“Okay, this is ridiculous.”

Octavia wiped the sweat off her brows and forehead with an already drenched handkerchief, walking side by side with Vinyl to the venue. “Wearing a tuxedo in such heat. It’s ridiculous. I hate those formalities.”

“A posh cellist who doesn’t like formalities.” Vinyl giggled, setting Octavia’s world on fire with that jingly sound. “But yeah, you’re right, it’s even hotter than yesterday, and a tux isn’t exactly comfortable. It hurts my boobs too.”

“Har har.” Octavia frowned as the two women approached the large open space, which was already filling up with people. “Keep reminding me that you do have big boobs and I don’t.”

“I like my Tavi flat-chested,” Vinyl remarked, looking around the place. “Where’s the concert hall or wherever the competition should take place?”

“Ah.” Octavia grinned evilly. “That’s the rub, my dear Vinyl. It’s an open venue. See the stage off in the distance?” The two women showed their invitations to the security and were allowed past the weird, almost makeshift, fence.

“So, wait a minute.” Vinyl stopped and pointed at the quite spacious stage a small way off from them. “You’re telling me there’s gonna be no air conditioning?”

“Nu-uh.” Octavia was ready to dive into the sea of the people grouping up before the stage, but spotted a familiar figure of Mr Catcher walking up to her, a fat black woman on his arm. How could such a handsome man fall for such a woman? Devil Octavia wondered from her shoulder. Octavia shrugged mentally. Angel Octavia appeared on the other shoulder: Love works in mysterious ways, my dear.

“Good evening, Octavia, and… Vinyl, was it?” The bald man greeted the two women, nodding his head towards the woman who was practically oozing sweat. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Mrs Catcher.”

So Freddie doesn’t need a woman to slow him down but you do, apparently? Octavia thought but kept her musings to herself.

“She’s a catcher for sure,” Vinyl mumbled. Immediately, she grinned and looked up at the woman. “Good evening, Mrs Catcher! My name’s Vinyl Scratch, and lemme introduce you to my girlfriend Octavia. She’s a cellist at your husband’s ensemble, and she really likes when I take a big long dildo and-”

“I think we really need to go,” Mr Catcher said with his unwavering radiant smile and led his wife away before she could faint. “Don’t forget to wish Frederic luck.”

As the couple disappeared, Octavia glared strongly at the spinner, trying to shame her wordlessly. Seeing as Vinyl remained just as cheerful as she had been moments before, the cellist decided that some words were indeed in order. “Vinyl. Was it really necessary?”

“Of course!” The DJ grinned widely, sweating in her tuxedo. “Everyone should know about your preferences! And when we know where we stand, I’ll introduce you to Sir Morning Glory!”

“You…” Octavia chuckled at the absurdity of it all. “You seriously named your-”

“Hello, Octavia. Hello, Vinyl.”

Octavia turned towards the source of the voice with a slight internal groan and with a big outwards smile. What is this, an evening of timely encounters? “Hello, Frederic,” she greeted her colleague, who, in his tuxedo, didn’t seem to perspire at all, despite the evergrowing heat. “Feeling well?”

Frederic laughed, eliciting, for some reason, a sight blush from Vinyl. It’s the heat, Octavia immediately assured herself. Vinyl is blushing from the heat. “More than well, Octavia. Some half an hour ago I composed a new tune I am going to play tonight, instead of the old one.” The man laughed again. It was a weird, liberated laughter, the kind of laughter usually reserved for prisoners who had finally done their time. “Catcher is going to be mad,” the pianist explained gleefully, “but I feel like I needed this one. I don’t care if I win. I just want to play it.”

“O-kaaay…” Octavia blinked, shaking Frederic’s hand automatically. “Whatever suits you, Freddie,” she whispered as the pianist winked at her… friend, and walked in the direction of the backstage.

“That tux does suit him well, though,” Vinyl mumbled, still somewhat flustered. “Say, when we’ve decided where we stand and all, can we have a threesome with him?”

“What.” Octavia’s little angel and devil reflected her deadpan expression as she looked at the spinner.

Vinyl blinked. “What. I didn’t say anything.”

“Vinyl.” Octavia pressed her finger into Vinyl’s chest. “I know when you’re lying.” Sinner! Angel Octavia chimed in immediately from her shoulder, where she lounged with Devil Octavia, drinking Bloody Marys.

“Your finger is touching my nipple,” Vinyl observed calmly.

The cellist groaned and, throwing her arms to the sky in a desperate gesture, walked away towards the stage, followed by Vinyl’s brilliant, jingly laughter.

***

“So when is Freddie performing?”

Octavia didn’t even have the audacity to facepalm. Instead, she just glared at her friend, who would have received yet another round of shushes from the nearby audience if it weren’t for the fact that she had wondered that (for the umpteenth time) during the round of applause for the previous performer. “Are you going to ask that after every performance?”

