For the Record 16

>The office is stuffy.
>A greasy-looking stallion sits across from you, watching you stare at the contract on your desk.
>You arch your fingers and let what you're reading sink in.
>Eventually you look up at him.
“So let me get this straight,” you begin. “You want to sign my client for a two week engagement at your establishment, to play two hours a night every night, and you've left off pay in the contract?”
>”The Highball is a very popular lounge. The amount of exposure--”
“Let me stop you right there. Do you know how a job works?”
>The stallion blinks blankly.
>”What do you mean?”
“Not a trick question. Do you know how a job works? See, my client does this for a living. I do this for a living. She and I have bills to pay. Food to buy. Rent to keep up with. And you want to pay in exposure.”
>”It's a very valuable--”
>You raise a hand and pick up the phone.
“Let me just call up my landlord and ask him if I can pay in exposure.”
>”I think you've made your--”
“Good, so you understand my indignation at having my time wasted. What made you think I'd take this offer? If you'd done any research at all you'd know that Octavia isn't in need of more exposure. We're doing just fine on that front. She's not some up-and-comer looking for gigs at the coffee shop and I'm not some schmuck who works for free.”
>”If I could just--”
“No.” You hang up the receiver with a loud clack. “Get out of my office. I have more important things to deal with than sleazy club owners trying to shave off some expenses by fucking over musicians.”
>He reaches for the contract.
“I'll hang onto this. Otherwise nop0ny'll believe you actually thought I'd jump for your deal. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.”
1/

>You stand up and motion for the door.
>When he walks out, May pokes her head in.
>”That was your last appointment,” she declares.
“Thanks. Do you have a writeup for tomorrow done? I'm gonna call it early today. I need a drink after that guy.”
>”I heard some of your conversation. He sounded like a character.”
“Got that right.”
>”I can have a writeup finished in a few minutes.” She pulls the typewriter out of its drawer.
“Great. You head home after that, too, alright? I don't want you sticking around late.”
>”Oh, don't you worry about that.”
>You push the papers cluttering your desk over to one side.
>There will be time to organize it tomorrow. Probably.
>You're just locking the drawers when you hear the phone ring outside.
>May pokes her head in again.
>”Minor Seventh on the phone, Anon,” she says.
“Put her through.” You lean back in your chair and lift the receiver. “Minnie! How are you?”
>”I'm very well, thank you. How is Canterlot?”
“Oh, you know, lively as usual. Octavia's been doing a couple short gigs in town.”
>”Lovely.”
“So what can I do for you?”
>”Oh, it's more what I can do for you,” Minnie replies coyly.
>You raise an eyebrow.
>”The talent manager at the Fillydelphia Philharmonic gave me a call this morning,” she continues. “Apparently their soloist caught flu and is stuck in Baltimare coughing her lungs up. So you can see they're in a bit of a bind.”
“Are they? I'd think the Philharmonic would have understudies.”
>”You'd think that, but the manager is a real hog for outside talent, lucky for you. I told him I know a mare who can fill in.”
“When's the show?”
>”Day after tomorrow.”
“That's some short notice, Minnie.”
>”The label will cover everything. We can have it all set up by tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. I'll run it by Octavia tonight and call you in the morning. I'm going to go ahead and assume she'll be interested, though.”
2/

>Minnie giggles.
>”Alright, I'll let my contacts know. I'll also set up a meeting with our recording ponies so you and Octavia can get started on planning her album.” She says something away from the phone that you can't make out.
“Sounds great. Thanks for the heads up.” You lean back in your seat and look at the ceiling.
>”Not at all. I told you you'd made it and I meant it. This show will be huge.”
“Fantastic. I'll call tomorrow. Take care.”
>”You too.”
>There's a long pause between when you hang up and when you stop holding your breath.
>Eventually you come to your senses again.
“May!” you call out.
>”Yes?”
“Change of plans. You're coming out with us to celebrate.”
>”Wha?” She pokes her head in the door with a look of complete confusion.
“Octavia just got booked to solo for the Filly Philharmonic.”
3/

