Vinyl had a happy beat in her step after running into that filly. …Not that nearly knocking over some kid in the middle of the street was making her feel good. She'd felt that way prior to running into her.

She was actually happy because Club Stirrup’s DJ had just broken his leg.

…Okay, that sounded even worse.

The broken leg thing was a bummer for that guy, but it still made Vinyl’s day. With good old whatever-the-hell-his-name-was incapacitated for the time being, there was a job opening for the first time in years at Ponyville’s only dance club.

So with her usual bravado, she strolled right on into the club, found the owner – or manager or whatever – and a few other employees and proudly declared, “'Sup, bitches. I’m here for the job.”

This was met with blank stares, and the unspoken agreement to kick her out.

Fortunately, Vinyl’s lack of job applying skills was quickly made up for by her amazing DJ-ing skills. She had narrowly been given a chance to display her talent, and blew away the owner.

Literally.

She had turned up the volume on the amps just a little too loud and sent him flying backwards. Luckily, he was unharmed, which was good. If he had gotten a concussion she probably wouldn’t have landed the job.

Vinyl saw her house on the horizon. Unconsciously, she quickened her pace. The cider mug next to her began to lag behind because of this, so she willed it to catch up to her.

She’d be lying if she said her earlier encounter with that random filly hadn’t been weird. After all, what kid tries underage drinking and this uses such a lame excuse to get out of it? Vinyl eyed her cider mug and snorted.

“Body-switching potion,” she internally snickered. “What bullshit.”

Stopping at her front door, Vinyl refocused her magic. The keyhole on the door glowed in an azure aura as she began maneuvering the tumblers on the inside. The lock clicked open after a brief pause. She smiled, grateful for never needing to carry around a key.

When she pushed against the door her effort was met with a heavy resistance. After shoving harder, Vinyl was able to get the door to budge slightly. Squeezing her head through the interstice, she saw what the problem was.

Her sound system was blocking the door.

“Of all the fricking–” her sentence was cut off by her own grunting when she pushed harder against the door. The equipment on the other side began to budge more and more until Vinyl could finally worm her way inside her house.

"I should've just used the back door again," she grunted with her stomach pressed against the sound equipment. Finally she was inside. “Why the hell did I even put this here?” Vinyl lowered her shades to look around, and noticed the massive mess that was the living room.

Soda cans and empty pizza boxes littered the floor. A few suspicious stains decorated her couch, along with magazines that may or may not have been dirty. The coffee table – or rather, what had once been a coffee table – was flipped over and broken. Scorch marks covered her fireplace and had an empty beer jug where the logs were supposed to go. Lastly, the ceiling fan was slowly rotating overhead; one of the four blades was broken, and the other three were covered in the mutinous pizza slices Vinyl never got to eat.

Most would assume that such a feat of filth could only be attained after an epic and wild party night, but they would be wrong. This was merely the product of the DJ living on her own for two days.

“Oh yeah,” Vinyl said, observing the mess that would have made a more civilized pony faint. “That’s why I moved the turntables. The living room was getting too crowded.”

Choosing to ignore the sight before her, Vinyl went into the kitchen. To say it was in worse condition than the living room would be an understatement. Instead of pausing to take in her other mess, Vinyl merely trudged through it. The fridge door was conveniently open for her already, so she set the cider mug inside and flicked it closed with her magic. When she did, the tiny calendar her roommate kept on the door was made visible to her. Today's date was circled in red, and labeled with the fancy cursive scrawl that her roommate always used.

Vinyl luckily didn’t have to try and read the illegible writing – and thank Celestia for that – because it jogged her memory right away.

“Awesome, Tavi’s coming back today.”

Octavia Melody had been Vinyl's roommate for nearly three years now. They had both arrived in Ponyville around the same time, and being the only two serious musicians in town Octavia thought it would be ‘prudent’ – Vinyl still hadn’t looked up what that word meant – to room together. She had agreed, seeing as it would save money. Not to mention Octavia was crazy hot.

Unfortunately, one week into sharing a house, it became glaringly obvious that Octavia did not swing that way. Vinyl still stuck around despite this, and the two actually became good friends. Sure they had different mannerisms, tastes in music, and contrasting levels of awesomeness – Vinyl’s was much higher than Tavi’s – but they got along just fine.

Currently though, Octavia was away for a massively important audition for the Manehattan Philharmonic. Their first chair cellist had left for reasons Vinyl didn’t care about, and the very second she’d gotten the news Tavi dropped everything, packed up her cello, and dashed off to Manehattan for the hope of auditioning. The only thing she had said was that she’d be back in two days.

