For as long as she knew, time would pass on by at irregular intervals. Sometimes, Octavia would blink and days would go by, or maybe weeks. As a spirit, Octavia need not to sleep, eat, or any other living necessity. She would only exist, trapped in an eternity of watching the world go by.

For years, the spectral mare roamed the halls of the theatre named after her. Lost, yet confined. The decaying theatre served as a prison for her restless spirit; a hell far worse than death. She was alone, utterly alone. She had nopony; all those who she had known when she was alive were long dead, and what made things worse was that she didn’t even know how, where, or why. She had seen nopony mourn for her, nor had she been given the opportunity to mourn for them. She was trapped in the tomb of her death, her only memory of the fateful night when her life was ended. Her emotions had fluttered. Anger turned to sadness, sadness turned to regret, and regret turned to loneliness.

She remembered that moment vividly, the feeling of the knife piercing her heart still pained her like a damned phantom. She did not die instantly, forced to watch her beloved audience shriek in terror as her blood spilled from her body. She could still hear the words of her murderer, cursing the earth pony race.

It was at that moment, before death had embraced her, that she scorned her life. She cursed herself for being born an earth pony. She cursed society for discriminating. She cursed the unicorns for murdering her and denying her dream. She died filled with nothing but hatred and sorrow.

And through her anger, her spirit refused to die with her body.

Octavia’s earliest memory of her afterlife was one of the most frightening moments she could remember. She awoke, laying on the very stage that she had played for the princess. The very stage that marked her death. She looked around at the empty chairs, trying to figure out what was going on. When she stood up, she noticed the spot she was laying on was stained with blood… her blood.

She was scared. Oh, so scared. She remembered being stabbed. She remembered her life slipping away. She remembered feeling so cold; so alone. But, then, she was standing, not feeling any more pain. Had she survived the attack? Had somepony resuscitated her? If so, where were they?

Nothing made sense. Where was everypony? Shouldn’t there have been a medical team nearby? Bystanders, even? Royal Guards? Something! No, it was empty. Abandoned, even! Octavia trotted through the rows of seats, trying to find some answers. Once she had made it to the entrance, she reached out a hoof to open the door.

The feeling was indescribable.

Octavia screamed and backed away from the door as if it was a terrifying creature ready to pounce her. So many emotions and feelings ran through her mind and body; she couldn't comprehend what was going on.

Cold. So cold. It wasn’t just a freezing kind of cold, but a haunting, chill of death kind of cold. It was as if her very soul was brought to a shivering halt.

Dread. Absolute dread. Even looking at the double doors gave her a feeling of unease. As if she didn’t belong outside. It gave her the feeling that outside the doors only held an endless void, dark and eternal. A place so unnerving and frightening that nopony should ever have to look upon it. Those dreaded doors told her, no, commanded her not to step outside. Reality, as she knew it, ended outside those doors.

For months, the spirit of Octavia Melody roamed the theatre as it decayed around her. She was scared and confused about what she was. She didn’t need to sleep; she never felt hunger or thirst, and she could walk through objects. And every night, at the exact same time, she would be forced to play her cello, filling the empty halls with ominous music. For a long time, Octavia tried to figure out what had become of her. But, as the days passed in instants, and her anxiety calmed down, she had figured it out.

Octavia died that night, and her spirit had been cursed.

The spectre remembered the first time she encountered another pony. He was a young, nervous colt that slowly navigated his way through the theatre. Octavia didn’t care why he was there, she just knew that another pony had entered her domain. She had rushed up to the pony, pleading for him to help her in any way he could. But, alas, the poor colt ran screaming from the spectre and never returned.

This had happened a few more times. Every time a new face showed up in the theatre, Octavia would try a different approach to not scare them off. She begged for them not to run; that she would not hurt them, but they never listened. They all saw the ghost, and ran for their lives.

Eventually, as the years passed by, she would grow tired. There was no more reason to beg these ponies for help, for they would all run. There was no more reason to feel remorse or fear—what’s the point when she’s been trapped for years with nothing to come? There was no more hope left for her, how could there be? She would watch the building around her slowly decay and rot.

And as each day dwindled away, so too would her hope.

Some time ago, she had accepted her fate: she would forever roam the halls until the end of time, playing her song that nopony would hear. There was no point in crying anymore. There was no point in fighting it. For whatever reason, the gods decided to curse her spirit—she had no say in it.