>”What!?” Octavia screams inside her practice space. You're suddenly thankful for soundproof walls.
“Philharmonic. You get to solo! Minnie called like an hour ago. Me and May are taking you out for celebration drinks! God I wish Vy could be here to see this.”
“Anon!”
“What?” You see her eye twitching. “Why are you angry yelling? You should be happy yelling!”
>”Because you just booked me for the biggest symphony in Equestria on two days notice! I don't even know what I'm playing!”
“You'll do fine!”
>”You always say that!”
“You always do fine!”
>”Buck! I always have time to prepare, Anon! I can't play a solo for the Philharmonic that I've practiced for one day!”
“Octy you've listened to the Filly Philharmonic for years. You know how they play. I'll find out what you're playing once I get back to the office, we'll pick up some sheet music from Dee, and you'll be all set.”
>”Celestia, I'm going to die... I'll be a laughing stock... Ruined...” She paces around the room, ashen.
“Octy shush. You made it through the Gala, didn't you? You made it through Princess Luna's birthday, too. Remember that? Remember the lute? And the frosting?”
>The cellist shudders.
“You did great then and you'll do great in Fillydelphia. Now pack up and get ready. We are celebrating and you are going to have fun. Got it?” You point imperiously at her.
>Octavia takes a few deep breaths.
>”Okay. Okay, I'm calm.”
“Good. I'll see you at the Laughing Pig at eight.”
3/

>Minnie laughs when you tell her Octavia's reaction.
>”I thought she might do that. I hope she isn't too stressed out, though. It's a big opportunity playing the Philharmonic. She should be happy!”
“She'll be freaked out right up until the concert. That's just how she is. But she'll come through. Always does.”
>”That's good to hear. Have you made travel arrangements?”
“A few minutes ago. We'll be coming in around noon tomorrow.”
>”I'll have a pony at the station to meet you. There's a lot to do before the show. I also want to set up a meeting at the office to talk about Octavia's upcoming album.” The mare seems to catch herself speaking rapidly and slows herself down.
“Sounds good. What about pay?”
>”I'm thinking pro bono. You do work for free don't you?” She laughs.
>You smirk and raise an eyebrow.
>”But I'm glad you asked. We didn't bother to renegotiate the payment for our last soloist, so Octavia will be getting her rate.”
“I'm surprised. You'd think they'd try for a cheaper act.”
>”They don't have much choice what with the short notice and all. Anyway, the payment is five.”
“Hundred?”
>There's a pause. You gulp.
“You kidding me. They're paying five thou for a soloist?”
>”They're paying five thousand for your soloist!” Minnie's voice is bright and enthusiastic.
“Damn. Octy's going to have a fit,” you laugh.
>”That is, of course, before taking the label's compensation into account. We still have to pay our ponies, you know. But all told, the two of you will have twenty five hundred to split for two nights performing. Not bad for a first-timer on a national circuit playing house.” She sounds pleased with herself.
“Not at all.”
>You're about to hang up when you suddenly remember why you called in the first place.
“Oh, and what piece is Octavia playing?”
>Minnie bursts out laughing again.
4/

>The hotel is a few blocks from the station. Minnie's courier has you checked in and on your way to the office within an hour.
>When you arrive, Minnie is waiting.
>She beckons you into her office.
>”I'm glad you've made it here. Was your trip alright?” she asks genially.
“We hit a snag coming through past Connecticolt, but we made the time up after that. Not too bad, all told. How's business been?”
>”Oh, engaging as always. The ponies at the Philharmonic have been stressing themselves horribly over this concert. How have you been, Octavia? This hasn't been too taxing, I hope?”
>”Not at all. Anon delivered the sheet music last night.” The cellist is doing her best to act calm, you note.
>”Maretzart's Third in E Minor. You'll play it wonderfully,” Minnie coos.
>”I'll be able to practice starting today.”
>”Fantastic. I won't keep you long. You'll be playing in no time at all.”
“Great. Let's get down to it, then.”
>”Right.” She raps on the desk a couple of times. “Ruby! Can you fetch the engineers, please?”
>A minute or two later, a group of four ponies walks in.
>”Anon, Octavia, I'd like you to meet our sound crew. These ponies are the real masters of craft here. You'll be working with them to get your record in order.”
>You rise to greet the ponies.
“Great to meet you.”
>The lead one nods.
>”So,” Octavia begins, “what's our plan?”
>Minor Seventh grins.
>”Whatever you wish to play, really. Our ponies here can do anything.”
>”Will it succeed?” Octavia asks almost timidly.
>”Of course. There's an ever-growing market for this music, despite what the electronic crowd would have you believe. Play what you're most passionate about and the audience will follow, I promise you.”
5/

