Lyra grumbled again as she double checked her watch, the mint-haired lyrist cursing colorfully under her breath. The elevator doors finally opened, admitting the fidgety musician to the quiet hallway. Quickly making her way down the hall and around the bend, Lyra paused at the correct door before pounding on it, irritated.

"Damn it, Scratch! Open the door!"

After long moments of stillness on the other side of the door, Lyra fumbled with the keys in her pocket, fingers angrily flipping through them before finally revealing the proper key. With an air of defiance, Lyra slid the key into the lock and turned before pulling it out and doing the same with the deadbolt. Finally granted access, Lyra pushed on the door, thankful Vinyl hadn't used the chain. Charging quickly through the apartment, Lyra slipped inside the DJ's dark, quiet bedroom, golden eyes surveying the peacefully slumbering Vinyl with barely controlled disdain.

The night owl DJ lay sprawled across her mattress, body almost half on the floor as she snored gently, wild blue-streaked hair seemingly more untamed in her state of rest. The black sports bra she wore left little to the imagination, though the rest of her was tucked away from sight. Lyra tapped her foot anxiously, eyes roaming the form of her sleeping best friend before her ire grew too substantial. Approaching the snoozing woman, Lyra stopped just short and knelt down, mouth hovering just near Vinyl's rarely-headphoneless ears.

"SCRATCH, FRONT AND CENTER."

Easily rousing from her slumber, Vinyl stretched her arms above her head, her knuckles brushing the floor at her awkward angle. Sleepy carmine eyes peaked open at the loud intrusion, seemingly unfazed by the outburst. Smiling up at her best friend, Vinyl stretched her back, allowing her body to slip from the bed to the floor, the blue sheets wrapping around her pale legs as she settled on the hardwood.

"Mm, mornin', Lyr."

Lyra stood back up, her angry eyes staring down at the still slumbering Vinyl, temper sizzling just below the surface.

"Vinyl, seriously. Get your ass up, we have lunch plans with Symphony and Fred about the dinner at the Castle! You know they both hate when anyone is late going anywhere!"

From the floor, Vinyl grumbled before rolling on her back and absently started moving her legs to rid herself of the sheet she had become so inexplicably trapped within.

"Keep your shirt on, Imma get there 'ventually."

Rolling to her knees, Vinyl wiped a lazy hand down her face before finally standing to her full height, the sheet sliding slowly down the rest of her legs. Out of reflex, Lyra's eyes skipped downward to the sheet as it fell before finally dragging back up to the mirthful eyes of the DJ.

"Last time I checked, ya had to be dating me to eyesex me that hard, Heartstrings."

Lyra's eye twitched before she lashed out, hands spinning Vinyl toward the bathroom to help speed up her morning preparations.

"Go. Now. We have to be there at 12 and it's already 11."

Vinyl swatted her away before continuing on her own, the jockey slamming the door behind her for effect. Unamused, Lyra shook her head before looking around the room. Out of habit, she picked up the sheet and threw it haphazardly across the bed; before it settled, the lyrist was walking around the bed to tug at the heavy curtains, allowing sunlight to filter through the glass. Walking back around the bed, Lyra approached the bedroom door and opened it before venturing out to the large living room of Vinyl's apartment.

The space was clean and organized in a Vinyl-centric way, giving way to the intense passion Vinyl had for music and things of the like. A large, covered piece sat off to a corner of the vast room, seemingly untouched, but kept with utmost care. Her golden eyes scanned the room some more, her sights taking in the large speakers and equipment that dominated a good deal of the room. Few pictures littered the colorful decor, but the mint-haired woman knew of their importance.

Distracted by a noise, Lyra flicked her eyes toward the bedroom, focus landing on the DJ as she shuffled out of the hallway, phone clasped in her lips and her spare boot in a free hand. The trademark purple glasses sat delicately over wild bangs, unwavering. The plain black button-up the jockey wore hung open, revealing her new form of under attire and the mirrored, bridged eighth notes that adorned her pale hip. Smiling against her better nature at the moment, Lyra chuckled as she took in the sight of her friend.

"You look positively radiant this morning, V."

