The week following Octy's 'never mind' incident seemed to drag on forever. Even with the sweet release I got from dubtrot, the week sucked. Every one of my boring classes decided that they needed to give us evenmore homework to prepare for exams, and Octy was no help.

"You need to do your own homework, or you'll never learn," she said after I asked her for the millionth time.

"But it's boring!" I whined. "It's hard, too."

"Then you should pay attention in class. I have the same level classes as you, and I get the same work. I have no trouble with any of it."

"That's because you're a bucking genius," I grumbled. "You understand everything."

"I just pay attention and take notes," Octy replied. "How about we take a break? I can tell you my cutie mark story if you'd like." She smiled at me and I released the magical hold on the book I was supposed to be reading.

"Sounds great!" I trotted to the bedroom and plopped myself on the bed. Octavia was more dignified, choosing to walk in and curl up neatly on her bed, making sure her hooves were placed so they wouldn't fall asleep.

"Are you ready? It's a rather simple story, but I think even you would find it interesting."

"Anything is more interesting than the reproductive system of a griffon." I adjusted myself so I was in a better 'listening-to-Octy' position and watched her, waiting for her to begin.

"Well, it all started when I was a very young filly. I would see my mother playing all sorts of instruments and I would want to play them too. She played the cello as my lullaby, and I wanted so badly to be able to play like her.

"I remember asking my father to buy me a cello one year for my birthday. He told me I was much too small for a cello, and that was the end of the matter. I didn't argue with my parents. Well, that night, I heard my mother tell my father that I was sad while she played my lullaby. My father told her that I wanted a cello and that he had said no. I sat by their door all night listening to my mother argue about how I should have something to play." Octavia stopped for a moment, a small smile across her face.

"Did he buy you a cello or something?" I asked, unable to sit patiently. Octy shook her head at my foalishness, but she continued on.

"I fell asleep at their door and when my father woke me up, he presented me with a violin. At first, I was upset. I told him that he had the wrong instrument. He laughed and told me that he was starting me off with the violin to see if I could play. He worried for me. My mother, as you know, is a unicorn. Her magic helped her to play. My father, being an earth pony like myself, knew that earth ponies have a hard time doing things that unicorns find simple. He was afraid that I would be unable to play the violin. He thought I would fail and be heartbroken.

"I remember how happy I was when my mother started teaching me to play. It was harder for her because she had to teach me how to hold the violin instead of how to levitate it, but she figured it out in the end. I was horrible at first; the notes sounded like hoof-tips on a chalkboard. I got better in time, but it took me almost a year to be able to play a simple lullaby."

"Did you ever get your cello?" I asked. The cello was what made her Octy. I had grown so used to her fawning over her cello that hearing her talk about a violin in the same way made me feel like she was betraying her instrument.

"I'm getting to that," Octy snapped. "When I was able to play the perfect lullaby, I called my parents into the sitting room. My father, who had always been out with a client when I practiced, was prepared for the worst. My mother, who I had excluded after six months, was expecting nothing more than a few short notes. I think I shocked them both when I started to play.

"I did a simple lullaby. It was nothing more than that. I eased through the notes and, when I was done, I felt this surge of joy. My parents applauded and I felt this...spark go through me. I looked down and saw my cutie mark, this treble clef, resting on my flank as though it had been there all my life."

"That explains a lot," I nodded. I had always wondered why Octy didn't have a bass clef. I didn't know much about classical instruments, but I knew for sure that cello was in bass. "It suits you," I added. "I can't see you as anything else but a classical music musician." Octy smiled, but looked down, trying to seem modest.

"You have to tell me your story now," she said suddenly. "You promised me you would tell me, and now you have to live up to that promise."

"I have to study, remember?" I stuck my tongue out. "I'll tell you the story later."

"But I want to hear it now!" Octy whined. "It's been bothering me since I met you! Why is it backwards? Bridged eighth-notes go the other way!"