“Yes?” Vinyl glared back, even though her glare was more of a kitten-glare than a I’m-a-serious-woman-glare. “I am getting tired of standing. Why didn’t they provide seating?”

“Because,” Octavia explained again, and again - and again, “it is a summer festival of sorts. Be thankful that at least the performers get seating.”

“Well, this cellist,” Vinyl remarked, pointing at the man disappearing backstage, “didn’t need a seat. He played while standing.”

Octavia huffed and tossed her sweaty hair. I seriously need to cut it shorter. Angel Octavia protested: And look like a lesbian? Devil Octavia blinked. Erm, so? What about us doesn’t scream “we’re lesbian”? “I have no idea who in their right mind would play the cello without sitting down first. Oh, rejoice.” She deadpanned, watching a familiar young man enter the stage and walk confidently towards the piano. “Freddie’s here.”

The audience fell silent as Frederic took his place at the grand piano, adjusting the stool until he felt comfortable. Though, to Octavia, it seemed that he could feel comfortable at any position, so long as he had his fingers on the keys. Immediately, she chided her mind for providing a different definition of the word “position”, thanks to Vinyl’s earlier suggestion.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the pianist spoke out into the microphone next to the piano. “As well as those who identify as apache helicopters.” This elicited some chuckles, notably from the younger members of the audience. “Today I want to perform a new tune of mine, which I don’t have a name for yet - but I do know it was written for a good friend of mine, Octavia, who, it seems, has finally found true love.”

Octavia’s mouth fell agape. Two main thoughts rushed through her head: What? and We are… friends with him? But she couldn’t let her thoughts surface any longer, because Frederic pressed his fingers against the keys and began to play.

***

“That was haunting.”

Octavia exhaled, nodding to the remark as she walked side by side with Vinyl through the fence and out in the open. “Chilling,” she replied, wiping sweat off her forehead with cheap paper towels she’d snatched from the backstage while congratulating Frederic on his victory. Catcher hadn’t seemed displeased in the slightest, though, praising the pianist for his “fearlessness”. Theft is a sin, Angel Octavia reminded. It isn’t when it’s so hot, Devil Octavia replied.

Vinyl nodded, taking a paper towel for herself. “Evocative.” She took a left, much to Octavia’s surprise. “Let’s walk. It’s a hot evening but I don’t want a taxi.”

“You do know the word ‘evocative’, hmm,” the cellist remarked, dropping the notion that Vinyl didn’t want to feel emotionally attached to another taxi driver. “You know, now that you mention it, maybe we should have a threesome with Frederic after we’ve begun dating.”

The two musicians passed the street that would lead them to Neon’s office. Vinyl stopped abruptly, looking at Octavia in disbelief. “What.”

“What.” Octavia grinned. “I didn’t say anything.”

Vinyl laughed, her finger deliberately touching Octavia’s nipple. “I know when you-” A loud shriek exited her mouth instead of the end of the phrase.

Octavia spun on her heels, only to see Neon, pale, crying, dripping blood, crawling towards his sister, evidently disregarding the cellist at all.

Vinyl threw herself at the man, propping him up, so as not to let him fall on the ground. “We need an ambulance, stat!” A swift look told Octavia it was hopeless: the blood loss was way too severe. “Nini, what happened? Who did this to you?”

“I thought…” Tears streamed down Neon’s face freely. “I thought he was a friend! Like a real father, not the kind of father we have… Run,” he whispered, his eyes widening. “He’s coming for you. He’s gonna-” Coughing up blood, Neon collapsed in Vinyl’s arms. “I shouldn’t have let the security go home early.” With that, he closed his eyes, forever.

Octavia gasped, looking around for assistance, but there was no one around, not a single soul… Apart from-! “Mr Catcher!” The raven-haired woman rushed to the man’s side, not daring to think how he’d emerged there so unexpectedly. “We need your help! Neon, he’s-” Octavia froze as she saw a gun in the bald man’s hand.

“Oh, I am here to help, Octavia.” The black man smiled and pointed his gun at the lamenting Vinyl’s forehead, letting the bullet do its job. “Do you know why a silencer is useful, Octavia?” The violinist chuckled. “It silences.”

Forgetting all she’d been taught about being perfectly still while dealing with armed people, Octavia rushed to Vinyl’s side, watching life leaving the woman’s body, her soul leaving the earthly chains and dissipating in the night heat. “Vinyl, Vinyl, Vinyl!” she screamed, looking, then, with fear, at the bald black man, who hadn’t put the gun away still. “Why did you do this, Mr Catcher?” she addressed the conductor, her upbringing disallowing her to call him anything but “mister”, despite what he had committed.