Looking up from beneath her wild, two-tone bangs, Vinyl smiled around her phone. She slid her foot into the remaining boot, slamming it against the floor to help force her foot inside. Bending down, she quickly tied to black laces on her favorite pair of blue boots before straightening to look at the other musician, a smile forming around the device as it fell from full lips.

"Do I look okay enough for our dainty violinist, Lyra? Or should I change?"

Unperturbed at the sarcasm, Lyra did a quick check of the DJs appearance, mostly pleased at her attire.

"Well, if you put your boobs away and wear a less obnoxious belt, take out the double studs in your eyebrow... and maybe you could skip the sunglasses... oh, and if you could totally not wear blue boots in view of the high societies at D'Urberville's, we'd be golden."

Crinkling her nose in mock understanding, Vinyl approached her old friend and ruffled the white-striped hair, causing a mild growl to bubble from within Lyra at the action.

"So in other words, you want me to go be Vinyl Scratch without being Pon-3? No can do, good buddy, we're a packaged deal."

Lyra smiled at the DJ and tugged at the hem of the still open button-down before her eyes flicked down to the small piano charm that hung on a chain just above the DJ's chest. Without a thought, Lyra reached up, her fingertips gently brushing the smooth surface of the charm, face pensive. Sensing the shift, Vinyl gently clasped her hand around Lyra's, smile warm.

"Besides. Mom wouldn't have cared what I wear in front of those guys. They're just high society players, not actual human beings."

Snapping out of the trance she had unknowingly fallen into, Lyra shook her head before nudging the DJ and pushing back toward the door.

"You are so good at wasting time. But we need to go, now."

Vinyl smiled devilishly before raising her arms, face a mask of innocence.

"Oh, come on, Lyra! You just can't keep your hands off me and my sexy bod, don't pretend you hate it. Now just come fondle me so we can continue with our day like civilized adults. Come on, come lay some love on me."

Lyra stood perfectly still, eyes burning their way through Vinyl's skull at the comment as she continued to smile. The DJ still remained, arms outstretched, shirt hanging open to reveal the impossibly pale skin and the music note marring the perfect curve of slender hips. Taking only one step forward, Lyra crossed her arms before leaning forward on her toes, golden eyes fiery.

"Button up your shirt before I take it off you and force you to go in your bra. Now. Let's. Go."

Vinyl, attempting to quell the chuckle bubbling its way up, quickly shrugged out of her shirt and tossed it at Lyra before skirting around her and disappearing into the hallway, a loud laugh echoing behind her retreat. Growling, Lyra turned and bolted out the door, slamming it behind her as she furiously waved the black garment at the hysterical jockey.

"Knock it off!!'

Lyra casually opened the door the large restaurant and slid inside, pausing only for a moment to allow Vinyl to rejoin her before nodding toward the maître d'. Walking as quickly as she dared in such an atmosphere, Lyra picked her way around tables before her eyes finally landed on the violet-haired socialite that sat with a stern-looking gentleman. Lyra slowed only slightly, intent on keeping up her outer calm. Finally being recognized, the violet-haired woman looked up, teal eyes catching the dancing lights of the restaurant.

"Lyra! Vinyl!"

The violinist stood up and met the other two as they approached, pausing to throw her arms around the lyrist as her smile grew in size. Once slipping free of Lyra, Symphony turned to Vinyl, nose crinkling in delight at seeing the DJ.

"Scratch, you look incredible."

The DJ smiled and leaned forward, wrapping the diminutive woman in a quick hug as the jockey reached down to place a quick peck on her cheek.

"How's it hangin', Strings. Good to see ya."

The man stood quietly at the table, green eyes roving over the newcomers with glittering intrigue. Noticing Vinyl's approach, he offered his hand, smile richly sparkling.

"Hello, I'm--"

"Freddie Horseshoepin, the pianist. I've seen you play."

Vinyl slapped her hand in his and shook firmly, reveling in his surprise. He cleared his throat before turning to greet Lyra with a gentle handshake. As the quartet took their seats, the bright green eyes of the pianist landed upon the DJ once more.

"You know of my work?"

Vinyl, who had slid up her glasses and popped open a menu, peaked at him, eyes mischievous.

