Vinyl glanced at the grandfather clock in the lounge of her suite as seconds clicked away like the measures on a metronome. Darkness blanketed the sky outside, leaving candles to try and replace the job of the sun, but their effort went mostly in vain. The DJ, for one, overlooked the lack of lighting as she wore her dark goggles despite the dimness.

The faint lighting was hardly on her sprightly mind. Instead flashes of color flared against closed eyelids as the projector in her brain never turned off. Vinyl could picture the scenes of past shows, from the craze to the colors to the crowds. Weeks of forced fasting from concerts – or just good music in general – had brought Vinyl to her knees like a starved wanderer in the desert.

But now the DJ could sense hope rising over the horizon like the moon. The expectancy floated like a scent in the air that, when inhaled in copious amounts, could almost be tasted. The intensity only grew as Twinkle walked out from her bedroom.

An elegant dress saddle adorned Twinkle's spotless, snow-white coat. Her suitemate stared dumbfounded at the frilly attire, and then down at the collection of glow sticks tied around her own neck.

Vinyl reluctantly began, “Uh, Twink?”

Her suite mate returned the confused stare and replied just as slowly. “Y-Yes?”

“What's with all the ritz?”

“Well, it's what I always wear to concerts. I suppose everypony in Bloomburg tends to overdress.”

“Oh, I gotcha, Twink! You're donnin' some Bloomburg swag. I like!”

“Bloomburg... what?” Twinkle peeped as she blushed.

“It's cool, it's cool,” Vinyl said. “I won't judge or anything. It's really throwin' me off, though, to be honest. I mean, who'd have thought the shy mare would be all dressed to the nines? Anyway, you ready to roll?”

Twinkle glanced at the towering clock in the room as Vinyl had over the past fifteen minutes, only the shy mare's glance lacked an element of desperation. The hands signaled eight o’clock, which brought a confused frown to Twinkle's face.

“Don't you think it's a bit... early?” asked Twinkle.

“Psh, early my flank,” Vinyl smirked as she headed for the door. “If this show is anything like the ones you were describing, ponies'll be poppin' up like fans in line for an autograph signing. Let's go!”

In an eager trot Vinyl exited the suite. Twinkle followed hesitantly, unable to voice any further protests. The two made their way from the dormitory over to the main hall, taking the glass corridor to avoid the wintry slush and snow outside.

Frost stuck on the glass between the stone arches of the hall as the two passed through to the foyer. The sight of the winter, though, passed by with hardly a thought given of it as Vinyl could only imagine a roaring concert.

Once in the spacious entrance hall a long line of ponies formed starting from a guarded door in the corner. Vinyl looked back at Twinkle with a smirk and pointed at the extensive queue reaching halfway across the main floor.

“See? Told ya there'd be ponies pourin' in already,” Vinyl said.

As the two trotted over to the line Vinyl realized it consisted completely of well-dressed individuals. Many were even much older than the two, the majority being new faces at the academy. The DJ's eyes shifted from her suite mate to the others with slight unease.

“Look, I'm still trying not to judge or anything here,” Vinyl whispered to her suite mate, “but everypony else waitin' around seems dressed a little to posh for my tastes. Is there something I should know about?”

Twinkle shook her head slowly. “I don't think so. In Bloomburg, this is what everypony wears to any musical venue.”

Vinyl continued to observe in silence as she wondered what sea of a crowd she was diving into. She had never in fact been to Bloomburg before, nor had she heard of concerts in the area. From what the DJ knew, the city was akin to Canterlot, a place she was not all too fond of for various reasons.

If Bloomburg's anything like Canterlot... and the ponies are all dressed up-lookin'... does that mean Twink's takin' me to-?

“What's up, V? Twinkle?” came a familiar mare's voice.

In the midst of the unfamiliar faces emerged two recognizable ones. Colgate and Pokey Pierce sauntered over to the the restless suitemates, interrupting Vinyl's train of thoughts.

“Not much going on right now, Brushie,” the DJ replied. “Just waitin' in line for a sweet show. Do you three know each other?”

“We're all in the shadow magic track,” Twinkle explained.

Vinyl clicked her teeth. “I'll bet it's more fun than the elemental garbage I'm stuck with. I'll never figure out why I ended up there. Heck, I don't even know why I'm still at the academy.”

