For the Record: Chapter 7

>You stride through the doors to the venue's main hall, where Fancypants is holding the concert reception.
>The sound of a hundred conversations fills the space as ponies discuss the show and the opening.
>For a few seconds you stand at the edge of the room, scanning for familiar faces.
>Near the center, you spot Maxie talking with Fancypants himself. With them are a few important-looking mares and stallions. You snake your way towards them.
>Fancypants turns and sees you coming.
>”Anonymous,” he says, motioning with his hoof to the other ponies in the group. “Glad you could make it.” You nod at the stallion with a grin. “Let me introduce you. Anonymous, this is--”
Long Play, Gold Label, and of course, Ms. Minor Seventh. You think I wouldn't recognize some of the biggest ponies in the business?
>The three ponies look between you and Fancypants in confusion. You maintain your smile and extend a hand to each of them.
>Gold Label is the first to speak up after shaking your hand.
>”I don't believe I've ever seen anything like you before, Anonymous. You can't possibly be from Equestria.”
>”Don't be rude, Gold,” Minor Seventh admonishes. She turns back to you. “I'm sorry about him. He loses his sense of tact sometimes. How do you know Fancypants here?”
It's quite alright, miss. And Fancy and I go back a couple years, don't we, Fancy?
>You shoot a smirk to Maxie, who suppresses a smile back.
But who I am isn't so important. You should be wondering who I represent.
>Gold raises an eyebrow.  “And who might that be?” he asks.
Only Canterlot's brightest rising star. You're lucky. You really saw her shine tonight.
>Fancypants butts in. “Anonymous represents the new cellist, Octavia. She played following Violina.”
>He casts an almost annoyed glance your way.
>”Oh, the cellist? She was good, wasn't she, Gold?” Long Play says. “It sounded familiar, though. She can't be new. I'm sure I've heard her before.”
>You break a wide smile.
1/

You must have been at the Gala last year, then, Mr. Play.
>”The Gala! That's it! She played at the Gala last year.”
>”The disastrous one? Where all the animals got loose?” Minor Seventh asks.
That's the one. She's become something of a local phenomenon, but we've been working on changing that. This was her first show out of Canterlot.
>Minor Seventh raises her eyebrows. “Her first?”
Made for a fine debut, don't you think? I'm really proud of her. She's worked really hard to get here, and I have Fancypants to thank for helping us along, too. Did you know he agreed to give her studio time to record a demo?
>You pat Fancypants on the shoulder. His eye twitches slightly.
>”Really now? I think I'd like to hear that demo, Anonymous,” the mare says.
Please, call me Anon.
>”Alright, Anon. Why don't I give you my card and you send that demo to my office in Fillydelphia?”
That sounds like a plan, Ms. Seventh.
>”Where is Octavia, if I may ask?” She floats a card to you while looking around behind you.
She couldn't make it, I'm afraid. A friend of ours was insistent on throwing her a celebration party.
>You hand her your card in return.
>”Oh?” Gold Label asks. You look to him and shrug.
Well, Long Play knows you don't say no to Vinyl Scratch.
>”Your friend is Ms. Scratch, is she?” Gold asks, turning to Minor Seventh. “You signed her a few years ago, didn't you?”
>”That I did. I was wondering where she'd run off to. Her manager was as in the dark as anyone,” Gold replies.
She does that.
>The mare's face twists into a knowing smirk.
>”Well, you certainly keep interesting company, Anon. I'm sure we'll be hearing more from Octavia very soon. Care to stick around for a bit? We were going to discuss some of the other acts.”
2/

That sounds good, but I should probably make sure Vinyl's party goes off without a hitch.
>You hold out your card to the two other ponies.
Here's my info. Give me a call at my office in Canterlot sometime. I'd love to talk shop.
>As you head off from the group, you spin back around.
Great finally meeting you all. I'll have that demo out to you at the end of the month, Miss.
>”Please. Call me Minnie.”
>You grin and walk out of the hall towards backstage.
3/