It would actually be a relief to have Tavi back. At least she would care enough to clean up the house.

Before Vinyl left the fridge she levitated a pen over and marked tomorrow’s date to help remind her that was her first gig. A banging sound suddenly reverberated through the house, followed by a mare’s groan of annoyance.

“Vinyl Scratch!” a posh and refined voice yelled from outside. The DJ haphazardly flicked away the pen and went back to the front door.

An angry purple eye was glaring at her through the crack of an opening.

“Hey, Tavi, how’s it going?”

“Oh everything’s just dandy, Vinyl,” Octavia deadpanned. “I got off the train after riding it for nine hours straight, lugged my rather heavy cello case through town, got my hoof run over by an orange filly riding a scooter, and when I finally get home with the hope of getting a nap in, I find the door is blocked by your equipment!”

“I have a feeling you’re not as dandy as you say you are.” Vinyl smirked.

“Just move your turntables, Vinyl,” Octavia demanded. She complied, and began tugging at her equipment. With a little help from her magic, Vinyl managed to pull it back enough so Tavi could enter.

“Oh hey,” Vinyl said as Tavi walked through the door. “Can you do me a huge favor and not freak out when you see the living room?”

Octavia blinked. “What did you do?”

“Nothing much,” Vinyl replied.

“Is there another inebriated harlot lying face down on our floor?” Octavia asked. Vinyl took a second to realize she was talking about the drunken hooker incident.

“No, I told you that was a onetime thing.”

“One time too many,” Octavia mumbled under her breath. “Seriously, what did you do?”

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Octavia sighed. “I have a feeling I won’t be able to keep that promise.”

“Fine.” Vinyl relented to logic. “The living room is a bit of a mess.”

There was a pause as Octavia absorbed this information. “Well, I suppose I expected as much. Can you let me in now?”

Her roommate didn’t sound particularly mad at the moment, so Vinyl stepped aside and allowed her to enter. Octavia took great pains to place her cello delicately off to the side before checking on the living room.

Needless to say, her jaw hit the floor. “Dear Celestia!” she shrieked. Vinyl winced at the assault on her eardrums. “How did you do this in just two days?”

“What can I say? I’ve got skills,” Vinyl remarked. Octavia grunted angrily, and Vinyl sensed she might be too close to crossing the line.

“I’m sorry, Tavi,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have let it get this bad.”

“Well I suppose part of it is my fault,” Octavia admitted. “I should have known better than to leave you on your own for two days while I cavorted about Manhattan.”

“Oh yeah, I meant to ask about that. How did your audition go?”

Octavia smiled. “I’ll tell you, but only if you help with cleaning up this mess.”

Vinyl exerted a groan, but in a playful manner. With a flick of her horn a closet at the end of the hall was opened. Inside was an assortment of cleaning materials that Octavia had stockpiled after her first month of rooming with Vinyl. They each grabbed a garbage bag and some cleaning rags. Octavia opted to bring some disinfectant and a surgical mask to cover her snout. Vinyl rolled her eyes at this and the two began to work.

“So I’ll ask again, how did your audition go?” Vinyl shoved pizza boxes in her garbage bag.

“Fantastic actually. My competition wasn’t exactly staggering, so I think my odds of getting in are very good.” Octavia went to work on some of the stains on the couch which had crusted over. Vinyl heard her gagging through the mask.

“You mean you don’t know if you’re in?”

Octavia shook her head as she scrubbed down the sofa. “They said they’ll mail out the results in a few days.”

“Okay,” Vinyl said.

They worked in silence for the next hour as they cleaned, Octavia because she had nothing more to say, and Vinyl because she couldn’t believe what had been just said.

In all honesty, Vinyl hadn’t actually thought that Octavia would have gotten an audition. After all, hundreds of cellist had probably flocked to Manehattan, so the odds of her actually getting a chance to audition had been slim. Now, Vinyl had learned that not only had Octavia auditioned, but she did well too.

She gritted her teeth. If Octavia got into the Philharmonics, then she’d have to leave Ponyville – and subsequently Vinyl – behind. The thought of losing her friend made her stomach flop around like a fish out of water.

As horrible a pony as it probably made her, deep down Vinyl hoped that the letter Octavia received would be one of rejection.

Immediately after thinking that thought, she bit her lip out of guilt. What the hell, Vinyl? she berated herself. You should be happy for Octavia.

The last piece of ceiling pizza was scraped down by her magic and tossed into the fifth garbage bag of the day.

Octavia finally ripped off her mask as she surveyed their work. “Well that didn’t take too long.”

