The Beatle

by CrackedInkWell

First published 18th of October, 2019

What would Ocellus do if everyone, except for her, forgot The Beatles?

Warning: The following is currently unedited. You have been warned.

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In the land of Equestria, the music of The Beatles has become beloved. For Ocellus, thanks to Sandbar, she has been introduced to their music and has picked up music lessons to play one of their songs. But what would happen if one day, she wakes up and finds that no one, not her friends, her scholarly Headmare, or even all of Equestria has forgotten about the Fab Four?

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An idea that's based on the film "Yesterday," and is taking in a deeper dive into this brilliant concept.

Chapter 1 - A Complicated Situation

“So, Ocellus,” Sandbar asked, “how are your music lessons going?”

The young, blue Changeling adjusted her saddlebag. Although the hike through the White Tail Woods was rather trying for the whole class – especially Professor Applejack’s survival class – the sudden spring for conversation was welcoming. Since most conversations had fallen quiet for the last half-hour of the field trip, Ocellus greeted the break in the monotony.

“It’s coming along,” she replied to her friend, “Octavia is pretty nice and helpful. She made sense in how the guitar works along with what notes go where.”

“That’s good,” Sandbar, a young light green pony nodded. “And what song are ya gonna be doing?”

“Well, since we agreed that it’s best that I stuck with doing something easy for now, we thought that we should start out with the song, Yesterday.”

“Ooh! That’s a good one!” He beamed, “It’s such a classic.”

“Well, it’s hard not to be influenced when I could hear you playing The Beatles through the wall.” She giggled.

“What can I say? They’re my favorite band. They changed and influenced how music was thought about.”

“Maybe because their stuff is catchy. You know, until I came to school, I never heard of them. But once I’ve heard you playing their songs on that phonograph of yours, it’s hard to forget. To me, they sound like a lot of fun. All You Need is Love, Yesterday, Elanor Rigby, Yellow Submarine, Come Together, Strawberry Fields, Twist and Shout, it’s songs like those that want me to pick up an instrument and sing along.”

“I know, right!” Sandbar smiled.

“Hey! You two gonna catch up or what?” Shouted Smolder further up on the trail. The two of them quickly realized that they were behind and galloped over to catch up. Smolder the Dragoness was looking over her shoulder when they came up. She was behind Gallus, a Griffon; Yona the Yak, and in the lead was Silverstream the Hippogriff. “So, what got you guys distracted back there?”

“We were just talking about The Beatles,” Ocellus told her, “and that I’m gonna be playing one of their songs.”

Gallus asked her which one of their songs, and when she told him, he rolled his eyes. “You really should play Hey Jude, now that’s a fun one that’s catchy as Tartarus.”

“You know who The Beatles are?” Sandbar asked, an eyebrow raised.

“You’d be surprised by the amount of thrown away records we keep finding in Griffonstone.” He replied. “To be honest, before I came here, I was getting sick of Sargent Pepper being played on loop.”

“My favorite is Here Comes the Sun,” Silverstream interjected. “I love to hear it whenever I’m having a bad day. Once it starts playing, it’s like my troubles are washed away.”

“Yona thinks Beatles… okay.” Yona lifted up a hoof, waving carelessly. “Music nice. But Yona thinks pony music be better.”

“I see what you mean.” Smolder agreed. “The druggy stuff is a little too weird for my taste. But some of the other stuff isn’t that bad.”

“Well, I like them.” Ocellus said. “I still kinda wish that they might have made more songs, or at the very least meet them before they split up.”

“Too bad that half of them are still living, though.” Sandbar commented. “Hayson died of cancer, and Lemon murdered…” he shook his head. “It’s still sad, but at least McCart and Star are around, too bad that concert tickets to see either one of them costs a fortune.”

“Maybe,” the Changeling shrugged. “But you know, whenever I do play that song, I kinda daydream what it might have been like to play it along sides them. To become a Beatle, in a way.”