>Octavia's room is empty when you look inside. You continue down the hall towards the room at the end.
>On a modest sign there is the name “Arpeggia.”
>You give a few knocks, then listen to the fumbling that ensues.
>A coffee-colored mare answers the door, looking up at you with piercing blue eyes. Her light brown mane is tied up in a tight bun.
>”Yes? Can I help you?” she asks impatiently.
Is that any way to say 'hi' to an old friend?
>You lean on the door frame and look past her.
Hope I'm not interrupting anything.
>Octavia pops up from the couch.
>”Octavia and I were just catching up, Anon. I thought you were off cavorting with the big wigs?” Arpeggia says.
I was, but we're on a schedule. Only had to lay the groundwork here. I'll follow up once we're back in Canterlot. You know how it goes.
>You look to Octavia.
We've got to get up to the farm for Vy's party or she'll kill us. Arpeggia's more than welcome to come along, you know.
>”You know as well as she does that I don't much care for large parties,” Arpeggia answers.
Neither does Tavi, but she's going. Vinyl threw it specially for her.
>Octavia gets up and walks to the door.
>”I'll get my things. It was nice catching up, Peggi,” she says softly.
>When she's out of earshot, you turn back to the brown mare.
That was some performance you gave tonight.
>”Thank you. Octavia did very well, too.”
Yeah, she did. You know she was practically dying before she went on?
>”It didn't come across at all on stage.”
That's because she was thinking about something else. Party's at Sweet Apple Acres. Started ten minutes ago.
>Arpeggia sighs with a soft smile forming on her lips.
>“Alright, I'll see what I can do.”
4/

>You can faintly hear Vinyl's music thumping from across town.
>Octavia walks next to you as you make you way towards the barn.
>”Did you see anyp0ny you knew at the reception?” she asks.
Maxie was there, but we didn't talk.
>”You, passing up a chance to chat a mare up?” Octavia laughs.
Fancypants was right there. I got Minor Seventh's card, though. Gold Label and Long Play have my card, too. Probably won't hear from those two any time soon, but I'm sending Minnie a demo of yours. With any luck that'll give us some momentum getting into the Fillydelphia scene.
>”Minnie?”
Her idea, not mine.
>”Just...you know, don't.”
>You laugh loudly.
Thought crossed my mind. I'll admit it. Don't worry, though. That'd be interfering with business.
>”What about Maxie?”
That, Tavi, is helping our business.
>”For how long?”
>Octavia's pace slows. You match it.
Look, it's not like I'm stringing the mare along. She knows the deal here.
>”That you're using her for her connection with Fancy?”
>You  furrow your brow.
What? No, of course not. You really think that's the reason?
>”What is the reason, then?”
She's hot and she puts out and she isn't brain dead.
>”Like Cheerilee?”
Exactly. Just Maxie comes with that added business perk. It's secondary. Besides, she approached me with help, not the other way around. I thought we'd gotten past you thinking this kind of stuff about my motives?
>”It's hard not to.”
Hey, I kept my word about Twilight, didn't I?
>”Yes.”
So give me the benefit of the doubt, will you? It isn't all a grand plan by me. Sometimes things just happen.
5/

>Vinyl's bass lines pound at the barn doors.
>Octavia takes a deep breath as you lay your hands on the doors and push them open.
>Flashing lights line the ceiling. Strobes and disco balls hang from the rafters. You walk in and spot Vinyl at the raised DJ console.
>She looks up and you point at her with a wide grin.
>The DJ smiles back and throws you a mic.
>You lean down to Octavia.
Welcome to the big charade.
>With one hand, you click the mic on. With the other, you make a sweeping gesture towards Octavia.
Everyp0ny!
>Your voice booms. Vinyl lowers the music volume.
Please! Your attention! Give a big warm welcome to Canterlot's biggest rising star and my good friend, the mare of the hour: Octavia!
>The crowd starts cheering.
Now, Vy, I think you have something for us, don't you?
>Octavia looks up at you, perplexed. Vinyl's eyes gleam.
Hit it!
>The DJ dives down behind the console for a second before popping up again with a record.
>She floats it onto the turntable and pulls her mic close to her.
>”Alright, ponies, this one's for Octy!”
>You throw the mic back to the Vinyl and lead Octavia to the middle of the room.
>Calm cello music starts to filter through the speakers, building to a crescendo.
>”Anon, what is this?” Octavia says over the sound.
Just listen!
>The music slowly picks up tempo.
>Just as it transitions to the next part of the movement, the track stutters. Eight bars later, it does it again. Then four, then two, then every measure. Vinyl lays a beat over the cello. The crowd starts to churn with it. She laces layers of Octavia playing over one another, skillfully turning the classical solo into an energetic house mix.
>You look down at Octavia. She stands watching the ponies on the dance floor with traces of a smile on her face.
6/