Vinyl glanced at the small clock – which they had found in the toilet – on the fireplace mantle. “Yeah, I guess so.”

A blue aura enveloped the garbage bag as it was thrown onto the other four in the corner of the room. She decided to remove them some other time, seeing as how Celestia was already lowering the sun.

“Well, I’m starving,” Octavia announced. “How about some dinner?”

“Sounds good to me,” Vinyl agreed. They began walking towards the kitchen, and suddenly Vinyl remembered what a deplorable state it was in. “Tavi, wait!” Too late. Octavia’s purple pupils shrunk to the size of peas at the sight before her.

The following shriek definitely shattered Vinyl’s eardrums.

“I still can’t believe you let it get this out of hoof,” Octavia reprimanded. Her surgical mask was back on now, as well as some rubber gloves on her hooves. Vinyl really couldn’t blame her this time.

The kitchen had been slowly and painstakingly cleaned – even more so than the living room – until it was somewhat usable again. It took them twice as long too.

“I said I was sorry,” Vinyl said. “Cut me a little slack.”

“I don’t have any slack left to cut for you, Vinyl,” Octavia huffily retorted. “I mean, the inebriated harlot–”

“Just say drunk hooker, Tavi. No point in being fancy when booze is involved.”

Octavia groaned. “Fine. As I was saying, the ‘drunk hooker’ is still your worst ever, but this one gave it a run for its money.”

“I get it, I’m a slob. Geeze Tavi, how many more times do I need to apologize?”

“About twenty more times will do it.”

Vinyl rolled her eyes to this, though Octavia wouldn’t be able to tell through the purple shades on her face.

“I think I know an easier way to get back on your good side.” She smirked. Octavia arched an eyebrow up to her forehead as they tossed the final garbage bag into the massive pile.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Octavia dubiously asked.

“Apple cider,” Vinyl told her. Tavi’s gray ears perked up automatically.

“You didn’t,” she said with a girlish squeak.

“I had to get up crazy early to get it, but yeah, I did.” She trotted over to the fridge and popped it opening, revealing the mug. Octavia’s eyes widened at the sight of her favorite beverage. Vinyl’s teeth showed, as her grin got a little triumphant. “So I take it I’m forgiven?”

Octavia nodded. “You have all my forgiveness.”

Wrapping the mug in her blue magic, Vinyl lifted it out of the fridge and kicked the door shut. “Well then what do you say we crack this bad boy open and get smashed?”

“Not quite the phrasing I would have used,” Octavia murmured. “But sure, I could use a little pick-me-up after a day like today.”

“Awesome.” Vinyl ripped the lid off the mug as Octavia went to fetch some glasses. Looking down into the mug, Vinyl noticed a distinct lack of fizzing from the liquid.

Ah great, don’t tell me it’s gone flat already. Vinyl looked towards Octavia, who was returning with two champagne glasses. Despite Vinyl’s earlier warning of mixing fanciness with alcohol, she let it slide. After all, she was just about to mix Tavi with alcohol.

Vinyl poured them both full glasses, and then set the mug down on the table.

“Cheers?” Octavia offered, extending her champagne glass. Vinyl clinked hers against it, then through back her head and downed the cider in a single gulp.

It tasted… different than regular apple cider. It was definitely still as tangy, but not quite as… apple-y as usual. It was actually pretty hard to stomach, but lucky it slid down Vinyl’s throat before she was subjugated to more of it. The following aftertaste was new as well, combining sour and bitter into a sensation that made her spine shiver.

Octavia noticed the weird flavor as well, based on the face she made. Ever the polite one, she sampled the cider again before bringing up the topic, and she clearly got the same result as the first time.

“Um… Vinyl, are you sure you bought apple cider?” Her friend looked a little woozy. The weird taste must have really done a number on her.

“Yeah, of course. I have no idea why it taste like lizard piss cider instead.” Without warning, her magic gave out and the champagne glass fell to the floor, shattering.

“Vinyl!” Tavi scolded. She seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open, and Vinyl felt herself experience the same problem.

“Sorry,” she bent down to scrape it up, but her legs suddenly felt really wobbly. She took a header onto the kitchen tiles, cutting her cheek on a glass fragment as she did.

“Vinyl…” Octavia trailed off. Vinyl heard a thump and knew that Octavia was on the ground too. She struggled to open her eyes and make sure her friend was all right, but when she did, she found herself staring at her own unconscious body.

What the fu–

Her head slumped over and she was out like a light.

Author's Notes:

And now the fun begins.

Well, fun for us I mean. Octavia and Vinyl on the other hoof are going to being experiencing the exact opposite.