It wasn’t until recently that she had been broken out of her trance. A white unicorn had entered her domain, and, as always, Octavia wouldn’t care, for they would always leave soon anyway. She was right, of course, the mare turned tail and ran once she caught sight of Octavia.

But, that time... that one came back.

It had greatly confused Octavia. Why would she come back? What reason did she have? She didn’t forget her glasses. No, Octavia had given those back to her. Why was she there? The white unicorn - Vinyl - had explained that she was simply curious, that she wanted to come back to get some answers.

For the first time in her afterlife, Octavia felt happy. There stood a pony who was not afraid of her; a pony that came back out of curiosity. A pony that, eventually, not only befriended her, but helped her regain her memories, helped her accept herself, and helped her move on.

The spirit of Octavia floated around her domain, patiently awaiting her friend to return. Time always had a funny way of passing by quicker than normal to her, but as she waited, it seemed like the tables had flipped.

The spectral mare floated near the ceiling. She kept all the possessions Vinyl had given her neatly stacked in a special place she had made in the rafters, the closest thing she considered to be her ‘bedroom’.

She had already listened to all the songs on Vinyl’s device, most of them to be absolutely appalling. She had read all the Sherlock Hooves books and already started reading some of them again. The only thing left to do was read the ghost books Vinyl had given her.

She picked up one of the books, scanning the cover before opening the pages. “When Tartarus is full, the dead will walk the earth,” she read aloud. “Fire will flow from the deepest reaches of the earth and breach into the heavens, clouding even the holy themselves.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Since I seem to be alone, this doesn't help me!" She calls out, throwing the book into the slowly growing pile. She picks up the next one. “The damned and you: a guide to spirits who haven't moved on." Octavia shrugged. “Promising…”

This routine had followed for the past week and a half, Vinyl had brought her a new book about the undead, spirits, or ghosts and she would read it. Sadly, none of them had helped, most seemingly written by ignorant, crazy ponies.

The spirit adjusted her position on the rafter, getting comfy as she opened the book.

“There are many reasons why the dead can't pass on; unfinished reasons, confined to limbo, or simply cursed. For whatever the reasons, some ponies have been condemned to walk amongst the living, trapped in this endless purgatory.

“Sad, isn't it?

“But, there is hope, my spectral friend, or friend of the damned. There is always a way to move on; hope is never lost.”

Octavia smiled, this book showing promise. However, it wavered as that book turned out like the last. They all spouted the same nonsense: sugarcoated words that held no value. She tossed the book aside and rolled onto her back. The only thing left to do now was think. But, sadly, that was what she was trying to avoid. Her meeting with Vinyl yesterday had been… interesting, to say the least. Yes, she had recovered more of her memory, but it had brought her more grief than clarity. And, to top it off, it made her think of her unicorn savior in a different light, a way that brought her even more confusion.

The mare let out a sigh, her will to push off the topic finally breaking. There was one question that she needed an answer for: Did she love Vinyl?

The mare was, well, certainly attractive, her body could certainly be considered ‘hot’ as Vinyl had put it. And she was caring, understanding, kind, and sympathetic, all qualities that she would want in a romantic partner. However, there was still one huge, glaring problem.

Octavia was a ghost, and Vinyl was alive.

Maybe if that wasn’t the case, she would have a chance, but fate had other plans. Octavia would just have to use the same strategy she used with her old friend: repressing her feelings. There was no point in pursuing them, for Octavia was already a loss cause, and it wouldn’t be fair to Vinyl to have a ghost as a marefriend. Especially one that couldn’t leave the building, and gave her hypothermia whenever they hugged.

Octavia sighed sadly, pushed the thoughts away to the back of her mind, and thought about something else, and something else soon did breach her mind: what was the connection between her memories and the song? Yes, she and Vinyl had guessed that the two were connected, but why? And, while on the topic, why was she cursed? Did she do something horrible when she was alive? Would the memories all lead to her doing some awful act that would land her in this hell? The mare shuttered, the thought of such a thing practically chilling her to the bone. She prayed to Celestia that wasn’t the reality.

Okay, time to shift gears, Octavia, she thought, shaking her head. She tried to think of something happy; something positive. But, the opposite happened, a thought of great dread filling her mind.

What happens when it’s all over?

It was a fair question, one she had mixed feeling about. Yes, she wanted desperately to move on, finally die like she should have. But… the thought of death still made her shiver with fear. What was the beyond? What was it like to die? Did she just cease to exist, or would she go to some heaven like all the old religions spoke of?