>You leave the meeting a half hour later and follow Octavia to her practice room.
>It's spacious and clean. The soundproofed walls make the room's atmosphere seem softer.
>The mare sets up her instrument and begins to read the sheet music.
>Instead of playing, however, she turns to you.
>”Thank you for this. I don't think I've actually said that to you yet.” She fidgets a little bit in her seat.
“I thought you were still freaking out about the whole thing,” you smirk.
>”Oh don't worry. I am. And you'll hear all about it. But we're here and I have to get this done, yes?”
“Sums it up.”
>”So I'll do it. After all, it's a major opportunity.”
>She stiffens in her seat, pauses, and looks to you again.
>”Have you heard from Twilight at all?” Her voice is softer.
“Not for a week or two.” You check your cuffs.
>”Does that worry you?” The cello is resting across her lap.
“She got a little weird last time we talked. Closed off, maybe?”
>”Is it because...”
>You cut her off.
“Maybe. She didn't seem wigged out about it at the time.”
>”Are you?” Octavia's eyes match her tone now.
“It's not the first time I've been the first.”
>She sighs.
>”You said something to me back in Ponyville about not needing a marefriend. Do you think--”
“She isn't.”
>”Then what?”
“She's a friend with... benefits.” You run a hand over your head.  “Little different from what I usually do, but still.”
>”And here I was hoping you'd found somep0ny,” she says, half chuckling. “But,” she continues, voice dropping, “Don't you dare hurt her. I won't forgive you if you do. Understand?”
6/

“Loud and clear.”
>You turn to go.
>”Wait,” she says. “Has Vinyl contacted you at all?”
”Nope.”
>”It's been weeks. I hope she's alright.”
“She's probably having a blast. Tour's out in Baltimare now.”
>”She seemed off when she left. Did you two have a fight?”
“Little bit, but that was like a week or two before. She looked fine at paintball before she left.”
>Octavia shrugs.
>”You're probably right.” You can tell she doesn't believe it.
>You open the door and look back.
“I'm gonna get a late lunch. Minnie's upstairs if you need anything.”
>The cellist starts adjusting her instrument.
“Oh, and do you want to do something tonight? There's supposed to be a great Prancian place just outside of town we could go to.”
>”I know the one. You'd need to reserve a month in advance to get a table there.”
“Hmm, you're probably right. Well, I know an Ibexian place downtown. Want to go there?”
>”Sure. I'll be here until seven.” She's tensing up again.
“I'll make reservations and pick you up. Don't go overboard, alright?”
>Octavia raises her bow and begins playing as you walk off.

>The streets are bustling when you come outside.
>You stretch your arms for a moment, taking in the sights. A cab rushes down the road and nearly bowls over a pedestrian.
>”Lovely, isn't it?”
>Minor Seventh walks up beside you.
>”One of the oldest cities in Equestria, you know. Almost as old as Canterlot,” she muses.
“I didn't know that.”
>”Oh, it's just trivia at this point.” She waves her hoof dismissively. “Are you out for lunch? Want to come along with me?”
“Do you have a place in mind?”
>”As a matter of fact, one has just come to me.” The mare smiles widely. “It's an old pub down near city hall.”
“I like the sound of that.”
>The two of you start down the street.
>Minnie's mane flutters in the wind. She looks up at the sky with bright eyes.
>”How did you meet Octavia?” She asks suddenly.
>You look down and raise an eyebrow in surprise.
>”What?” she smiles. “I'd like to get to know the two of you. I had my chat with Octavia the last time you were here and now I'd like to have my chat with you.”
“Fair enough. It's a fun story anyway. I met Tavi in a Canterlot dinner theater three years ago...”
7/