“Yona confused.” The Yak interjected, “Ocellus said Changelings not bugs.”

Ocellus laughed. After a while, the conversation died out as the students continued on the path when, out from the corner of the Changeling’s eye, she spotted something. Off from the path, she noticed a clearing where there was a patch of mud that looked like parts of it were glowing in a spectrum of colors. Curious, she flew over to that clearing to get a closer look.

The mud sat at the bottom of where a portion of the ground had sunken a little. But the longer she looked at it, the more colors that it changed as the soft earth illuminated from red to purple to green, to yellow, to blue and so on. She couldn’t sense any magic from this curious patch of soil as it was radiating light.

“Hey guys!” she called out, “Come look at this.” While she waited, she did what any creature would do – she reached out to touch it. At first, it just felt like ordinary mud. But when she tried to pull away, she found that she couldn’t move, as her hoof was sinking further in. “Guys!” she tried to pull away, but it kept being sunken in further. “GUYS! HELP!”

More of her foreleg was being swallowed up as if something from underneath had taken hold of her and wasn’t letting go. But while she struggled, she heard her friends come rushing in by the time her face was touching the mud. The next thing she knew, she felt their hooves and claws taking hold of her as she was sinking further. She held her breath before her head went under.

Ocellus couldn’t remember how she has woken up in a hospital bed. But the next thing she knew, her eyes were fluttering open in the sanitized lights overhead. Her vision cleared up as she could make out some figures around her. One of them leaned over her face. She could hear words with a tone that was concern. It took her a minute for her eyes and ears to readjust and process what was happening.

It was a face. And from the purple eyes, she realized who it was. Her mother was asking if she was alright.

“Mom?”

She felt being hugged by her. “Oh, thank Goddess, you’ve scared us! I almost thought we’ve lost you.”

Blinking, Ocellus took notice that not only that the rest of her family was here, but so were her friends. “What’s going on?”

“Hey Ocellus,” Smolder waved. “So long story short, you were nearly sucked into some kind of magical quicksand or something like that and you uh… almost died. We were able to pull you out, but we had to rush you over to the hospital as quickly as possible.”

“But you’re safe now,” her cherry eyed father said, placing a hoof over her head. “We got here as quick as we could to make sure you’re alright.”

Sitting up, she rubbed her hooves over her eyes. “How long am I going to be here?”

“Just overnight,” Sandbar told her. “There’s just some medicine you got to take and make sure that you don’t have anything that would make you sick.”

“Joy,” she said sarcastically, letting herself fall back and her head landing on a pillow.

“Which is why,” Smolder went around and pulled out a guitar. “I thought I’d bring this to you. That at least it would give you something to do.”

“My guitar,” she smiled, taking the instrument into her hooves. “How thoughtful of you. Since I’m going to be stuck here overnight, I might as well rehearse that song I’m practicing.”

“What song?” her mother asked.

“Oh! I don’t think you’ve heard of it yet, I just barely figured out how to play it. Do you mind if I…?”

Her parents told her to go right ahead.

Looking down at the row of strings, she took a moment to remember where exactly her hoof should be before she started to play slowly the first few bars, almost like a waltz in rhythm. And then, she began to sing. However, as she sang the first few lines that she stopped. Looking up, she noticed the faces of her parents in which they were entranced, however, what got her attention was her friends. They were looking at her wide-eyed. Amazed at what they were hearing. “What?”

“Well…” Sandbar gestured his hoof, “go on.”

Blinking, she did. As she continued on to sing, she observed the expressions of her friends. They were enchanted as if they never heard of the song before.

She couldn’t finish the song as she noticed how her friends were looking at one another. “Oh wow…” Silverstream whispered. “That was amazing! What was that?”

“Yesterday?” The Changeling answered.

“I must say,” her father told her, “that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Since when did you learn to write songs like that?” Gallus asked.

Ocellus blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about? I didn’t write it. McCart did.”

“Huh?” Sandbar tilted his head.

“You know, McCart. The Beatles.”