She tried to remember what it was like right after she died, and before her spirit woke up. Between that time, it was just a blank spot, as if no time had passed at all. One moment, she felt death’s embrace, and the next she woke up some time later as a ghost.

Perhaps actual death is nothingness. Perhaps when her spirit ‘moves on’ she merely ceases to exist, not feeling anything anymore, not thinking about anything anymore. She will become nothing.

The thought of becoming nothing terrified her. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay just so she can spend time with Vinyl. Just so she can feel something, know something, think something, rather than being nothing.

Although, there is a physical hell. Tartarus. A prison for the damned. A place of eternal torment for the wicked spirits that roamed the realm of the living. Though Octavia was positive she would not end up there, it still implanted the thought of an opposite to Tartarus; a heaven.

Octavia hoped she would end up there when all this is over.

The spirit closed her eyes, wishing that she had felt the need to sleep. She had grown tired of existing for nearly a century—day in and day out, without rest. She wanted to lay down and rest her weary soul, but whenever she tried, she couldn’t. She was forced to stay awake, active, alert, without quarter.

Octavia floated down from the rafter, phasing through the walls, and ended up in the main foyer. She stared at the double doors, the gateways to the outside world that felt like an empty void than anything else. She waited for Vinyl to come back, not moving for hours. She couldn’t tell how much time had past, for even blinking could allow hours or months to pass by.

What if Vinyl never came back? What if something happened to her that caused injury or, even, death? How could Octavia even tell how long it has been since Vinyl’s last visit? The ghost begun to shake, fear gripping down to her very soul. What if another eighty years passed by, and another pony came into the theatre to have the whole process be repeated? There was no way she could tell.

“Tavi! Where are you?"

Octavia’s eyes went wide, her soul lighting up at that familiar voice. Like a flash, the ghost floated down from her perch, heading to meet her friend, who had just reached the entrance of the main concert hall.

The spectral mare landed in front of the unicorn, who took a step back in surprise. “Hey, Vinyl!" She squeaked, a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Uh… Hey, Tavi?" she began, clearing her throat, “You seem… cheerful, today.”

Octavia cleared her throat, recollecting herself. There were a few things she wanted to say to Vinyl, but for the sake of not making things between them feel awkward, she held her tongue. “Oh, uh, well… I can assure you I feel just the same as I always do at this particular moment.”

Vinyl chuckled. “C’mon, admit it! You’re happy to see me, aren’t you?”

The spirit blushed. “W-well I mean… of course! You are my friend, are you not?”

Vinyl trotted towards the main hall, Octavia floating beside her. “Tavi, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I mean, if I was in your position, I’d be the happiest thing in the world just to see my friend every day."

Octavia grumbled. “Yes, Vinyl, I’m happy to see you." Her head fell, and she sighed, “I was… I was actually thinking about some stuff.”

Vinyl raised a brow as she settled into one of the seats, “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

The spirit hovered in front of her friend, looking away from her. “It’s just that… sometimes I get the feeling that you won’t come back.”

Vinyl stopped her before she could continue. “Woah, hey! Where’d you get that idea?”

Octavia winced. “I-I mean, I can’t tell how much time passes when I’m in here. For all I know, the last time you visited was last week! What if something were to happen to you, and I’m expecting you as I always do, and you never come? What if years went by and, I don’t know, your brother came by and told me you… you died. It’s just… I’m terrified that something could happen to you, and I may never know until it’s been far, far too long.”

Vinyl’s gaze softened. She took in Octavia’s words, understanding why she would worry, and why she’s so happy whenever she shows up. She blinked as an idea popped into her head. “Why didn’t you just say so? You still have my music player, right?”

Octavia nodded, caught off guard by the change of subject. She disappeared momentarily, reappearing with the device in hoof. “What about it?" she asked.

Vinyl grabbed the device with her magic, pushing a few buttons and giving it back to her spectral friend. “There’s a clock on this thing, see? It’s got the time and date, so you’ll know exactly how much time has passed!”

Octavia’s eyes went wide as she looked at the device with awe. She smiled as she read the time and date: 2:29am November 22nd, 003. Now, she has an exact presence of time.  She hugged Vinyl, but only briefly. “Thank you, Vinyl!”

Vinyl only let out a small shiver, before smiling. “No problem, Tavi. And, if I remember correctly, you’re about to be playing, right…”

Octavia began to float towards the stage.

“Now.”

The spectral earth pony picked up her bow, resting it on the strings. “I do hope this one isn’t as depressing as the last." Straightening her posture, she swiped the bow across the strings and began to play.