“Sounds like somepony's having her mid-semester crisis,” Colgate smiled smugly.

Pokey held up a hoof. “Wait, wait, that can't be. We're only three weeks in, right?”

They all paused. Vinyl glanced at the other two mares; each held a look of understanding.

“Anyway,” Vinyl laughed, “Tonight's concert's hopefully gonna turn this frown upside-down. All I'm gonna say.”

Colgate's eyes rolled over the lineup of ponies in which her two friends stood. A collection of well-dressed personages made the lineup look rather smooth. There was a hiccup, however, as Vinyl, wearing her violet glasses and a glow stick necklace, stood out like a beach ball in the snow.

“Looks like it'll be fun,” Colgate remarked sarcastically. “Knock yourselves out.”

“I dunno, Colgate, that doesn't sound like a good idea,” Pokey remarked. “Knowing the concerts V goes to, getting knocked out could be dangerous. They'd trample her!”

“No worries Pokey, I'll party reasonably,” said Vinyl. “But if I dare ask, what are you two up to?”

“I helped get Pokey Pierce to the infirmary,” Colgate replied, to which Pokey turned around to reveal a bandaged bottom. “He sat on some round glass vase thing in the classroom.”

“Sat on a what?” Vinyl laughed as she looked at Pokey's wrapped rear. “How'd that happen?”

“It was crystal clear! I couldn't see it,” Pokey moaned in defense. “Who sets see-through stuff on those little pillows we sit on in class, anyway? It probably that sinister Tri-”

Vinyl suddenly spotted from the corner of her eye movement in the line and jerked her head away from the talk. She watched the dresses and suits moved along with their clone-like models, their steps in mirrored motion. Another pulse passed through the queue.

“It's go time!” Vinyl said with a nod and salute.

“Oh, well have fun at the talent show,” Pokey said with a dopey smile, after which he suddenly yelped.

“Concert,” Colgate corrected after nudging the stallion in the side. “See you guys around!”

The two turned and left, leaving Vinyl and Twinkle to sink back into line. Every minute or two the duo advanced a few steps, until finally they were next. A broad-shouldered stallion Vinyl had spotted earlier stood holding a lengthy piece of parchment and quill. He seemed strangely well-dressed for a bouncer, but his hefty build and deep voice fit the role perfectly.

“Name?” he asked sharply.

“Twinkle,” came the immediate reply.

His checklist floated up to the bouncer's heavy eyes and rolled down the list of names as it had with every guest before. Near the end of the list the scrolling stopped.

The guard nodded his head and lifted his quill as he started to scribble, “Miss Twinkle. Very good. And this is your guest, Miss Viol-?”

“Vinyl,” Twinkle cut in with a squeak. “Miss Vinyl Scratch.”

The DJ stepped forward with a stomp. “Maybe you know me better by... DJ Pon-3?”

With great pride she threw her shimmering cyan mane to the side, flickering the shades of blue in her hair like flowing flames. Her excessive spirit was met only with a stare.

The stallion raised an eyebrow, then returned his attention to the checklist. “She's your guest, I suppose.”

Vinyl growled, “What!? Why you little-”

“Thank you, sir, that's all!” Twinkle cut in as she jumped between the two. “We'll just be on our way.”

Though Vinyl tried to continue the eye-to-eye contact, Twinkle's urge shoved the two into the performance hall before anything more could happen. In time what met the DJ's eyes were rows of cushions lined up all around her. The seating strung across the gentle slope of the floor, with an ornate balcony hanging overhead.

Ditch the pillows and this could make one sick mosh pit.

Encircling the stage was a navy blue curtain glittered with golden constellations. It stretched from the stage all the way up to the ceiling, its silky surface smooth as still waters. The barrier, though impressive, couldn't keep Vinyl's imagination from seeing through the vivid fabric.

The DJ could picture speakers hiding on the left and right parts of the stage, with equipment scattered across the platform. Wires and cords would twist and curve all over the bandstand as lights would hang up above.

Caught staring at the chandeliers above, Vinyl suddenly bumped into Twinkle halfway to the empty front row.

“How's this?” Twinkle asked.

Vinyl glanced around the spacious room. Hardly any of the seats had been filled yet. Though Twinkle had warned Vinyl of her fear of the front, the DJ could hardly contain her excitement.