All her friends looked at one another, sharing a puzzled look. “Who?” The pony asked.

“The Beatles,” Ocellus said. “You know, Lemon, McCart, Hayson, and Star.” They blinked. “The Fab Four…? One of the greatest bands of all time…? Ringing any bells?”

“Is this new band?” Yona inquired.

“No! This was a group that was around in the ‘60s. Oh,” The young Changeling smirked. “I get it, this is a joke, isn’t it? Okay, ha-ha, very funny.”

“Now what are you talking about?” Gallus questioned. “We’re not pulling a prank here. You think we would when you’re in the hospital?”

“You’re…” Ocellus’s expression changed from skeptic to realization. “You’re serious?”

“Hon,” her mother asked, “are you okay?”

“But… you can’t be serious.” She insisted, ignoring her mother’s concern. “Sandbar, you introduced their music to me. They’re your favorite band.”

“Uh… no?” He shook his head, “That’s the The Who. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Still,” Smolder said, “that was still a pretty nice sounding song there.”

“Nice?!” She sat up, nearly hopping off the bed. “That wasn’t just a ‘nice sounding song!’ It’s Yesterday! One of the greatest songs ever written! How can any of you not heard of it!?”

“Ocellus,” her father said, placing a hoof on her, “calm down. We’ve never heard of it either. And while that was really good, but you still need to rest.”

“But-”

“No buts,” her mother interrupted. “Ocellus, we’re grateful that you’re back, but right now, you need to rest up and do what the doctors tell you. Okay? You can practice that lovely song all you want, but what’s important right now is you need to take care of yourself.”

Even after her friends had left and her parents after, Ocellus lay in bed, thinking. It had to be a joke. A prank. That’s what it got to be. Her family was one thing was as they never heard of The Beatles or their songs. So, their behavior was believable. But her friends? They knew perfectly well who that band was. That was a fact. They couldn’t have forgotten the Beatles.

Except… she could sense when they were talking that they were all sincere. Nothing to hint that they were lying. However, even then they couldn’t be able to forget them…

Right?

As soon as she was free to leave, Ocellus went straight towards the school’s library. She spent hours desperately searching for some trace of The Beatles.

“They got to be here somewhere…” she muttered to herself as she looked around the music section of the library the twentieth time. “I just know it!”

Be it the music section, the history, or the cultural studies sections, she came out empty. Even when she went to every record and music shop in town, there wasn’t a single piece of evidence of their music. She turned towards the shop owners, musicians playing on the street, even her music teacher, but no matter who she went to, no one, it seemed, has any idea who the Changeling is talking about.

So, late at night, she turned to the one source of knowledge that she could go to. If there was someone who knew her obscure knowledge in every field, it was Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Headmare. Flying up to the crystalline doors, banging on them at a staccato pace until a very tired looking alicorn in a nightcap opened it.

“Ocellus?” Twilight asked, rubbing an eye and yawning. “It’s the middle of the night, what are you-”

“Do you honestly not know who The Beatles are?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Why?”

Ocellus’s jaw dropped. “Oh, Goddess… Then I’m in a really, really, really, really, really, really complicated situation.” Just as the Changeling was about to leave, she felt a tug on her tail, finding the Headmare’s magic was keeping her still.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, trying to wake up. “You’re shaking, has something bad happened?”

“I… I…” Ocellus let her hunches drop to the ground. “Headmare… I think I need help.”

“Well, come inside. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Chapter 2 - Forgotten Music

In truth, Ocellus had never stepped inside the walls of her headmare’s castle before. While it’s right next door to the school, there were times that she wondered what it must be like inside. She half expected it to be a grandiose, fancy, covered top to bottom in gold and jewels that would make the Crystal Empire jealous. She thought that maybe she would find rows of servants and guards to tend her every whim around the clock.

