The DJ and The Cellist

Chapter Six

***

"I can't believe it!"

Vinyl watched Octavia pace about the room angrily. The clock was ticking calmly on the wall, showing the dawn of evening. And the shadows, indeed, had begun to fall over the city, crawling in meagre, thin layers over the previously-sunlit sky, prompting the lampposts to wake up from their daily slumber. Vinyl sighed. What could she say? What was there to say? "Tavi, I don't think that freaking out and running away was the best course of action." Good job, Vinyl. Make her feel worthless by reminding her that she'd lost face. Good fucking job.

Octavia didn't seem to care, or even have heard, just reaching the far-off wall and turning round immediately, walkng on. "He! He! He found her - my own sister - and he! He took her in!" To the far-off wall and back again. "He started dating the whore!" To the wall and back again. "I can't believe it!"

"Tavi," Vinyl said meekly, finally. "I don't think your sister is a whore." Even though you've never told me anything about her existence.

"She is." Octavia stopped in place, glaring at the DJ. "She ran away from the family to some God-forsaken farm with some goddamn farmer. Then, she left him for a prospering lawyer in Manehattan. As soon as his firm went bankrupt, she flew to Los Pegasus to marry a dentist. And now she's come here, and she's after Freddie!"

Vinyl sighed. "Tavi, it sounds like you're jealous." I knew from the very beginning this wouldn't work out. Vinyl sighed again. How could she be so blind? She must have known that-

Octavia slapped her DJ on the cheek, bringing the disk-spinner back to reality. "Don't you dare say that, Vinyl Scratch!" With that, Octavia collapsed, crying, just as Vinyl caught her and held her close. "Just... I've known Freddie since childhood," the cellist managed inbetween sobs. "He... He always protected me." Octavia sniffed. "He shared lunch with me when my parents put me on a diet. I owe him my place in the ensemble, and she!" The cellist gulped as she buried her face in Vinyl's chest. "I don't want Fiddles to hurt my friend."

Fiddles, Vinyl mused idly as she held her cellist close, stroking her hair gently. Must be a nickname of some sort. What could she do? What could she do now, especially now, now that she wasn't even sure whether Octavia loved her or... or Frederic was more than a friend to her, even if she herself did not realise that? After all, she's known him way longer than she's known me. Vinyl let out an invisible sigh. What can I do?

All she could do, now, was stroke her girlfriend's hair, soothing her with soft, gentle humming. And she did just that.

***

Frederic Horoshevsky rolled over in his large king-sized bed, unable to sleep.

Fiona was there, by his side, looking at him dreamily in the darkness of the room. Her eyes, piercing him with sick, sour orange. Her lips, senseless, wet, flagrant. Her tone, sultry, sly, humourless. Her body, perfect. Making love to her - that's what making love to Octavia probably felt like. But then again, he wouldn't know. You roll with what you have.

"What are you thinking about, Freddie?" Fiona asked, snuggling closer to the naked man. "I thought I exhausted you well enough, didn't I?~" she cooed merrily.

Your sister. I'm thinking about your sister. "Nothing, darling." Frederic smiled his beautiful, white-teeth smile that attracted so many women - but not Octavia. "Just thinking about this and that. Thinking about how I gathered the courage to ask you out, after all these years."

Fiona giggled. "I still can't believe it. When you showed up on my doorstep, with flowers..." The woman sighed dreamily. "I've been in love with you since our childhood, you know that?" The violinist frowned. "But you were always hanging out with Octavia, and not me."

Frederic pressed his finger against the woman's lips. "Shh. It's in the past. I'm with you now, aren't I?"

"Yes." Fiona tilted her head slightly. "But... How would I know you won't leave me for her?"

She's with Vinyl now. And will always be. Frederic smiled and pecked the woman's lips softly. "Stop this nonsense. Go to sleep." He pondered for a moment. "I love you, Fiona."

The violinist yawned, rolling over, her eyes closed. "I love you too, Freddie."

***

Octavia woke up in the middle of the night.

The feeling was not new to her: she would often wake up at night, for various reasons, not the least of which included natural urges. Now, however, the sensation was quite novel, if only because she actually felt well-rested. The remains of sleep were not tugging at her, and the dream was not clinging at her weary consciousness. She could not even remember her dreams, if there had been any. With a yawn - more automatic than born of lack of sleep or oxygen - Octavia rolled over to look at her girlfriend, this beautiful woman who could always soothe her, always make her feel wanted - and loved. At least, that's what she told herself.

Only Vinyl wasn't there.

Octavia frowned and looked around. She was in her bedroom, and the clock was showing quarter to four. Almost morning, Octavia thought automatically as she got to her feet. She could not remember how she'd got to the bedroom. She could remember, though, the feeling of Vinyl's hands carrying her somewhere and laying her on a soft bed. She could remember the felling of deep, rumbling humming soothing her ears, just as dry, confused lips soothed her heart.

As Octavia walked the corridor towards the kitchen, she heard whispering coming from Vinyl's room. Intrigued - or, rather, automatically - the cellist pressed her ear to the door.

"Hey, God?" Vinyl's voice whispered from behind the door. "I... I know I haven't really talked to you... Or prayed. Or believed in you, honestly." For a while, Vinyl fell silent, and Octavia pressed her ear against the door more violently, her heart beating fast, not in the least in the wake of her eavesdropping. "I mean, I hear that you hate lesbians and heavy drinkers and... That's not really helping, is it?" Octavia couldn't help a chuckle. Vinyl is so... Vinyl. "What I mean is... There's this girl, Octavia." The cellist almost backed down. Almost. "She's a very nice girl. She's beautiful, and kind, and caring. And I love her very much." Octavia's heart fluttered. "But she's confused, and... And I think I'm not the one for her. I think she loves Frederic, and... And I think she's right to love him, and not me. I'm afraid I'm not good enough for her. I can't hold responsibility. I can't be romantic all the time. I can't stay with her when I have to go on tour. Just..." Octavia could hear sobs, her feet urging her to rush into the room and comfort her DJ. "Show her the way, okay? I'll go to church or something. Just watch over her. Help her decide. And... Thanks in advance. Amen."

Octavia stood before the closed door for a while before walking to the kitchen.

Somewhere, the clock struck four.