black carriages at varying intervals.
>Word.
>Walking... would take you maybe an hour and a half.
>Hmm....
>You weren't opposed to paying for a ride.
>Though you needed to save your funds for a hotel room and food.
>You had until 4p.m. to meet Octavia in the park.

>Your stomach growls.
>You just can't think on an empty stomach.
>You walk over to a food cart, hoping to grab a quick snack.
>The pony at the cart gives you an extremely judgmental look.
"Hello. Could I have a-"
>"We're all out."
>You stare at the pony.
"Excuse me?"
>"I said we're closed!"
>The pony slams the cart door.
>You raise your hand to bang on the door but stop yourself as you see two cop ponies walk bye, eyeing you intently.
>Cool down, Anon.
>This city don't play.

>You decide to skip the food and instead flip a coin to decide for you.
>You pull out a shiny bit.
>You give it a flip in the air.

>Why the heck did you decide to walk?
>You're tired.
>Your feet hurt.
>You are cold.
>You are hot.
>You are thirsty.
>You are hungry.
>It goes on....

>You arrive to the final few blocks before Central Park.
>At least, according to your map.
>You need to check the time, and get a quick bite for sure.
>You stop into the first deli you see.
>You can't be picky, though you're hoping you won't be given rotten service again.
>A chubby orange filly awaits you behind the register.
>Behind her, a clock reading 3:21p.m..

>"What's goin' on, mister? Welcome to this here fine establishment. Can I getchu you a drink or somethin'?"
>At least she's nice.

>You scan the menu, ordering the first thing that sounds good.
"Yeah, I'll have a... water and a bagel, please."
>She gives you a confused look.
>"That'll be... eh... hmm... let's just make it three bits, huh?"
"Uh, sure?"
>The filly nods and gets your order ready.

>Ignoring the fact that she didn't know the prices, you fiddle through your bag for your bits.
>Though you are tired, you definitely saved money not taking a cab.
>Good call.
>You pull out the correct change and wait for the orange, bacon-maned filly to put a fresh bagel into a bag for you.
>The door bell chimes.
>You see two older ponies enter the deli.
>They stand behind you in line.
>You don't like eavesdropping, but you can't help but overhear them:

>"That poor dear. She plays in that park every afternoon."
>"Yes, yes. She is quite talented."
>"It's a shame that she doesn't ever get a lot of bits for how well she plays."
>"Mhmm. I'm always sure to give her a few when I can, but..."

>You are brought back into reality by the cash register ringing.
>"Here ya go, sir. A fresh bagel and a cold watah bottle."
>You complacently hand her the bits.
>Were those ponies talking about....
>"Nuttin' like a cold water on a cold fall day, huh?"
>You nod, still not quite listening to the filly.
"Yeah... thanks."
>"Havah good day, den."
>You quickly leave the deli.

>You gobble up the bagel and chug the water as you walk briskly towards Central Park.

>Those old ponies in the deli surely weren't talking about Octavia?
>Everything they said made sense.
>Except for her not making enough bits.
>You could understand if some ponies were stingy but...
>Octavia is a world-class cellist.
>She's played in famous venues all around Equestria.
>If she indeed the one playing in the park, well....
>Who's to say it isn't for fun?

>After a few near-trips and collisions with oncoming ponies, you arrive at the wrought iron gates to Central Park.
>And another glorious sight it is, with a seemingly endless number of trees scattered all over, their orange and brown leaves signaling the presence of fall.
>Upon entering the park, you hear the faint sound of what seems like a cello!
>But where? You don't recall the letter mentioning where exactly she would meet you.
>You pull out Octavia's letter again.
>Nothing....
>Two ponies trot towards you, in the middle of what seems like a healthy jog.
>You wave at them.
"Hey! Excuse me! Do you all know where the pony playing cello is?"
>You charade the bowing of a cello, in case they can't hear you.
>One of the ponies throws his head backwards.
>"Back...huff huff... there... huff...."
>You give them a thanks as they trot past you.

>You increase the speed of your brisk walk as you take the main path down the center of Central Park.
>The sounds of the cello ring more loudly the nearer you get.
>Your heart is racing!
>It is exciting to be able to see someone you thought was lost forever.
>Especially someone you are so fond of.
>You begin to make out the gentle melodies of one of Octavia's own compositions.
>You feel yourself getting fatigued, though.
>Easy there, Anon.
>Almost there.