“It’s simple, Octavia.” Catcher’s smile faded, and the cellist expected a classical evil monologue, all the while trying to make the little blue flame in her hand run red, to no avail. “The Staccatos were unnecessary competitors. Now Neon’s business is mine, and - rejoice! - I have a place both for Frederic and you in my brave new world.” The man rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I thought that would take more time to explain.”

“You are not getting away with this, Catcher,” Octavia whispered the most cliche phrase she could come up with, holding Vinyl’s dead but still warm body, clinging to her still.

“Octavia, let’s dispense with the pleasantries.” Catcher sighed. “Are you up for working with me in my brave new world or not?”

“Thank you,” the cellist replied with dignity, tossing her hair defiantly. “But I would rather remain in the old world.” Angel Octavia and Devil Octavia facepalmed in unison.

Catcher shrugged. “Okay.” He pointed the gun at the cellist.

The last thing Octavia heard before drifting off to eternal sleep wasn’t the shot. It was Frederic’s magnificent piano.

***

What woke her up was thunderous applause.

Octavia shrieked, but her yell was drowned by the sound of people clapping, cheering for Frederic’s spectacular performance. Immediately, she realised that the blue fire and the music had saved them once again, and that it might not happen again.

The cellist grabbed Vinyl by the arm and led her out of the crowd, much to the spinner’s dismay. “Tavi, what the hell are you doing?” Vinyl demanded as soon as the two were out of the people’s hearing reach.

“It happened again,” Octavia hissed, straight to the point. “Vinyl, we died again. And music brought us back again. Right to this point. And we don’t have much time.”

“Wait wait wait.” Vinyl shook her head in disbelief. “Octavia, this is insane. Who killed us? When? Where?”

Octavia groaned, knowing she had no time to explain or persuade the blue-haired woman. Suddenly, she knew just what to say. “Neon. He is in danger. Catcher shot him first. We need to warn him!”

“WHAT?” Vinyl yelled, grabbing Octavia’s head in her hands. “Octavia, this is serious. Let me get to that Catcher bastard and kick his face in! If what you’re saying is true-”

“It IS true!” Octavia yelled back, freeing her face. “But he has a gun! We have to be smart. Let’s run to Neon’s office. He is about to let the security go home. We can’t let him do that.”

Vinyl opened her mouth, then closed it and grabbed Octavia by the hand.

And so they ran.

***

“This is ridiculous.” Neon laughed, echoing Octavia’s sentiment from earlier. “Catch, killing me? What are you two on, because I want some.”

“Nini, please.” There were tears welling in Vinyl’s eyes. “If you ever listen to me, listen to me now. He is out there, walking here, with an intent to kill both you and me. Don’t ask me how I know, don’t ask me anything, just trust me, for God’s sake, please trust me.” Vinyl stepped in and grabbed the man’s hands in his, making Neon let out a surprised sigh. “Nini, you are my brother, and I love you. I want you alive. So please, do as I say. Call the security and tell them not to leave, but to hide. Wear a bulletproof vest. I know you have one. As soon as Catcher comes in, the security will subdue him, and we’ll all be alive and well.”

Neon shook his head, then sighed and shook off Vinyl’s pleading hands. “Okay, sis. Whatever. I don’t know what bit you, but okay.” He pressed the button on his speakerphone. “Hey, guys? Can you come in?”

Immediately, two square-shouldered men closely resembling gorillas rushed into the office, standing guard by the door. Vinyl could only marvel at their diligence.

“Can you guys hide in the smoking room next to my office? Apparently, there will be a bad man out there to kill me. We need to neutralise him before he can neutralise me.”

Without questioning the tactics of their employer, the gorillas marched through the door into the smoking lounge. Vinyl exhaled in relief and looked at her sibling with thankful eyes. Octavia could only marvel at how Vinyl had trusted her, and how, now, Neon was trusting Vinyl.

Before she could muse on the nature of trust, however, Neon shooed them away, pointing at the door to the smoking room. “Out, you two. I am going to get changed. Gonna wear that bulletproof vest of mine.”

The women diligently left, taking their place in the smoking lounge behind the security men’s backs. Octavia wouldn’t mind looking over the room, but in the darkness she could see nothing, with the curtains closed and the lights off.

They didn’t have to wait long. Soon, there were sounds, painful sounds: of a door opening, of footsteps, a one-sided greeting, a gasp, a shot. The security rushed out before Octavia could comprehend what was happening. But Vinyl was ahead even of the men.

They hadn’t spent enough time in the darkness for Octavia’s eyes to need to adjust. She could see everything clearly: Neon, who was standing at the side, staring in disbelief at the floor, where the two men were holding Catcher, his arms behind his back, his face to the floor, his gun thrown aside.