“...and so the manager's passed out on the stage, and there I am with a bottle of absinthe in one hand and half a violin in the other!”
>Minnie cackles.
“Yeah, so that's the night I met Octy. Month later we were friends, half a year after that I started managing her.”
>”I love an unorthodox partnership,” she says, still giggling.
“It's worked out so far.” You shrug.
>”So I see.”
>The mare leads you down a side street.
>”And here we are!” Minnie gestures dramatically to the door beside two dumpsters and a pitch black alleyway.
>”It's much nicer inside, I swear,” she quickly adds.
>The pub is dark and smells like frying oil and beer.
>”Do you have somep0ny special back in Canterlot?”
>You nearly stumble.
“Me? No. I mean, there's this mare in Ponyville I've been seeing, but--”
>”Say no more. Nothing like a little rendezvous with a casual paramour, right?”
>Minnie motions at a passing server.
>”Try the fried potato strings,” she tells you.
>You shrug and nod.
“That and a beer.”
>”Great.. This is on me, so don't worry about the bill.” Minnie rests her hooves on the table.
8/

>The radio in the background starts to blare some sports broadcast. Ponies flock to the bar.
“So what else do you want to know about me?”
>”Honestly? How you got to Equestria. I've been curious since we met.”
“That story isn't as interesting as you might think. I blacked out on vacation and woke up in Canterlot.”
>”You don't know how?”
“Nope. Just showed up here.”
>”It couldn't have been easy.”
“Wasn't. First year was a tough one. After that I started making friends, cleaned myself up, and before I knew it I was doing this.”
>”Do you miss home?”
“This is home now.”
>Minnie nods. “I think I understand. I went through a similar experience coming out of New Mareleans when I was younger.” She laughs. “Believe it or not, I wasn't always a record executive. When I moved here I had about ten bits and a friend who let me stay in her apartment.”
“It shows.”
>She raises an eyebrow, still smirking.
“The determination, that is. You never came off as a mare who had this handed to her.”
>”Thank you.”
9/

>The next afternoon, you fetch Octavia from the practice space.
“You ready?” you ask as you open the carriage door for her.
>”As I'll ever be,” she replies.
“I heard you when I came over. It sounded great.”
>”I didn't even get to practice with the orchestra for two hours...”
“You're ready. I know you are.”
>”Then why did you ask?”
“To make sure you knew.”
>You check your cuffs and tie.
>”You're not planning anything weird, are you?” she asks.
“Nope. Didn't have time to.”
>”Promise?”
“Cross my heart. Just focus on playing, okay?”
>”Okay.”
>The cellist takes a deep breath.
“Nervous?”
>She doesn't answer. She just stares at you, incredulous.
“Right. Anyway, I'll be right in the wings.”
>The carriage rounds a corner. You see the Philharmonic concert hall looming.
“Here we are. Ninety to curtain.”
>You step out and open the door for Octavia.
“Big break time.”
>She takes your hand and follows you to the door.
10/