“A-All right,” Vinyl finally concurred. “We'll do this your way this time. We'll see if you don't move up in time, though.”

As the two shuffled toward the middle of the row Twinkle started beaming in anticipation. Vinyl could feel a similar feeling rising, but she wasn't as ready to show her pearly whites. She was too occupied considering what kind of music she'd be dancing to.

When she scanned the crowd that started surrounding her, Vinyl felt her insides churning. The excitement was blending with confusion, and the result felt like an upset stomach.

“What kind of music did you say this was, exactly?” Vinyl whispered to Twinkle as she scanned over the rather elderly crowd again.

Twinkle tapped her snout in contemplation. “It's, um, what would you would call... awe-inspiring?”

“You mean awesome?”

“That, yes,” Twinkle said. “Regarding what genre, I feel as though you'll-” The lights flickered on and off; Vinyl knew the action was coming, as did Twinkle. “You'll see soon enough!”

Vinyl's heart started beating faster than it ever had in the past few weeks. The only instance it had gotten even remotely close to beating as hard as it was then was when hay fries were suddenly being served in the midst of all the “classy” lunch food.

Everything was set. The curtains would open to reveal the biggest speakers even seen by pony eyes, and a single note would blast away the awkwardness. The seats would migrate toward the back and sides as ponies crowded the stage. Lights would flash all over the walls, reflecting off the chandelier as though it were a crystal ball.

Vinyl felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss?”

The DJ glanced over her shoulder and spotted an old gray mare, wrinkled to the bone, pointing at her neck with a shaky hoof.

“May I please ask you to put out those... lights of yours?”

Vinyl looked down at her glow stick necklace tied around her neck. “You mean these?”

“Yes. It's hard on my old eyes.”

“S-Sure thing, old-timer,” Vinyl answered. She lifted the colorful accessory from around her neck and stuffed it under the cushion on which she sat. “You're aware that if these're a sore sight, the show might give you a seizu-?”

“Shh!” another pony behind hushed, to which Vinyl quieted down immediately.

The curtains began opening from one side to the other, and Vinyl quickly turned around. Seats hooked around the back of stage in rows with music stands set before each one. A spotlight flashed on and highlighted a raised box and podium near the front of the arrangement. To the back was the silver organ stretching up to the ceiling and beyond.

No speakers, no big lights, no cords.

Vinyl felt her heart stop and face freeze as a look of horror locked in. The expression grew worse as musicians began filing in with their instruments. They wielded cellos and violins, oboes and trumpets, and one pony sat before the silver organ. Hoofs tapped against the marble floor in welcoming as one by one the performers sat themselves in their respective spots. Vinyl's frozen gaze then turned into a wide-eyed look of shock.

She brought me to watch an orchestra!?

Everything suddenly became horribly obvious. Vinyl realized all of the signs she had disbelieved in order to remain excited. Worst of all was the fact that Vinyl felt stuck knee-deep in a tough crowd. She'd prefer being stranded in Froggy Bottom Bog than suffer sitting through what she now imagined would meet her ears.

She peered over at Twinkle, who retained her excited gaze. Her flashy dress and formal talk both should have been obvious indicators. Being from Bloomburg had been the concept in question; it quickly became the issue at hand.

What the hay possessed me..?

Defeated, Vinyl let out a drawn-out sigh. She had never willingly been to an orchestrated performance. As a filly she had been forced to go to some; however, in time she made it quite clear that she was as out of place in such musical shows as a palm tree in the tundra. With enough crying and screaming – both before, during, and after the show – Vinyl escaped all future performances.

The present case, however, was a different matter. She plunged head-first into what turned out to be a puddle. Aside from getting her face shamefully soaked, there was not much else to note; that is, until an awfully familiar figure graced the stage front and center with her bold and elegant presence.

The beating hoofs of applause grew louder as the light gray mare prepared her instrument of choice: a sturdy and spotless cello. A disgusted snarl from Vinyl went unheard beneath the pats of praise.

Octavia.

Silence swept the chamber as the conductor made his way front and center. He was a short and stout stallion colored with white and black. Baton raised, he spread his forehoofs outward like an eagle spreading its wings, and the audience fell silent. He turned to face his musicians and tapped his music stand in preparation. As he drew in a large breath to start the show, Vinyl could only hold her own.