Finally, Neon spoke up. “I have no idea what the fuck just happened. No. I don’t want to understand. Let’s get out of here. You guys turn him in to the police, okay?”

The three people walked out of the building, feeling the heat licking at their feet, hearing screams, seeing fire. “What the-” Neon began upon seeing what Octavia and Vinyl could see very well too: the whole city consumed by fire, people burning, buildings burning, the asphalt burning, numerous vehicles burning too. “Holy fuck, what the hell is wrong with this city? Okay.” He quickly grabbed Vinyl by the shoulders and did something Vinyl evidently didn’t expect. He hugged his sister quickly and kissed her cheek. “Take care, sis. Get to the car and get out of here, stat. We’ll meet again, I know. First, we need to get out of here. See you!” With that, he ran off in the direction of the parking lot.

“Could have offered us his car,” Vinyl mumbled, casting a look at Octavia. “You sure you can’t rewind this fire into nothingness?” she jested, but Octavia was in no mood for jokes.

“It’s because of the last rewind. Because of all the rewinds. By saving our lives, I doomed the city. And I can’t save it!” Octavia shouted into the sky.  “I don’t have a choice!” She yelled on top of her lungs. “I don’t have the powers anymore!”

“And what if you had?”

Octavia fell silent and looked at her friend. “I… I could have…” Then she realised the implications. In order for this whole thing to never have happened, she should have never used the rewinds in the first place… And she realised that Vinyl had realised this as well.

Vinyl smiled sadly at the cellist. “Yes, you just had to let me die under the truck.” She sighed and scratched the ear piercing, her arms crossed behind the back of her head, a sure sign of insecurity. “I would have understood. And, you know, maybe… I mean.” The woman gulped down fear and unwanted tears. “I mean, you would save the whole of Manehattan, and, and I-”

“Fuck Manehattan,” Octavia hissed suddenly, grabbing Vinyl by the shoulders. Now, in the face of death, she saw hope and opportunity. She saw her future. “Fuck this wretched city and fuck all who live in it. I have you. I love you.” Vinyl gasped, trying to step back, but Octavia held her in place by the shoulders. “I don’t care how many alternate realities passed, or how many times I turned back time because I was afraid of this. I am not afraid anymore. I love you, Vinyl. I love you.” Octavia didn’t lean for a kiss, didn’t step back. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back, I will forever love you and I will devote my life to you, even if I am forever in the friendzone.

“I reverted time when you confessed that you liked me. I was a fool. I reversed time once more when I confessed that I liked you, with a kiss. I am past all that now. I will not rewind any more. Whatever your reply, I will take it like a grown woman that I am.”

To say that the following silence was deafening was to say nothing. Still, within the silence, there was the shouting, the screaming, the noise of burning people Octavia could not care about.

Finally, Vinyl took a step. “Kiss my neck.”

“What?” Octavia didn’t falter, didn’t step back, but didn’t oblige either. “But Vinyl, I thought…”

Vinyl took Octavia’s hands in hers. “I could say I love you, that I’ve really grown to love you through this week, because I do love you - but actions speak louder than words. Kiss my neck.” She smiled. “You’re the only person in the world I trust enough to do that.”

Octavia nodded, realising just how much of a privilege she had just been given. She started out slow, by pressing the back of her index finger at the side of Vinyl’s neck. She could feel the shuddering within the beautiful body, but the spinner didn’t step back. The tan finger soon traced the lovely neck and, as soon as Vinyl seemed relaxed enough, Octavia’s lips joined in.

Vinyl tensed a little, almost flinched, but, under Octavia’s soft, tiny, gentle kisses, melted and relaxed, finally, after all those years. Octavia kept kissing her girlfriend’s neck, putting all her love and care in the gesture, not giving a damn about burning children. After all, Equestria shouldn’t have existed in the first place. It was an atrocity in itself. And if life itself decided to rid itself of this wretched city, and maybe the whole country soon, then who was she to judge? After all, life was-

“We need to get out of here.”

Octavia stopped, feeling the flames almost lick at her feet, the wondrous feat of burning asphalt to be witnessed. And yet, Vinyl was right: there was nothing to witness here. They had to go away, get into Vinyl’s speedy car and rush to the North, and there- well, there they had all the forever in the world. They would have their love, and their True North. “You’re right, love. Let’s get out of here.”

“One sec.” Vinyl took out a cigarette and lowered it to the ground. The flames licked at the paper and the leaves within ignited. The spinner grinned and took a drag. “Always wanted to do that.”

Laughing, without a care in the world, the two women turned, and walked away from the burning city, from the burning and screaming people, from Neon, from Frederic, and from Catcher, from aught and all.

Moscow - London - Moscow, 2016