"Yeah. Went to a show with you and Parish headlining. That and I've seen you around some other events. You played at the Gala, right?"

He huffed, his shoulders bouncing as if to shake off a heavy coat. He straightened the tie he wore before leveling the DJ with a withering gaze.

"If you please, I'd rather not talk about that degrading piece of showmanship. Why, that childish little mistake nearly cost me my career as a serious pianist! And that pink-haired--"

Lyra cleared her throat in that moment, sensing the sour turn of the conversation and Vinyl's inability to remain quiet where her friends were concerned. Instead, she cautiously patted the back of her friend's hand before turning to regard the equally nervous violinist.

"So, Symphony... Where's your girl Octavia?"

At hearing the name, Vinyl broke off the stare she had pinned the pianist with and focused on the violet-haired woman.

"Yeah, wasn't she supposed to come?"

Symphony sighed heavily at the question before taking a long swallow of her drink. After a moment, her teal eyes flicked between the two before she resolved herself to explain.

"Well, in all actuality, yes. She was supposed to attend, as she has been asked to perform at the Charity event at the Castle... But the events of the Gala have painfully destroyed her confidence in herself and her music. From what she tells me, she hasn't touched or even seen her cello since that night."

Vinyl frowned before absently closing her menu and leaning forward, carmine eyes serious.

"Symph, the Gala was months ago. Haven't you talked to her about it?"

The teal-eyed violinist huffed and crossed her arms, though the crease in her forehead betrayed her distressed emotion at the topic.

"Yes, of course. I've done everything I could to get her to play. She simply insists that she cannot. Why, I haven't the slightest."

Frederick chuckled, drawing the focus toward him. He paused a moment before his molten emerald orbs flicked between the women.

"If you ask me, Symphony, Octavia never had the gall to make it far in this business. She attempted an air of confidence, but really she never gathered enough gusto to work the classical circuit. I knew it was only a matter of time before the fair Octavia Melody had had enough of the pressures associated with being a classical artist."

Symphony's face reddened at the comment, her teal eyes dilating as she opened her mouth to speak. Vinyl, however, was first to respond.

"Says the asshole who blamed the flub you made at the Canterlot Festivus on Nandermane. No thanks, pal. I'm out."

She stood beside the already anticipatory Lyra and the uncertain Symphony before pinning him with a tumultuous glare. She tossed her menu on the table before leaning forward on her palms, fiery gaze level with the white-haired pianist's.

"And another thing? If you think you're playing this event, you're sadly fucking mistaken. I will not have the memory of Camille Violoncelle besmirched by some pompous tightwad like you."

With that, she pushed off from the table and slid her glasses over her eyes. Turning her head toward the waitress that stopped awkwardly just a few feet away, Vinyl nodded her head.

"Sorry about that, hun. We're not having anything."

The DJ turned and walked easily out of the building, leaving the seething Frederick alone at their table. Once out the doors, she walked the few steps to reconnect with the two remaining musicians, jaw tight with irritation. Symphony regarded her seriously, eyes haunted.

"You did go easy on him, didn't you? I have dinner plans with him, Beauty, and Parish later, and I don't want to deal with a pissy Fred."

"Yeah, I went easy on him. But I'm not having him perform at the dinner. I'm not going to deal with his damn attitude all night, I just don't have it in me."

Lyra nudged the DJ before regarding her.

"You still have some time to find a replacement piano player, V. Don't worry, we'll figure it out. I'm sure a bunch of pianists would jump at the chance to play the event."

Vinyl nodded, though her frown deepened.

"I'm not really worried about the piano, I'm more concerned that I might not get Octavia. Symph, can you find out where she is? Maybe I can talk to her or something."

Lyra snorted, unable to help herself.

"Yeah, Scratch, she's gonna be super excited to see a random DJ waltz up to her and lecture her on the importance of playing the cello. You know, I think I'd pay to see that. Octavia would probably faint just looking at you and your hair, not to mention those glasses."

Vinyl slipped off the offending purple lenses before narrowing her eyes at the lyrist, pierced left eyebrow disappearing into wild bangs.