"I'll tell you when all this homework is done." To prove my point, I left the room and sat at the table, levitating one of my millions of books in front of me, pretending to read.

"I'll help you if you swear to tell me as soon as it's all finished!" the cellist pleaded. I had never actually seen her this desperate to know something.

"I don't know...there's so much work to get done..."

"Vinyl Scratch, we both know that this is just a setup so that I'll do your work for you. I am offering to do half, just because I want so badly to know why your mark is mirrored. I will do no more than half."

"Deal," I stuck out a hoof. "That's like, five billion things out of the way." Octy took my hoof in hers, rolling her pretty lavender eyes. Celestia, how I loved her eyes.

"There's not that much. I'll take the science and math stuff. You still have to do History, Musical Theory, and Equestrian Ancient Languages."

"Octy, you are a lifesaver." I sighed, pulling half of the mountain of work towards me. "Seriously, I don't know where I would be without you."

"Knowing you, prison seems like the best bet. That or some random stallion's bed. Or mare, considering." I gave Octy a shove, trying not to hurt her. The 'random stallion's bed' comment was too close to home for me, but I tried to shake it off. It was a long time ago, and it didn't matter anymore. It wouldn't matter, because it would never happen again. I had Octy, even if she didn't really know she was mine yet.

"You said your mom used to play you a lullaby." I looked to the cello that Octy kept in the room. It wasn't as nice as the one she had for class, but it was still pretty expensive. "Could you maybe play it for me sometime? You don't have to, but maybe I can remix it like I did with Palladio..."

"I'll play it after exams are over, as a reward for you trying so hard," Octy promised. Her face lit up in a sweet smile and I had to force myself not to lean in and kiss her. Her mane was slightly disheveled from just being alive and moving around. Her coat was perfect and glossy. I found myself just staring at her for what felt like hours.

She doesn't like you. Get that through your head. Find another mare. Somepony else will have to like you because Octavia will never be your marefriend.

"I know," I said aloud. Octy looked at me with her head cocked to one side.

"Pardon?"

"I know the answer to this question," I said quickly. "San Stallitonio won its independence from Mexicolt." Octy didn't answer, but I could tell she wanted to facehoof. I gave her a cheesy grin, and, sure as Celestia bringing up the sun, her hoof met her face in an act of embarrassment.

"Read your book," she said with a roll of her eyes. I propped the book in front of me and stared blankly at the pages, trying to learn something. When that didn't work, I levitated my shades from the bedroom and put them on so I could watch Octy do my homework. The little quirks that made her Octy were more obvious when she thought nopony was watching her. The way her hoof tapped the table as she read. The way her tongue poked out the left side of her mouth while she wrote, and out the right side while she thought what to write. When she wasn't watching her appearance, she was a real pony. She had imperfections that made her perfect. She had flaws that created something beautiful. She wasn't Octavia Philharmonica, the prestigious Canterlot mare. She was Octy, the perfectly imperfect mare.

I could have watched her study all day, with no complaints, but for some reason Celestia had decided to curse me with eternal bad luck. Just as I was getting into a nice rhythm of tapping my hoof in harmony with hers (which is pretty hard since the table doesn't change pitch), somepony banged on our door.

"I'll get it," I jumped up from the table and lifted my glasses to the top of my head so they were resting on my horn. I pulled the door open with a small stream of magic and turned my head to the side.

"Who're you?" I asked. The pony in front of me was light brown earth pony stallion with a black mane and tail. His eyes were green, and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to smash me into the ground and grind me up into a bloody DJ carpet.

"Is Octavia here?"

"Who're you?" I said again. "We didn't get any information about you coming down here."

"I would like to see Octavia, if she is here," the stallion said again, refusing to answer my question.

"Octy! Some pony is here looking for you!" I called, not breaking eye contact with the stallion at the door. We gave each other death glares until Octy trotted up beside me.

"Hello, father," she said calmly. "I was wondering when you would be paying us a visit."