Vinyl leaned in on her seat, entranced by the new sound. This rhythm was dramatically more upbeat, quicker, and all around more cheerful. Actually, she thought. That wouldn’t be too bad for a baseline of a song–shit! Her head spun before she could finish the thought, the world spinning as she cursed herself for getting distracted. Like usual, her head hurt, her mind swam, and she ended up on the floor.

Vinyl eyes open slowly crack open, groaning as her ears are instantly pummeled by the worst music she’d ever heard. “On my Celestia, turn that shit off!" she screams, before the fact that nopony would hear it dawned on her. “Oh… right. Dream-thing." She shook her head, temporarily blocking out the horrible sounds to get a better view of what’s going on. By the looks of things, she was in some kind of a theatre. Not like the one Octavia was trapped in, as it wasn't nearly as big or fancy, but it was clearly a theatre, of some sort. Ponies of all sizes and races… actually, she could only see unicorns.

Vinyl paused.

“Well, that doesn't make any sense…” She tilted her head. “What would Tavi be doing in a theatre filled with unicorns?" Vinyl cringed—another scratched note. “And what the hell is making that noise!" With her resolve depleted, the annoyed unicorn trotted (literally) through the crowd of ponies, her destination the front row to give whoever was making that racquet a piece of her mind, regardless if they could hear her. She made it to the stage and observed with disdain as a young unicorn colt attempted to play a violin, but failed… horribly.

“Get off the stage!” she booed. “You suck!" Vinyl didn't care that he couldn't hear her—yelling was good enough for her.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for the judges to deem him unworthy of continuing the disaster of sounds he had called a ‘song’ before he was escorted off the stage. One of the judges cleared his throat and spoke to the crowd, “Now that that’s over, would the next contestant please step on-stage. Number: 14.”

As another unicorn trotted on-stage and Vinyl decided to go backstage to look for Octavia. She hadn't seen her so far, and considering this was her memory she had to be around somewhere.  She phased through the curtains, weaving through other ponies as they tuned their instruments, studied sheet music, or even, in one case, panic in the fetal position in the corner.

The scene around Vinyl confused her even more. Everypony present was a unicorn. Not a single earth pony or pegasus was backstage, or even front stage. What the hell is Octavia doing here of all places? Vinyl thought, continuing her search for her friend.

Suddenly, the random conversations of the young musicians halted to whispers. Vinyl looked around, confused, as she saw the unicorns all lower their voices and look off to the side of the room with disgust. The white mare followed their gazes until her eyes landed on Octavia, standing tall and proud as she weaved around the room, not letting the unicorns glares or racial slurs get to her.

The earth pony took her cello case off her back and took the instrument out. She sat down on a stool and leaned it against her body, making sure it’s tuned to perfection and her bow was adequately rossined. As the gray filly was preparing, a group of unicorns approached her.

“Hey, what’s a dirt-digger like you doing here?" one of them said, chuckling to his friends.

As she watched, Vinyl gritted her teeth. Octavia was the only earth pony there, and that probably made her feel nervous enough. But now, a group of unicorns have to come and harass her, too? The white mare wished she could intervene and kick their racist asses, but what she was seeing was merely a recording of the past. She couldn't do anything but watch.

“Yeah,” another spoke up, smirking. “Shouldn't you be at the farms growing food for us?”

Vinyl watched Octavia merely ignored them, continuing to pluck at her strings to find the right tune.

“Hey, guys, lighten up,” a new voice said. Vinyl turned and noticed a new unicorn filly trotting over. “I think she’s just lost. This is the Annual Canterlot Music Recital, not the State Fair. Sorry, sweetie.”

Octavia chose this moment to speak up, “Shhh, I can’t hear my cello,” she said to them, plucking the strings a few more time and further tuning it. “Ahh, there we go. Perfect!” Her voice was calm, collected—her resolve far surpassing Vinyl’s own.

“You’re gonna compete with that?" one of the colts said. “Looks like one of those cheap elementary school instruments that foals play with.”

“Looks more like firewood to me!”

The group laughed.

Vinyl watched as Octavia’s stoic mask began to falter. Her hooves clenched her instrument’s neck tightly, and she tried to calm herself by breathing deeply. “I can assure you it’s in working order, and more than enough to win the competition.”

One of the colts raised a brow. He smirked as he noticed Octavia’s composure giving out. “Oh-ho! Big talk coming from a mud pony. How the heck does a digger like you even play that thing, anyways?”