"Hey, Heartstrings, just because I'm hotter than you doesn't mean you get to be a bitch about it. I happen to have awesome people skills, especially concerning the high society crowd."

Symphony interjected, her own smile threatening to split her lips in amusement.

"Octavia is a high tea and crumpets kind of girl, I think you would have an adverse effect on her. Just because you've tasted the sweet elite doesn't mean she wouldn't react negatively to your persona. She's as nice as the next girl, but she's also society's child. She gets all of her hoity-toity behavior directly from the hydra she calls a mother."

Vinyl rolled her eyes before perching her beloved glasses just above her forehead.

"No faith, ladies. Just find out for me and I'll take it from there."

Symphony giggled before fishing free her phone from her purse, her thumb scanning through her contacts until she landed over the cellist in question. Pausing a moment, she put the phone to her ear and waited.

"Hello, Symphony."

"Hey, Octavia. What are you up to? I missed you at the luncheon today."

"Oh, I'm just having some tea at Tasse de Thé, contemplating taking a trip to the Harwan. Maybe they'd let me in again, just for old time's sake."

"Octavia, you know you can just play again. No one's holding the Gala--"

"Maybe one day, Symphony. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later."

The phone call ended abruptly, causing Symphony to sigh deeply. She sensed the upset in the cellist's voice, knowing turning down an invitation to play at the Charity Event weighed heavily on her. Her teal eyes passed between Lyra and Vinyl, resolute in their upset.

"She's right up your alley this time, Vinyl. She'll probably take a trip to the Harwan after her tea. She visits there often, just to wander around the stage. It kills me sometimes."

Lyra frowned before moving forward to gently rub the violinist's arm, offering her silent support. The violet-haired woman nodded her thanks to the mint-haired lyrist before turning to regard Vinyl once more.

"Maybe you could do something to get her out of this funk, who knows. But I've got to get back inside. Considering Frederick didn't leave yet, he's probably just been sitting there stewing. I'll do damage control, but I won't give in to him."

She turned to wrap Lyra up in a hug before stepping into Vinyl, her body melting for a moment against the blue-haired DJ.

"Take care. I'll be seeing you both again soon."

She pulled away, and with a final look, slipped back inside.

Vinyl then turned on her heel and began walking down the street toward her home, preventing Lyra from properly addressing the DJ. Annoyed, the lyrist walked quickly, moving just enough to stop the DJ in her tracks with a well-placed hand to the chest.

"V, where are you going?"

"Home, to get my keys to the Harwan. Where are you going?"

"I was going to see if you wanted to go and talk to Octavia together."

Vinyl smiled before swatting the hand off her chest. "No, Lyr, I think I got this. B's shop is close by, why don't you stop by there and get me some caramel squares to take home later?"

She smiled and stuck her tongue out, the metal ball of her tongue ring catching the light of the afternoon. Lyra frowned at the gesture, her hand skimming her hair in thought.

"Do you think it's such a good idea to talk to Octavia?"

"Why wouldn't it be? We're both musicians, maybe I can offer insight that the other high society boneheads just don't have."

The blue-streaked DJ ducked around Lyra and attempted to walk faster before Lyra snagged her wrist.

"V... Watch yourself."

Vinyl turned back around, large smile playing on mischievous lips.

"It's just a crush, Heartstrings, relax."

Smiling nervously, she finally released the DJ and watched as she marched down the street to disappear behind a corner. Sighing deeply, Lyra ran a hand across her eyes and turned on her heel, feet taking her in the direction of the candy shop.

Vinyl pushed into her apartment, cellphone tucked between her shoulder and ear.

"Yeah, Dad, I know. I told you, I'm not having that asshole perform at mom's thing. I don't have time for his ego."

"Vinyl, love, to you? Everyone's an asshole."

She heard the humor in his voice and smiled at it, pleased he wasn't upset.

"I'll get somebody, don't worry. For now, I'm gonna go butter up Octavia. She's been reclusive since the Gala incident with Pinkie."

"I heard. Best of luck, kiddo, I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dad."