The conductor waved the baton downward, then swung it gracefully to and fro. Light plucks on the strings began a soft and steady beat. Vinyl felt as through she were listening to an elementary school band concert.

So... slow...

With all her might she held her complaints behind tightly clenched teeth. In her fight Vinyl peered over at Twinkle, whose eyes gleamed and mouth hung open in utter reverence. She was already lost to the sappy song after it was only seconds in.

Vinyl examined the lines of instrumentalists though the range of vision pained her protected eyes. She gagged at the sight of the bow-ties and other attire the musicians wore to appear 'sophisticated' and 'smart'. The dramatic motions accompanying every single sound was as painful as watching a soap opera.

And the worst of them all was Octavia.

Vinyl had had her fair share of run-ins with the mare, and neither was too fond of the other. They were symbols of their respective musical genres, and so were constantly compared and contrasted. To Vinyl's knowledge, comparing Octavia's sappy string music to her own hoof-tapping tunes was like comparing work to play. For some reason or another, though, there were always a bunch that called her music 'barbaric' or 'unsettling'.

All of a sudden Vinyl spotted Octavia's dainty purple eyes pass right over her. The DJ could spy a smirk cross her smug little snout.

I swear, if that snob gets a solo, I don't think I'll-

Octavia started swaying back and forth, drawing the bow slowly against the strings. The humming resounded through the hall like waves as heavy notes drowned the crowd in a nauseating noise. Sniffles started to emerge in response as the crowd pulled out their hankerchiefs.

The only crying for Vinyl was that going on inside. Listening to such plain, boring notes made her want to break her own ear drums.

The consideration of self-inflicting pain only increased as the featureless piece dragged on and on. Vinyl constantly checked to see if her ears were working as she thought she was hearing repetitions of the same wishy-washy verses and chorus. But finally, after a prolonged close, the song arrived at its end.

“D-Did you like it?” Twinkle whispered with a gleeful grin.

With clenched teeth, Vinyl grumbled, “I'm game for something a little more... catchy.”

The music started again, and right off the bat Octavia was at it with another lengthy solo. When Vinyl's eyes painfully crossed the stage again she suddenly spotted the cellist staring back at her.

A devilish smirk crossed Octavia's face as she slowly dragged her bow against the strings. The grin only grew as she closed her eyes and lifted her head in dramatic fashion. Vinyl felt her face grow unbearably hot. She tried to control herself with a stretch of her neck, but when the tension wouldn't leave the frustration squeezed out an explosion from her lungs.

“FOR CELESTIA'S SAKE!” she screamed. “YOU CALL THIS MUSIC!?”

The entire orchestra stopped. All eyes fell upon Vinyl as she sat covering her ears. The burning sensation that covered her skin turned into an ice cold chill. In panic she looked to Twinkle, whose joyous, dancing eyes had stumbled and fallen in fright.

“If you'll excuse me, miss,” came a familiar deep voice from the aisle. Vinyl glanced past Twinkle to see the bouncer standing at the end of the row. “I must ask you to leave.”

Vinyl, still chilled, glanced at everypony around her, from Twinkle to the crowd to the orchestra. She spotted a faked look of shock on Octavia's face on stage.

“Tch, not much to listen to anyway,” Vinyl muttered. “Buncha lifeless geezers and snooty rich ponies... I'm outta here.”

And without further delay the DJ rose and marched out with her eyes closed and nose held high.

Whatever. Didn't wanna stay anyway.

---

Vinyl slammed the door to the suite shut. A frustrated growl erupted from the mare's lungs like bass from a speaker being tested. A pair of beige eyes on the opposite side of the room arose from a book in reply.

“Vinyl Scratch,” the mare acknowledged nonchalantly in a nasally, high-pitched voice.

The DJ stared at her young suitemate, Tea Time, with a threatening spark in her bare eyes. She was a light brown mare with long brown hair, and her figure was the most petite Vinyl had ever seen. A teacup and and plate made up her cutie mark, mirroring the things set on the table beside her.

“I don't need your attitude right now, Double T,” Vinyl snarled as she threw her goggles against the far wall.

“Sounds like somepony else gave you a proper dose already,” Tea Time retorted. “Enjoy yourself at the concert?”

“Sucked,” Vinyl snapped. “Last time I trust Twink's tastes.”