>After the song ends, Vinyl hops down from the platform and lets one of the locals take over for her.
>You and Octavia wait for her on the edge of the crowd.
>When she finally meets the two of you, she leaps at the cellist, nearly bowling her over.
>”Ooooh, my little Tavi did her first big show! I'm so proud of you!” Vinyl yells as she pulls Octavia into a tight hug.
>”Sqeezing... my ribs...Vy...” Octavia manages to grunt in response.
>The DJ releases her grip on Octavia and composes herself.
>”I'm sorry, I'm just excited.” She turns to you. “Did you seal the deal?”
Got a card from Minor Seventh. I'm sending her a demo once we record at Fancy's. Also got my card out to Long Play and Gold Label.
>Vinyl grins wildly. “That's the Anon I know! Gettin' it done!” She whips back around to Octavia.
>”Did you like the song?” she asks rapidly.
>”You know I don't much care for that kind of music, Vy,” the cellist answers. Vinyl's face falls. Octavia smirks. “But I loved what you did with it.”
>The white mare beams and latches onto her again.
>”You're staying for the whole party, right? We have to celebrate! Tavi's big break! Finally!”
>You lean down and catch both of them in your arms.
Oh, she's staying.
>”Alright! You gotta try Pinkie's new drink, both of you! It's got like... bubblegum in it or something!”
>”Bubblegum?” Octavia asks, eyebrows raised.
>”Yeah. Bubblegum.”
>”How?”
>”Beats me. It's Pinkie. Mare's got skills even I don't know about.”
Sounds interesting. You in, Tavi?
>”It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice,” Octavia chuckles.
>Vinyl puts a hoof on Octavia's shoulder. “No, little Tavi. No, you don't. But I can put it in a martini glass for you if you want,” she mews.
>You look towards the bar.
Sounds like fun.
7/

>A few minutes later, you find yourself at the bar with Octavia and Vinyl flanking you. Pinkie stands bubbly across the counter from you.
>The music is muffled at the bar and in the table areas. Vinyl had set up a sound-dampening barrier prior to the start of the evening's festivities to cover for the poor acoustics of the barn.
>You take a sip of the pink drink.
Well I'll be damned. Bubblegum.
>As if to punctuate your statement, Vinyl blows a bubble.
>”How did you even do this, Pinkie?” Octavia asks, swirling her drink in the martini glass.
>The pink mare giggles.
>”That's a secret!” she answers.
>”You're crazy, you know that?” Vinyl laughs, downing the rest of hers. “Feeling it yet, Octy?”
>The cellist places her glass down.
>”I try not to over-indulge.”
>”Same old Tavi,” Vinyl sighs. “What about you, Anon?”
It'll take more than a couple of these to get me. You know that.
>”Attaboy.”
>Octavia freezes.
>You look to where her gaze is locked.
Tavi? What's up?
>She doesn't respond.
>”Tavi?” Vinyl furrows her brow.
>Finally you spot whomever Octavia is staring at.
>A light brown, tightly tied-back mane weaves through the crowd.
Well well, look who came to the party.
>”Is that--”
Arpeggia!
>The mare turns at your yelling. You wave and point to Octavia before pushing the cellist forward.
Looks like you're free to go. Don't have too much fun.
>”Is that a blush?” Vinyl whispers to you, smiling.
8/