She hung up the phone and slipped it back in her pocket before blowing out a strong sigh. She lifted her hands to unbutton the shirt she wore before sliding it from her shoulders and tossing it over her elbow before absently shaking her hair. Guiding herself down the hallway, she stopped at her door, pushing it open with a booted foot before slipping easily inside. She tossed the shirt over her shoulder toward the hamper, pleased to see it disappear into the open container. Approaching her closet, she pulled at the top drawer and fished out a white tank before slipping it on, finding comfort in the familiar weight.

Turning around, the DJ approached her side table and slid open the top drawer, plucking out the small set of keys that rested peacefully in the wooden haven. The jockey headed toward the door before pausing, carmine eyes turning to look back at the messy bed. Without thinking, Vinyl approached the queen sized bed and made it, neatly tucking the sheet in and folding down the covers. Pleased, the DJ left the room, leaving the door cracked in her wake. Upon entering the living room, Vinyl made a beeline for the coffee table and picked up her earbuds, her fingers nimbly placing the rubber stops in their rightful place before heading for the exit. Locking the door in midstride, Vinyl clicked the door shut behind her and continued downstairs, her journey stopping for a moment in the elevator as it descended the few floors to the lobby.

Once inside the lavish downstairs, she nodded her head to the doorman who tipped his hat in response, a large grin shaping his young face. Vinyl pushed open the glass doors and stepped back into the sunlight, her fingers playing with the audio settings on her phone as she connected her headphones and slid the device back into her pocket. A smooth bass soon greeted her, allowing a cheshire grin to twist her mouth and her head to bob sensuously with her newest tune. Hailing a cab, Vinyl was shocked as one stopped almost immediately. Once inside, her sunglassed focus landed on the driver, her chin tipping in direction.

"The Harwan, please."

Octavia sighed as she ran her hands over the cloth armrests of her chair. She had been sitting in the empty theatre hall for what felt like hours, though she was aware it had only been less than one. She fidgeted, her mind recalling the horrible emotion she had felt that night at the Castle all those months ago. Her throat almost closed at the aspect, the intense feeling stealing her breath with its icy fingers. Feeling compelled to pace, Octavia bounced out of her front row seat and began to pace before the stage, mind racing.

Swallowing her despair, Octavia turned her attention to the stage, her feet unknowingly moving her toward the side steps that led to the massive platform. Quietly, Octavia slipped into the shadows, her muscle memory taking her the well-travelled path to the steps. With ease she climbed them and stood just behind the curtain, her teary amethyst eyes trained on the shiny floor of her favorite venue. Slowly, she moved forward onto the polished floor of the stage, the click of her heels echoing loudly in the empty space.

The cellist stopped just beside the piano that sat on stage just outside the halo of light, her bare fingers moving up to dance along the silky black surface of the grand piano. Her eyes lost focus as her mind replayed the shows she had performed on that very stage, the pain of those memories threatening to spill over into the tears currently stinging her eyes.

"You know it's just a piano, right?"

Upon hearing the voice, Octavia snapped her head around, mulberry eyes focusing on the blue-haired DJ hovering near the front row of seats in the auditorium. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, eyebrows knitting in concentration.

"Can I help you?"

Vinyl walked into the light, a grin tugging at her lips.

"You're Octavia, right?"

"I am. I suppose you've come to laugh at me, is that it? Well, you can forget it, I won't stand here and--"

Vinyl held up her hands, the motion ceasing Octavia's hurried exit of the stage.

"Whoa, calm down. I'm not here to laugh at you, promise."

"Then who are you?"

"I know your friend Symphony, if that helps."

"Symphony Strings? How could someone like you know someone like her?"

Vinyl chuckled and walked forward, her bespeckled gaze never leaving Octavia. She disappeared for a moment before reappearing on the opposite side of the stage, her hands up in a sign of peace.

"Oh, I've been around. I know most of the Orchestra, as a matter of fact."

Octavia eyed her suspiciously as she crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to hide her discomfort. Her eyes looked Vinyl up and down, the emotion in them well hidden from the DJ.

"And you are?"

Vinyl smiled and walked a few more steps before stopping to reach her hand out. She smiled again, attempting to reassure the other woman.