“Tongue twisting as usual, I see,” Tea Time said. “You left early then?”

“What does it look like? Only took one song to get me outta there. No pony stood or even tapped a hoof-” She paused as the sight of the neglected turntable in the corner of the lounge caught her eye. “Now that I think about it, there wasn't even any real beat to it. I'll show them what a beat is.”

Vinyl approached her mixing machine and began powering everything on.

“Just what do you think you're doing?” Tea Time inquired with squinted eyes.

“What does it look like? I'm in need of some real beats, Double T. If you can't stand it, leave!”

She flipped the switches of the turntable on and placed a record on one of the stands. With a few minor adjustments to some dials and nods she looked over her control board with determination. She kicked a speaker and it sputtered to life. Without hesitation she counted herself in.

The speakers blasted to life as vibrations reverberated the DJ's revived vitality. Booms of the bass bounced through lounge and shook every square inch of stone. Vinyl's gut loosened as the music massaged her stomach, squeezing the queasiness from her memories out. The light of the candles grew greater and dwindled, its swishing in sync with the shaking speakers.

Vinyl closed her eyes and let her imagination run. The feel was familiar despite the missing visuals, and so her mind filled in the blanks. The pictures of her adoring crowd flashed in her head. The shining lights changed with every boom of the bass. The disappearing darkness was but a powerful pause, a moment to prepare for the next bang.

Not long after starting Vinyl felt her heart racing, its speed quick enough to scare her into stopping. She heaved as though she had finished carrying the heaviest load from one side of town to the other. Having unloaded, the mare stepped away from her cargo and leaned against the back wall in exhaustion and relief.

The door burst open, but Vinyl's head felt too tired to react quickly.

“What was that?” barked the newcomer, the voice like that of a peer. “Tea Time, are you all right? And... YOU!”

Despite the tiredness Vinyl's head jerked up enough to see who was addressing her. Standing in the doorway was the mare that had been playing the organ earlier on in the week. Her tidy appearance and dress matched those of Tea Time's, though the newcomer's light purple coat and white hair contrasted with the browns of Vinyl's suitemate.

“Oh my Celestia... you're like clones,” Vinyl groaned.

“We are not clones, we're sisters. My name is Melodia.”

“Mare of the Organ, sure, sure,” Vinyl said. “Vinyl Scratch, but you can call me Vinyl, V, or just DJ.”

“'V' for 'vexatious'!?” Melodia snapped.

“... I'm not even sure what that means, but sure.”

“It means frustrating, nitwit. Do you realize what you've done!?”

“Enough of the yelling, drama queen. My ears only accept the good kind of loud noise.”

“I sure hope they accept the truth more than anything else,” Melodia retorted. “I don't care about that blasting music, personally, but what you did at the concert was unacceptable.”

Vinyl paused in shock. “Y-You were there? I mean, heh, should've guessed. All the rich ponies were there-”

“I was outside, thank you very much,” Melodia said. “I had an invitation but readily declined. I don't think I could stand to go another concert featuring... her.”

Vinyl saw a familiar spark in Melodia's eyes that she had felt many times before.

“Octavia.”

Melodia's eyes narrowed like a hunter's. “It seems we have something in common, Vinyl.” The shared stares of understanding were suddenly broken by a pair of furrowed eyebrows from Melodia. “Regardless, my overall impression of you is not positive, not after today.”

“Leaving early is quite inexcusable, Vinyl,” Tea Time said as though understanding.

But Melodia shook her head and snorted. “She did more than leave early, Tea Time. She interrupted a song and even had the nerve to storm out!”

Tea Time stared with horror. The combined terror and disappointment from the sisters left Vinyl backing against the wall.

“What?” Vinyl asked with a shrug. “I'm over it, and by this point all those ponies are asleep anyway. No one cares anymore. It's all in the past.”

“What about Twinkle?” Tea Time asked, standing as if ready to spring into action. "How did take all this after you forced your way into all this?"

“Not involved, and I was especially nice to her through most of it, thanks for asking,” Vinyl riposted. “And whaddaya mean by 'forced my way'?”

Melodia looked over to her sister whose face was hidden by lack of candlelight. Suddenly, she backed to the door through which she entered and uttered, “I-I think I'll take my leave...”

She backed out of the room and into the corridor, then quietly shut the door behind her. Vinyl looked over at Tea Time, who then was staring with piercing red eyes.