>Once Octavia leaves, Vinyl leans up against the bar.
>”So, is teacher-teacher coming tonight?” she asks.
>You look out at the dancefloor.
Dunno. She said she's busy.
>”You sound disappointed.”
Why would I be disappointed?
>”Your go-to mare hasn't shown. It's our last night here, isn't it?”
Go-to mare? We hooked up like...three times.
>”Admit it. You're disappointed. I can see it on your face!”
It's an opportunity to meet some new mares.
>You lean against the bar and look over at a nearby yellow mare.
>She doesn't even let you get a word out before scoffing and stalking off.
>”Smooth,” Vinyl laughs.
Whatever. You playing any more tonight?
>”There's a couple more ponies doing sets, but I'm closing out. Until then, I'm cruising”
Got your eye on some locals?
>”Of course. Did you see that tan one with the hourglass?”
>Vinyl sighs.
>”I never get a chance to have some country colt.” She looks at you with a devious grin. “So, big guy, you'd better step it up if you don't wanna be the only one not getting cozy tonight.”
>Pinkie pokes her head between the two of you.
>”Freshen your drinks?”
>You push your glass to her.
Vodka and orange. Hold the orange.
9/

>After a few more minutes, Vinyl wanders off into the crowd.
>Pinkie has disappeared on the dancefloor, abandoning the bar. A different pink mare now stands across the counter from you, swaying gently back and forth.
>You lean against the bar and nurse your drink, letting yourself tune out everything except the music.
>This makes you jump especially high when you hear an unexpected voice pipe up next to you.
>”I wasn't expecting to see you here alone, Anon.” You look to the side to see Twilight standing primly next to you.
Neither was I. Where are your friends?
>”They're off dancing, mostly. I think Fluttershy is somewhere in the back.”
And you're at the bar.
>Twilight looks at her glass self-consciously.
>”It's juice.”
>You take another sip of your drink.
Did you make it to the show?
>”Of course. We all did. Even Pinkie Pie got in for Octavia's song.”
>She looks at you directly.
>”All that practice was worth it. She was wonderful. Where is she? I didn't see her when we all got here.”
>You gesture at the dancefloor.
She's probably avoiding all that with an old friend of hers. She'll be back at some point, though, once she loosens up a little.
>”How do you know?”
>You turn to the mare.
Because she's got to. The charade is as important as the music and she has to play along with the charade.
>An empty table catches your eye. You nod towards it.
There's a table over there. Want to pony watch with me?
>Twilight seems to furrow her brow a bit at your question, but smiles after a second's thought.
>”Alright.”
10/

>The two of you sit at the table and set your drinks down.
>You lean back in your chair and look over at the other tables.
>”Seems like you weren't expecting to talk to anyp0ny tonight,” Twilight says. “It doesn't seem like you.”
I guess not. Certainly didn't expect you to come up talking to me. No offense, but you don't seem the like type to do that.
>She fiddles with her glass.
>”No, I'm not. But I thought I should make an effort. I had you pegged all wrong.”
Oh?
>You raise an eyebrow.
>”I thought you were, I don't know, underhanded. Octavia made it out like you had some sleazy ulterior motive coming here.”
She exaggerates a lot. Means well in the long run.
>”It didn't come off like that, let me tell you. I was convinced.”
So what changed?
>You turn and face Twilight. Your glass is empty.
>”Talking to you, I suppose. You're not so bad as she made you out to be with the constant warnings. I thought you'd be more dishonest, honestly.”
Well, I'm happy to hear that. I don't want ponies thinking I'm dishonest.
>”With your line of work? And your... lifestyle?”
I don't string ponies along. That's just not something you do to somep0ny.
>Twilight tilts her head to the side, looking confused.
>”That's... strangely noble.”
Thanks.
>You motion to her now empty glass.
How about some more drinks? Juice?
>The mare thinks.
>”How about a... what was it I had last night?”
>You blink a couple times in surprise.
A--
>”Horse's Neck! Yes!” She composes herself, having triumphed in her small victory over memory. “One of those.”
Alright, back in a sec.
11/