"The name's Vinyl Scratch, or Pon-3. Depends who you talk to."

Octavia looked at the hand, uncertain. However, her societal upbringing refused to allow the dismissal of the gesture, and she walked the two steps to shake the DJ's hand. She receded shortly after, eyes never leaving the strange form. Vinyl, to her credit, took the scrutiny well as she offered a small smile as comfort. Octavia again crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing once more at the DJ's presence. Vinyl took the initiative, her mouth opening to speak.

"I heard you're done with playing the cello. How true is that?"

Octavia huffed and grasped tightly at her upper arms, an unwanted chill skittering down her spine.

"Though it's of absolutely no concern of yours, the statement is implicitly true. I feel as though I no longer deserve the right to play."

Vinyl was slightly taken aback at the tone in which the cellist responded, her heart instantly reaching out to the hurting musician. Still, Vinyl remained calm, the small smile still present on her lips.

"And if I could ask, why are you giving it up?"

Octavia shot her eyes back up and rested on the large purple lenses currently looking back at her. She couldn't make out the reasoning behind the situation, and a voice in her mind whispered negativity in her ear, adding to her unease. Her face twisted in anger, normally placid eyes igniting.

"Surely you have heard the news of the Gala and that horrible display of the uncivilized mingling with the upper class."

Vinyl's smile only grew at the information, her brain casting aside the mild jab at her favorite party girl.

"I didn't hear about it, per say, but I was there."

Octavia torched the DJ with a withering glare, her eyes mixing dangerously with her outrage and inner turmoil.

"Surely you can understand my predicament. I can't even show my face around this city anymore. My biggest critics were there that night, forever blacklisting me to the Elite of this town. To put it plainly, my career is over."

Vinyl shook her head, her feet moving a step closer to the cellist.

"You weren't the only one on that stage, if I can remember. Beauty, Frederick and Parish were also there. Are they blacklisted, too?"

The cellist focused on the DJ, the tears she felt earlier attempting to reappear. She shook her head, a manicured hand moving up to sweep away the black locks from her shoulders. The mental reliving of that moment sat painfully in her chest, causing a potent nausea to swirl in the deepest recesses of her soul.

"That's different."

Vinyl raised a pierced eyebrow, perturbed.

"It's not different, Octavia. You just lost your nerve. And if you like, I'd be more than happy to help."

The raven-haired woman stared at the DJ, face twisting in a hideous mask of anger and shock.

"I don't even know you. I don't take well to your street-walking kind, either. Now if you please, vacate the stage and leave me to my misery."

Octavia turned toward the piano and approached before collapsing on the piano bench, tears again stinging her eyes. Vinyl waited for a moment, the humor of the cellist's comment tickling her intrigue. Slowly, she approached the cellist before she stood just before her, hidden eyes roaming the dejected form of the musician.

"I want you to play right now because when you play, it's one of the most incredible sounds I've ever heard. I'm not going to sit idly by and let that talent go to waste because you lost your confidence. Got me?"

Octavia looked up, eyes ringed red. She shook her head, defiance strong.

"You don't know anything about me. And I'd be hard pressed to think that someone like you even knows anything about classical music. Please, just leave me alone."

Vinyl knelt before her, her body twisting so she could peek at Octavia from below the halo of black hair she hid within.

"I know that you play with heart, and that's more than most musicians in your line of work. I'm going to get the cello from the back, and you are going to play it."

With that, Vinyl stood and approached the rear curtains before disappearing between them. For long minutes, Octavia sat in the silence of the venue, heart aching in her chest. The rustle of fabric caught her attention, her eyes turning toward the noise against her will. Her eyes took in the sight of Vinyl as she carried the large case and a chair, the cellist's emotional pain slightly ebbing away. She stood reflexively as Vinyl placed the chair and then sat down the case before kneeling to undo the snaps. Octavia felt herself drawn to the large instrument, a familiarity building in her chest as her eyes raked over the polished body of the house cello.