>Fillydelphia's Concert Hall is massive. You catch Octavia marveling at the ornate interior as the two of you cross the stage.
>The dark wood walls are accented with great granite columns that rise up to gold caps that frame the hall's painted ceiling.
“It's really something else, huh?” you say to the mare.
>”Gorgeous...” she breathes.
>At the back of the stage sits a set of huge bronze-plated organ pipes. You can only imagine the sound they can make.
>”The Gala was nothing like this,” Octavia says, her nerves showing again.
“Makes Fancy's place in Ponyville look like a chump act,” you quip. “But you killed it there and you'll kill it here.”
>”You keep saying that...”
>The two of you get backstage and reach the soloist dressing room.
“I keep saying it because I believe it. You're ready.”
>You show her inside.
>”How long to curtain?” she asks.
“Long enough to take some deep breaths and relax before the show.”
>Something on the far wall catches your eye.
“Holy crap they have phones in here.”
>”You have a phone in your office. And your house.”
“Yeah, but those cost me a mint. I had to eat dry cereal for a month after buying those things.”
>”Is that why you got so thin?” she laughs.
>The phone rings.
>Octavia stares at you.
>”Anon...” she starts.
“Not my doing, I swear.”
>You pick up the receiver.
“Yes?”
>”This is the front desk. There's a pony here to see Anonymous. Should I send them to you?”
“Who is it?”
>”I've been asked not to say.”
>You knot your brow.
“Alright, send them down I guess.”
>You hang up and turn to Octavia.
“Looks like I've got company.”
11/

>”Who was it?” the cellist asks.
“They wouldn't say. We'll find out in a minute.”
>Octavia starts taking her instrument out of its case.
>As she starts tuning, there's a knock on the door.
>You motion for Octavia to keep going as you answer it.
>When you open the door, your eyes go wide. Standing on the other side is a violet unicorn barely containing a wide smile.
“Twi-”
>She leaps at you and nearly tackles you into the room.
>”Surprise!” she cries.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, picking yourself up.
>”Oh, I  came up to surprise you in Canterlot yesterday, but the mare at your office said you were here. So I had a few days I'd be away and I decided that coming here would be more fun than sitting in the library all weekend. You don't mind, do you?”
“Not at all! You surprised me is all. You're gonna be in the audience?”
>”The only seats they had left were second balcony...”
>Octavia clears her throat.
“We should leave her be.”
>You lead the purple mare out into the hall.
>”Isn't she excited? This is huge!”
“She is. She's just more nervous. This was super short notice.”
>”I heard. You got the offer two days ago, right?”
“Pretty much. It's been hectic, but it'll be worth it. This is what we've been waiting for.”
>Twilight looks down the hall softly.
>”I also kind of wanted to apologize,” she says quietly.
“For what?”
>”For dropping off the map two weeks ago. I don't know, I just felt off about what happened.”
“It happens.” You put your hand on her shoulder.
>”I don't know why. I was fine for a whole week after, and then it just hit me like I'd done something wrong.”
“It's nothing to be ashamed of. The first time can be weird like that.”
>”Was yours?”
“I uh... don't really remember mine very well.”
>She giggles. “You should get that amnesia looked at.” You feel her nuzzle your leg.
>When you sit down against the wall, she rests her head on your thigh.
>”But I'm alright now.”
>You tousle her mane.
“I see that.”
12/

>As the doors open, Twilight heads to her seat and you head back to the dressing room.
>”It was sweet of Twilight to come all the way out here to see you.”
“Yeah it was. She honestly caught me off guard there.”
>”I'm glad to see you're letting your guard down a little,” she says coyly.
>You grin.
“Glad to see you've shaken those nerves. Curtain's in fifteen. Do you need anything?”
>”I think I'm all set, actually.”
“Great. I think the conductor is giving his lecture now. You can head to the wings to wait and listen if you want.”
>”I think I'd like that.”

>By the time the conductor has finished his lecture and introductions, Octavia is looking much more comfortable.
>You're honestly not sure whether she's freaking out inside or not.
>The conductor announces her and she's off to the front of the orchestra.
>A wave of applause cascades over the stage.
>Octavia bows and sits as the first movement starts.
13/