>You faintly make out a gray mare and cello in the distance.
>The sound of her cello stops.
>You see her look around expectantly.
>You try and wave at her, but she doesn't see you.
>She begins to put her cello away.

"Done playing already?"
>"Unfortunately, yes. I must return home and-"
>Octavia turns her head slowly to you.
>Upon seeing you her jaw drops and her eyes open wide.
>"A-Anon! You're... y-you're here!"
>You nod and kneel down to her level, giving her a smile.
"Did you think I would pass up an opportunity to see you?"
>She gives you an affectionate hug.
You hug her back, your heart continuing to race.
>You feel her own heart beating at a faster rate than yours.

>"I don't know what to say! I'm just so... wow. I cannot believe you actually came!"
>You feel her hug getting tighter.
>You pat her on the back.
"I wouldn't even consider any other alternative."
>You break the hug and stand back up.
"Besides, a little vacation is nice now and then."
>Octavia smiles at you.
>You immediately notice that she appears... different.
>She has bags under her eyes, her mane is a bit less maintained than usual, and she seems to be a bit thinner than you remember.
>You start to wonder if she was always like that....

>"Let me finish putting this away, and then we can... well, we are certainly overdue for some catching up, are we not?"
>You nod as she trots over the her instrument.
>Octavia closes and locks her cello case.
>Her smile clashes with her appearance.
>She doesn't appear to be entirely well....
>Maybe she had a long night of rehearsals?
>Perhaps she is just tired?

"Shall we head back to your place?"
>Octavia scratches her mane.
>Well... maybe we can go elsewhere first? My place is nothing special."
>You shrug.
"Maybe. Don't you want to take your cello back first?"
>She puts the case on her back, avoiding your eyes.
>"I suppose that would make the most sense now, wouldn't it?"
>Her eyes still don't meet yours.
>She is acting a bit strange.
>Poor dear must be nervous!
>You walk up to her.
"So to your place then? Maybe we can get dinner afterwards?"
>She sighs.
>"It's not too far from here. It's just through the rear of the park."

>After a quick walk, you arrive at a peculiar set of run-down apartments.
>Octavia sighs as she walks up the stoop to a particularly beat up one.
>"Here we are...."
>You follow her up the stairs.
>She opens the door and heads inside with you in her wake.
>You close the door behind you and look around her abode.
>"Home sweet home...."

>You put your luggage to the side and remove your bag as you look around the tiny studio apartment.
>The inside was well-kept, though what surprised you was the lack of items within the apartment itself.
>You expected someone as talented as Octavia to have more money than this studio suggests....
>The bland and simple furniture aside, you notice a series of awards and photos residing on a wooden bookshelf.
>Octavia walks over to that shelf and places her cello next to it.
>Her tail blocks the view of a majority of her honors.
>You look around more of the tiny apartment for another sign of prosperity.

"Nice place, Octavia."
>She scoffs.
>"Well, we don't have to be here too long. Are you about ready to leave?"
>You give her a look of confusion.
"What's wrong with staying here and talking for a bit?"
>She hides her face from you.
>"Nothing, I suppose... though I must admit that I am ashamed that you are in here right now."
>You shake your head.
"Don't be. That's silly. Do you mind if I grab a drink?"
>"No, go right ahead."

>You take a few steps and arrive in the kitchen.
>You see a small package of styrofoam cups.
>You take one and open the fridge.
>To your surprise, it is nearly empty.
>There was only a bottle of water, some fruit, and a assortment of leftovers.
>Most looked like elegant versions of ramen.

>You decide against drinking her last but of water.
>Though you are confused.
>Quite confused.
>You leave the kitchen and approach Octavia.
>She was in the process of cleaning some of her awards.
>She gives you a small smile.
>"You ready to head out, Anon?"
>The bags under her eyes are more clear indoors.

>You shake your head.
"Before we do anything, is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
>Octavia gives you a nervous laugh.
>"Like what, Anon?"
>You sit down the sofa.

"Is everything ok with you?"
>You see her begin to sweat.
>"Whatever do you mean?"
>You look around the apartment again.
>Gotta make sure didn't miss anything.
"Well... this isn't quite the place I thought you'd be living in."

>Octavia sighs and sits next to you.
>You feel as if the couch is about to collapse under the weight.
>"I don't know where you thought I'd be living, Anon...."
>She looks around the apartment.
>You try to catch her eyes.
>No luck.
>She won't look at you for some odd reason.
>You hear her sniffle.
>She rubs her eyes.

>"... but this is the best that somepony of my talent can afford."

~