Vinyl lifted the large instrument before refocusing on Octavia. After a moment, the jockey smiled and offered the instrument. Octavia reached up before hesitating, her eyebrows twitching with heavy thought. Finally, she closed the space between them and clasped the neck of the cello, the familiar feel of the wood under her hands making her tingle with forgotten energy. Vinyl knelt again before plucking free the bow and handing it over to the silent Octavia. Bending a third time, the blue-haired DJ clicked the case closed before hefting it out of the way to lean against the piano.

"Just one song."

Octavia breathed deeply before beginning the slow approach to the chair that sat lonely at center stage. She sat down gracefully and positioned the cello to rest against her at the perfect angle, her body falling into its normal stance. The foreign cello felt strange in her hands, the weight just slightly different from her own. She arranged herself, forcing her tense muscles to relax. Bringing the bow upwards, she felt a tremble in her hand, an alien feeling to her when holding the familiar instrument. She again attempted to bring up the bow but faltered, a growing strain morphing into a slight panic that welled up within her ribcage.

The cellist squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to kill the fear that tickled the back of her mind as her memories of the Gala renewed with vigor in their onslaught. Her bow hand dropped as she leaned her chin on the bridge of the instrument, an unearthly defeat settling in over the musician.

Vinyl, from her position just on the cusp of light, frowned. She walked toward the piano and sat down, her hands moving to lift the cover before her fingers gently tapped the keys. After a moment, she looked up to see Octavia eyeing her strangely, her lavender eyes brimming with raw emotion. Vinyl smiled reassuringly before cracking her knuckles.

"Play what you feel."

Her voice was barely a whisper that was covered a moment later by a soothing melody coming from the piano. Vinyl closed her hidden eyes as she played, the notes flowing from her easily, her fingers dancing nimbly across the white and black keys. Her head weaved in time with the music, the notes cascading across her subconscious with perfected grace. Octavia, upon hearing the soothing tune, closed her eyes as well, her mind sorting through the many songs in her repertoire, her hands going up to play on their own accord.

Gently, the cellist played slowly at first before gaining courage, the enchanting music from the piano backing her own confidence. As the second passed, Octavia's fervor increased, the tone of the music shifting to deepen, the melody pulsing free of the instrument as Octavia passed with sure, easy strokes. So enthralled with her music, the cellist had failed to notice the piano ebbing away before finally ceasing, allowing Vinyl to look over Octavia with a contagious smile.

For long minutes, Octavia played passionately, the song spilling forth encompassing her entire focus. Eventually, the song wound down, and as the final note played, Octavia opened her eyes to the applause from the DJ behind her. Red-faced, the cellist turned to regard the jockey.

"I hadn't realized you had ceased your playing or I myself would have ceased as well."

Vinyl shook her head, her smile growing brighter as she leaned her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow perched on the piano.

"I wouldn't have let you stop. How do you feel?"

Octavia paused for a moment, her eyes shifting with her thoughts.

"I feel... light. I didn't think I'd ever feel it again."

Vinyl nodded and stood, pushing the bench back with her legs before closing the lid of the piano. She approached the cellist before stopping just beside her, her sunglass-ridden eyes scanning the still flushed Octavia.

"Do you think you can honestly quit?"

"No, I... I don't know. I'm still so very uncertain. But it simply feels marvelous to play again. I've craved my cello with such fervor, but my fear was too daunting."

The cellist looked up, her eyes taking on a new emotion as she looked at the other musician.

"You play the piano-- that song... did you write it?"

Vinyl shrugged, smile mysterious.

"Yeah. I know my way around some tunes."

"It helped. I don't think I would have been able to begin without it. So thank you."

Vinyl nodded before holding out her hand, waiting patiently as the cellist unfurled from the instrument and handed it back to the musician; Vinyl carried the cello back to the case and slipped it inside before bringing the case over to Octavia. The raven-haired woman handed over the bow and watched as Vinyl carefully packed up the large instrument. Vinyl lifted it and headed back toward the curtains, intent on returning the cello to the storage area. Reflexively, Octavia followed.

"How did you get the cello?"

Vinyl absently waved her free hand before slipping through the heavy curtains, stopping to keep them open for Octavia before continuing onward toward the back.

"Oh, my uh, friend's dad owns the place. I borrow her keys from time to time and sneak around. I used to play here a lot, but with the DJing picking up, I haven't had too much time. I miss it, it's peaceful."