Octavia’s face twitched. “Better than you can ever wish, screwhead,” she muttered under her breath.

The colt narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see about that," he said, turning around and trotting away.

Before the group dispersed, however, a filly in the group used her magic to twist the pegs on Octavia’s cello tighter, a loud ‘twang’ sounding as the strings snapped.

“Oops! Sorryyyyy!" she called out, voice dripping with sarcasm.

They trotted away.

Octavia cursed under her breath as she reached into her case to pick out new strings, her eyes going wide as she found replacements for all of them but the  ‘F’ string. Her hooves clench tighter, and her face turned red in anger. “Bloody witches,” she muttered, tears glinting in the corners of her eyes.

Vinyl bit her lip. What was Octavia to do now? She knew there was no way the earth pony could find a replacement string in time, and she had an inkling feeling that borrowing a string would be near impossible. She stood besides the distraught earth pony, her face contorted in sadness. “You poor thing… How could ponies treat someone like this just because they don't have a horn?”

To make matters worse, the judges called the next competitor. “Would the next competitor please take the stage. Number: 16." Octavia slowly collected herself, putting her cello back in its case and trotting on stage, breathing deeply the whole time to calm her nerves.

“Yeah! You show them, Tavi! Show those cone headed fuckers who the true queen of the cello is!" Vinyl called out as she followed, trying to give a memory a pep talk. She had realized that she would probably look pretty silly to anyone watching, talking to something that can't even hear you, but she didn't care, mainly because there was nopony to see her.

As soon as Octavia revealed herself, the crowd collectively gasped, and soon after went wild. Some voices were yelling racial slurs, others were simply booing, and some were just screaming at her to, “get off the stage." Octavia ignored it all, keeping her trembling at bay and her expression as stoic as possible.

She took a seat at the lone stool on stage and began unpacking her cello. The judges looked at her with confusion and pity, oddly. The head judge double checked the paperwork, making sure that the filly on stage was the same filly that signed up. “You are… Octavia Melody?" he asked, slowly.

Octavia quickly answered, “Yes sir.”

The judges looked at each other, whispering and casting their gazes at the filly on stage every so often. Eventually, the head judge motioned for her to begin. The second Octavia pulled her instrument out, a few ponies in the front row that can see its shape laughed. As for the judges, they all shook their heads, one of them muttering, “Can’t even afford a fully strung instrument.”

Vinyl glared at the judges from her position, wishing she could give them a piece of her mind. She turned to Octavia. Stay strong, Tavi.

With her bow tightly held within her fetlock, Octavia pulled her bow across the strings, letting out a low tone. As she continued, her notes rose, the song speeding up as her hooves glided across the string, guiding the song as it grew in intensity. As she neared the ‘F’ string, the musically inclined ponies in the crowd waited for her to fail, give up, or make a choppy transition. To their shock, her hooves glided seamlessly as she traveled down to a high ‘D’ position, the supplanted note fitting seamlessly with the song. It was a simple move, really, and all those who played the instrument knew of this trick. But, even though they know it was possible, switching from low to high stepping was no easy feat, and with hooves, not magic, to boot. Even more impressive was how seamlessly the song sounded, the missing string not seeming to affect her play at all. The notes were perfectly executed, her timing was exact, and her technique was masterful. Her cello sung to the audience, it's unique and unheard song reflected mastery in all ways—composition and execution alike.

Vinyl was speechless.

Her jaw dropped as soon as Octavia’s bow had touched the instrument. She had seen Octavia play, but never like this. Her raw passion and emotion bled into the notes, giving it life that could never be accomplished if played any other way, by anypony else. Vinyl had never seen another cello player before, but she knew that none could compare to the mare who sat in front of her, her hoof like lightning as it switched between the notes, now like thunder as it rocket across the strings.

The song had started low, sad, but had picked up and seemingly gained hope as it went on. It played like a story, telling a tail of a hesitant pony who grew into the light.

It was beautiful.

Just as it had begun, the song ended. Octavia’s bow hung onto the last note, before letting it go, sending the theatre into silence. Her eyes were still closed, waiting for the judges to give her a verdict. When a moment passed without a word from the judges or audience, she opened her eyes to be meet with the stunned expressions on the three judges’ faces.

They sat silently, unmoving, jaws still hanging on the floor at what they had witnessed. The head judge snapped out of his stupor first, slowly writing down words on a parchment in front of him. He cleared his throat. “Thank you… young lady. That was… that was…” He shook his head and muttered something too soft for Vinyl to hear. “Would the next competitor please take the stage. Number… 17?”