>Soon the orchestra changes. Their playing becomes subtler and foundational.
>You watch Octavia close her eyes and then open them again with a look of determination.
>She draws her bow across the cello's strings.
>The melody is mournful and slow but intricate. It goes for sixteen bars before the orchestra picks up again, interjecting every so often to undercut the soloist.
>After twenty minutes, the first movement ends. There's a long rest, and then Octavia starts up again.
>Her sound is lighter. The mood lifts and a new energy comes out.
>The orchestra comes in slowly, lifting to a high volume and vivaciously taking over while Octavia deftly turns the page.
>You see her gaze briefly flit to you before she goes into the main part of her solo.
>The notes pour out of her instrument. The music ebbs and flows around the concert hall.
>Octavia's pace quickens. The tempo follows. The conductor flicks his baton lightly, and then in wide dramatic gestures, pulling the orchestra into a great blast of fanfare.
>”Do you know what this piece is about?” comes a voice from beside you.
>You hadn't realized how much you had been drawn in until you were pulled out. You jump a little and whip around to see Twilight standing next to you.
“How did--”
>”I snuck out and came around here,” she says almost deviously. “You must be rubbing off on me.”
“Second balcony's not much of a seat anyway. So what is the piece about?”
14/

>”I read about the composer on the train over here. Maretzart originally wrote this piece as part of an unfinished opera, hence the interjections of the orchestra. The part of the soloist would have been filled by a singer in the original,” Twilight says. “In the scene before this, Auguste, the main character, is betrayed by her lover Nymedon. This symphony comes right after that and conveys her despair, wandering the streets of Selle, Prance. In the second movement, she vows revenge but, before she does the deed, realizes that she has to move on and not be bound by her anger.”
>Octavia goes into a loud reprise.
>”Here. Right here. This is where Auguste decides not to go through with her plan. She realizes that doing it would seal her fate and doom her.”
>The music dies down to a whisper.
>”And so she takes to the streets again, but with purpose this time.”
>The volume rises.
>”She goes to the Gardens of Selle, overlooking the river valley that flows from the mountains...”
>You hear one last crescendo as Octavia and the orchestra come together in a rapturous finale.
>”...and proclaims herself free, no longer stuck in her anger and betrayal.”
>The audience roars with applause.
“I thought it was just a symphony.”
>Twilight smiles and nuzzles you.
>”It's never just a symphony.”
>A few minutes later, Octavia returns to the wings, breathless.
“You did it!” you yell.
>”I really did...” the cellist breathes.
>”You were amazing,” Twilight adds.
“They loved you. Just listen to that applause, Tavi! How do you feel?”
>”I think I'd like to go to the room now. My legs are like jelly.”
>The orchestra files off stage to prepare for the next symphony.
>When you get to the dressing room, Octavia flops into a chair.
>”I can't believe it,” she says quietly.
“Well believe it. You just hit the bigtime.”
>”We did,” she corrects.
15/

>Twilight suddenly perks up.
>”We should celebrate,” she announces.
“How do you suggest?”
>”I can't even move right now...” Octavia sighs.
>”Not a problem,” Twilight replies. She looks to you. “Don't wait up,” she smirks.
>Before you can reply, she's gone in a flash of violet light.
>”What was-”
“No idea. Just be glad she didn't bring us somewhere. That trick makes me nauseous.”
>”I wonder what she's thinking.”
>The phone rings.
>You raise an eyebrow.
“We're popular, huh?”
>”Seems so,” Octavia laughs.
>You pick up the receiver.
“Hello? This is Anonymous.”
>There's a pause, then the click of the line being transferred.
>”Is this Anonymous?” The mare on the other end of the line sounds like she's pulling an all-nighter.
“Yes? Who is this?”
>”This is Baltimare General Hospital. You're Vinyl Scratch's emergency contact.”
>You almost drop the phone.
“What?”
>”Ms. Scratch is in our ER. She was unresponsive when we picked her up an hour ago.”
“And you didn't call me then?”
>”We tried. It was a little hard to find out where you were, you understand. You're lucky one of our nurses is a classical fanatic.”
“How's Vinyl?”
>Octavia is pale.
>”She's not great, honestly. She woke up a few minutes ago, though. We're waiting for blood work now.”
“Shit. Thanks for telling me.”
>”Not at all. Come out if you can. She'll need somep0ny close on this.”
>The mare hangs up. You stand paralyzed.
>There's a violet flash in the corner of the room. Twilight appears with a bottle of champagne.
>”Tada...” She trails off, face falling.
>”Anon?” Octavia says almost inaudibly.
>You slide down the wall to the floor.
End