“Twinkle didn't tell you everything, did she?” Tea Time asked as she put her drink aside. “Let me fill you in, DJ: Twinkle was planning on going with a dear friend of hers. Your barging in on the situation left her no choice but to submit to your will before inviting her actual intended guest.”

“Y-You're makin' that up,” Vinyl said, unable to back away any more. The horror of the floating red dots that were Tea Time's eyes repelled her. “We can exchange snooty remarks all day long, but when you start bringin' in the lies-”

“Don't let your guilty conscience muddle the matter!” Tea Time barked. “I can usually tolerate your so-called 'Debbie Downer' demeanor, but imagining what that poor Twinkle is feeling after her guest left a private concert after one song...” She blew steam through her nostrils. “DESPICABLE!”

“Y-You stay out this, Double T! Since when did you care about Twink anyway?”

“She lives with us, you dubstep-loving pleb!” Tea Time said as she turned and headed for her room with indignation. “You're too busy with your head in the clouds, dreaming more than you are paying attention to where you are and who's around you. I may be nosy at times, but at least I know what's what around here.”

With this out the light brown mare slammed her door shut, leaving Vinyl alone in the main room, fuming. The DJ paced about the lounge with heavy stomps as her rage couldn't go anywhere else.

All of a sudden, music started playing within the DJ's head. To her disgust the tune did not have the electronic sounds which had taunted her across the past few weeks; rather, the music was like that which she had witnessed not long ago. The strings, the sappiness... everything. Vinyl violently shook her head to clear her ears of the muck as one would try and drain water from within the inner ear.

But no matter how hard she tried, the strings continued to rumble in her head, from bass to violin, with the bellowing of the brass. It sounded so ugly, like the music used for melodramatic play sequences. The ooziness made her squeamish.

The image of Twinkle flashed past her brain's inner perception. Vinyl ceased her bucking about as the realization finally struck her.

She had been a total ass.

With the greatest reluctance Vinyl tried to convince herself things were fine. She had made it out of the terrible concert and that was that. She usually could lie to herself about such petty matters; she had blown off plenty of things before. But not this time.

She approached her turntables once again, but couldn't lift a hoof to flip any switches. The dead devices remained off as Vinyl's brain was anything but inactive. She through closed eyes and the active imagination she began reliving the scene. Though the pain it brought was nearly insufferable something inside forced her to keep on watching. The longer that she thought about it all, the more Vinyl felt herself submitting to the guilt that swarmed her like mosquitoes on vulnerable flesh. Her tail swatted at the pesky twitching of her skin, but the sensation simply would not leave.

Unbearably aggravated by the regret, Vinyl pulled herself over to Tea Time's door.

“Yo, Double T,” she called with a knock on the door. “You still awake?”

“Go to bed!”

Vinyl rolled her eyes, unsure of what she was even doing. “I gotta ask you something.”

Hoofs plopped onto the floor and approached the door from the other side. The wooden barrier opened a crack, revealing the beige eyes of Vinyl's baggy-eyed suitemate.

“Look, not that I really care, but what do you think I should do?” Vinyl asked as her gaze fixed on everything around the door frame but Tea Time's eyes.

“Besides go jump off a cliff?” Tea Time inquired, to which Vinyl threw an unsatisfied stare. “Ugh, do I really need to say this?” Vinyl stood and stared. “Are you familiar with the term 'apologize'? Hopefully you are; it's the only thing you really can do, unless you want to try and avoid her for the remaining ten weeks you have together.”

“So, what, you want me to wait until she gets back? That could take hours given how long just their first song dragged on-”

“It's not what I want, but it's what you should do. If you can't wait a couple of hours, then I guess you really aren't that sorry then, are you?”

And with that she closed the door on Vinyl's face. The DJ, head spinning, leaned forward against the doorway and let her head thump against it.

Tea Time barked from inside her room, “Get your greasy mane off my door. Good night.”

The DJ sluggishly did as ordered. She meandered to the couch nearby and sprawled across the comfortable cushions. Facing to the left provided a wide open view of the door. With a deep breath Vinyl sat unprepared for Twinkle's return, and so the waiting game began.

Next Chapter: Chapter 15 (Episode 4): Pi�¹ Mosso Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 31 Minutes