The young earth pony clapped a hoof to her mouth, unsure if their reaction was good or not. She ran a hoof through her mane, shaking away any ill thoughts and packing up her instrument. Bolstering up as much confidence as she could, Octavia smiled at the judges and bowed to them, taking her leave.

Vinyl, who had also snapped back to reality, cheered at Octavia as she trotted off stage. She went to follow her, just to see the looks on those snotty unicorns’ faces, but she never got the chance as she felt reality before her crumble. The entire scene shifted, becoming a swirling mass of colors before becoming void of color entirely. Vinyl braced herself for a headache, allowing her trance to do what it usually does, letting it happen rather than fighting it.

She opened her eyes to the familiar, run down theatre, on the ground that she had not so happily come familiar with. Standing back up and dusting herself off, the white mare approached her spectral friend.

“Holy fucking shit, Tavi! That was the greatest thing I’ve ever heard in my life! You totally showed up all those snotty spellheads! I mean, Celestia H. Faust I wish I saw the looks on their stupid, smug faces when you totally kicked their asses to no tomorrow! Damn, man, how did you even play with a broken string, anyhow? I didn't even know that was possible!”

Octavia smiled, blushing slightly from the compliment. “Well… it wasn't easy, and I had to adjust the song as I played to make it flow correctly. Though I could hit most of the notes individually, compound notes were completely out of the question, so I had to edit my composition accordingly,” the ghost spoke, proud of her past accomplishment.

Vinyl, well… she didn't get it. With a shrug, the unicorn decided to accept simply that Tavi was awesome, and that was how it worked. “Still, that was fucking amazing. Those dudes showed up all like ‘hey stupid earth pony, you’re inferior to our unicorn master race’ and you were all like ‘nah, man, I’ll show you’ and then that bitch broke your string and you were like ‘whatever, I still got this’, then you went on-stage and they were like ‘what’s an earth pony doing here and look, she’s got a broken string, hah!’ but then you played, and they were all like ‘daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!’” She smiled at herself, finding her summary pretty on the nail. “You totally won, right? Please tell me you won.”

Octavia nodded. “Yes, Vinyl, I did win. And good thing, too, because Mom and Pa really needed the money.”

Vinyl perked up at that. “Hey, I just realized you’ve never mentioned anything about your parents, before.”

Octavia rubbed her head, frowning. “I’d love to tell you about my family… if only I can remember them." She lowered her head. “I don't even remember their names…”

The room went quiet, the awkward tension building in the chamber from the question, both parties now feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you’ll get those back too, Tavi. It's only a matter of time,” Vinyl spoke up, having finally giving up on even attempting to physically comfort the specter.

The ghost sniffled a few more times, but didn’t burst into tears like she usually did. “Yes… you’re right, Vinyl." She sighed. “But even so, it doesn’t make the fact any more depressing.”

Vinyl bit her lip, thinking of something to lighten the mood. Her ears perked up as she remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot!" She dug through her saddlebags, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Some dudes were playing poker at the bar, and they got too drunk and started roughhousin’, so they got kicked out, but I kept the cards!” She plopped herself on the floor. “Wanna play?”

Octavia looked at the deck, trying to remember how to play card games.

Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me poker didn’t exist a hundred years ago.”

Octavia rolled her eyes as well. “Of course it did, Vinyl. I’m just trying to remember the rules.”

Vinyl smiled, dealing out the cards to her. “I’ll teach ya.”

The white mare did a quick run down on the basics, explaining to her the different sets and which ones trump which. As they were playing, Octavia wasn’t focused on her cards as much as she was on the mare before her. All of those compliments she spewed out after her song ended certainly didn’t help repress her feelings for the unicorn. She kept telling herself that the endeavor was moot, and that she should just forget about it.

It’s only a stupid crush. I’m only thinking this way because she’s the only pony that ever looked past my… condition. That’s all. If it was any other mare, it would be the same. She sighed through her nostrils. If I keep it under control, these feelings will go away, I’m sure of it!

But you don't want them to go away, said a little voice in her head.

Shut up, she grumbled, pushing the thoughts back into the deepest recesses of her subconscious. Now wasn't the time to think of such things. Now was a time for her to be thankful for what she had, not wanting more.

She knew that all good things eventually came to an end. Next Chapter: Chapter: 9 Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 28 Minutes