>An hour later.
>”What about them?” Twilight asks, pointing to a couple at a nearby table.
>You lean forward, across the eight empty glasses in front of you.
I'd say third, fourth date. See how she's leaning out from him just a tiny bit, though?
>Twilight squints. “I...think so?”
He's into her. You can tell by how animated he is. But her? I'd say the magic wore off last date. She'll call it off before it gets serious.
>”You got all that from just looking?”
It's a skill. Why don't you try? What can you tell me about those two over there?
>You point out a couple on the edge of the dancefloor.
>The violet mare peers at the two with a red tinge to her muzzle. Her own three empty glasses sit across from yours.
>”The pink mare and the green stallion, right?”
Yep.
>”I... I don't know. They don't even look like they're together. They're not even touching even though everyp0ny else is.”
Anything else?
>”It's a slow song, right? So if they're close, they should be dancing like the others, right?”
You're kind of right.
>Twilight turns back to you momentarily.
They aren't together. They probably just met on the dancefloor or at the bar.
>”Then--”
But she's going to sleep with him.
>Twilight turns red.
>”Wh--”
Look how she's dancing.
>Twilight knots her brow and stares at the pair.
That thing she's doing with her tail when she turns? Like she's inviting him closer? She's already decided, but he doesn't know it. That's why he isn't moving in. He's not seeing the invitation.
>Twilight turns away from the dancing couple and look at you softly.
>”How did you develop a skill like that?”
Experience.
>”I can't imagine what kind of experience teaches you to see the world like that.”
It takes lots of good... and lots of bad.
>You perk yourself up, not wanting to sour the mood.
But it sure helps my work. Lets me see what to say to who.
>”Whom.”
Really?
>Twilight laughs.
12/

>Another hour later.
>The table is covered in glasses now.
>You sit at rapt attention, listening to Twilight.
>”...So then we channel that energy through our horn and it illumin... immulim... imim...” She trails off, apparently trying to reign her tongue in. “It lights up, like you've seen, and we can use the energy then, to do magic.”
>The mare's gaze floats over to the glasses on the table.
>”Did we drink all that?”
>She levitates a glass. It wobbles and bobs as she tries to hold her concentration.
Yep.
>You take note of the floor, and how it is now rising and falling like waves.
Ever been on a boat, Twi?
>Twilight's eyes go wide.
>”Like a sailboat? No, never.” There's a note of awe in her voice. “Have you?”
Once, when I was younger.
>”What's it like? I've read about it. The freedom, the open ocean, it must be amazing.”
It was pretty cool. We had grog and looked for mermaids.
>”What's a mermaid?”
>You look at the ceiling.
It's like a person, a lady on top, but with a fish tail instead of legs.
>”Like a seapony?”
Are those real?
>Twilight sputters loudly.
>”What? No. That's crazy. Seaponies... Wait... Yes.” She pauses for a second and then dissolves into giggles.
Wow.
>A thought strikes the mare. “Wait, what's grog?”
>You perk up, a wide grin forming on your face.
I will show you. Wait here.
>The table thankfully cooperates as you hoist yourself up and wobble to the bar.
>You return a few minutes later with two mugs. After setting them down amongst the empty glasses, you sit again.
Ok. So take the cinnamon and stir this.
>”What's in it?” Twilight sways side to side slightly.
Rum, sugar, cinnamon, hot water. Try... oh.
>Twilight is already drinking.
>You lift the mug to your lips and--
13/

>Sunlight streams in through the window above you.
>Your head is pounding.
>Your vision is blurred, but even through the haze you vaguely recognize your surroundings.
>A tight knot in your stomach starts to form.
>Where are your clothes?
>You sit up and rub your temples.
>Clothes are on the floor across the roo--
>Realization hits you.
>You whip around and look at the room.
Library.
>The knot grows.
>Slowly, you turn your head to look at the other side of the bed.
>Staring back quietly,  is Twilight.
M-morning?
>”Good morning,” she replies with unnerving calmness. She looks almost amused by your reaction.
>You wrack your brain, but can't remember anything after you brought the grog back to the table.
Did we--
>Without realizing what you're doing, you stop yourself and roll out of bed.
>A wave of panic crashes over you as a second realization hits.
>Octavia is going to kill you.
Oh shit.
>Twilight looks confused.
>”What is i--” Before she can finish, you've bolted for the door, picking up your clothes in a mad rush.
>As you walk away into the fresh morning air, you turn and look back at the library.
>There's a twinge in your chest where the usual sense of accomplishment is supposed to be.
End.