Vinyl reached for her keys as she stopped at the proper door, her hands moving to prop the cello up against the door. Unlocking the massive door, she pulled, opening it up just enough to slip inside. She disappeared for a moment as she returned the cello before reemerging and locking the door behind her. Both women headed back toward the stage, an easy silence between them. As they passed through the curtains once more, Octavia turned a serious eye to the blue-haired woman.

"What was your original reason for coming here to the Harwan?"

Vinyl faltered a moment before looking up, the reflective purple lenses she wore catching the bright stage lights.

"Honestly? I wanted to come help you out. You know, one musician to another."

Pleased with the answer, Octavia nodded before setting her eyes forward across the large expanse of seating before them.

"I'm still afraid. I felt so absolutely terrified when I sat down on that chair, and you were the only one here. I don't know if I'll ever shake that feeling... Not knowing-- it's killing me."

Vinyl nodded before turning to face the cellist head on.

"Well, don't worry. We'll work on that tomorrow."

Octavia snapped her head to the side, eyes clouded with confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

Vinyl pulled free a card from her pocket and handed it to the cellist, a smirk shaping her lips.

"What time's good for you? I got a gig later tonight, so I'll probably sleep til like... noon."

Octavia looked at the DJ for a moment before a small smile traced her lips, a small chuckle escaping as her eyes checked over the card.

"Well, Pon-3, I suppose you won't grant me the allowance of declining your invitation?"

"Not a chance."

Octavia thought for a moment before looking over the DJ again, her head nodding after a moment.

"I suppose 1 o'clock then?"

Vinyl offered her hand, intent on finalizing the deal. Octavia shook it firmly, an innate sadness echoing from her eyes. Vinyl bowed gently as their hands released, drawing an embarrassed chuckle from the cellist before she straightened, smile ever present.

"Bring your cello, it'll make you feel better. And now, if you're ready?"

Octavia nodded as they left the stage and headed up the middle row for the exit. Once outside, Octavia squinted before regarding the DJ seriously.

"Tomorrow, then?"

Vinyl nodded before tossing up her hand in a small wave as she turned to walk toward her destination. Octavia looked after her for a long while, eyes focused on the mysterious DJ. After a moment, Octavia smiled and scanned the street before tossing up her hand.

"Taxi!"

Octavia kicked open the door to her apartment a few hours later, her body exhausted but her thoughts buzzing. Kicking off the black heels she wore, she approached her expensive couch and collapsed on it, her breathe shooting upward to move a bang from her face. Lifting her arm above her head, her hand felt around for the phone on the side table before eventually bringing it forward. Scanning the contact list, Octavia paused over the number to her closest friend and pressed dial, waiting patiently for the woman to pick up.

"Oh, hey, Octavia. What's up?"

"Symphony, I had the strangest encounter this afternoon. A DJ with blue, two-tone hair crept up on me while I was in the Harwan... and scared the living daylights out of me. She said she was a friend of yours, is that true?"

"Oh yeah, that's Vinyl... What happened? Everything okay?"

"Yes. Fine, actually. I played the cello today, Symphony..."

Tears unwittingly sprung to her eyes, the thick droplets squeezing free before Octavia could properly react to their presence.

"Wow, Octavia! Vinyl got you over your fear?"

Octavia sniffled, her uncertainty slipping away.

"For the moment, yes. It felt incredible to play. It was strange, the effect she had. I don't even really know her, though she helped me effortlessly. She said she'll work with me again tomorrow. It's so very bizarre."

"Tomorrow? Really? Are you excited?"

"Yes... I think I am. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Congratulations, Octavia. I hope you can get back to it, we all miss you."

"Thank you, Symphony. Good night."

The cellist hung up her phone and crossed an arm over her eyes, smile crinkling her lips. She sprung up suddenly, body humming with nervous energy. She approached the window and slipped it open, the cool night breeze ruffling her thick, black tresses. Leaning on her arms, Octavia closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of the night's cool breeze. After a moment, the lavender eyes opened again, her focus on the city below.

"Until tomorrow, Vinyl Scratch."