However, when she stepped inside that, while impressive of the purple crystal walls with a tree motif and massive hallways, the Changeling was taken aback how bare it seemed. Even the humble kitchen wasn’t as big as she expected it to be. Although well stocked, it was much smaller, and she noticed that there weren’t any staff ever since she was invited in. While she sat near the wooden table in the middle of the room where overhead pots and pan were hanging over, Twilight insisted that she make them tea.

“Forgive me if I come off as rude,” Ocellus began, “but don’t you have anyone to do that for you?”

“What makes you say that?” Her Headmare asked once she stuck in the tea leaves into the pot and put it over the stove.

“I mean… you are a princess, and I just assumed that you would have a, uh… servant staff to do this for you.”

She tilted her head a little. “Don’t you know that I don’t have servants?”

“What about Spike?”

“He’s my assistant. I never once saw him as a servant. He’s like family to me.” She sat down next to her. “So, what’s going on with you? Why did you decide to wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It’s uh… It’s hard to put it into words.”

“But try anyway. The first step to address whatever problem is to address it. Something has clearly gotten under your skin – so to speak – and is bothering you.”

Ocellus fiddled with her hooves, looking down and not looking at Twilight. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“Why?”

“Because… something happened to me recently and I… I’ve no idea what to do. You remember when I asked you that question if you’ve heard of The Beatles?”

“That was a couple of minutes ago.”

She looked up. “Do you swear that you’ve never heard of any pop-rock group by that name?”

“Honestly? I thought you were referring to the bug, beetle.”

The Changeling sighed into her hooves. “It was like yesterday that everycreature has heard of them, knew the songs and were well respected. And now… I can’t find any trace that they existed. It’s like…” she looked up again, “for you, it’ll be the equivalent that when you wake up tomorrow morning, only to discover that nobody knows who Shakespur is. No one remembers the plays or his poetry, except for you. What exactly would you have done in something like that?”

“Oh…” Twilight tapped her chin. “Big question there. But I think what you’re saying is that you remember something that is culturally important, only no one else does.” Ocellus nodded. “Well… in theory, if I were in those horseshoes, and if I feel strongly that this is something worth sharing… I’d do what I can to preserve those ideas before they’re lost forever. I mean, with Shakespur alone, I can’t imagine a world without A Mid Summer’s Night Dream, or Roanio and Filliet, or even The Tempest. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to catch the genius of his writing style, but maybe I could bring back his stories.”

“Yeah, but music is different.” Ocellus said. “With music, it doesn’t work unless you know every note. With The Beatles, they’ve written about a hundred songs and I only know some of them.” She gasped, “Can I even remember the lyrics?! Uh…” she closed her eyes. At first, she tried to remember songs such as Come Together, Yellow Submarine, and even the song that Dawn Lemon wrote Imagine. Yet, regardless of how hard she tried to concentrate, the lyrics were muddied and mixed up. And Ocellus knew it. She banged her head on the table. “I’m forgetting! I can’t remember some of them!”

She felt a hoof on her back. “Ocellus, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “I’m the only one in the world that remembers their songs… but I can’t even do that! I remember the melodies and a hoofful of songs but that’s about it. And I can only play one among the hundreds they’ve made.” Lifting her head, tears were streaming down from them. “I can’t do this… W-What am I going to do?”

Twilight had to spend the next couple of minutes trying to calm her down. Soon enough, the tea was finished and after pouring a couple of cups and drying her tears. Eventually, the Princess asked her, “So… do you remember anything from them?”

Ocellus nodded, “Apart from Yesterday, I remember how some of the tunes go. I wish I could play them, except I don’t know much how to write music, or even…” She paused, looking into the reflection of her teacup, an idea dawned on her. “…. Unless…”

“What?”

“Suppose… The Beatles that I know were a popular band in the 60s, some of them were still alive. So, do you think that maybe… they could be still around. Headmare, even if I could remember every song, with every note and lyric, I don’t feel comfortable taking the credit for something that isn’t mine. I do feel that these songs shouldn’t be forgotten, but I don’t want my name attached to something that isn’t my work. This music needs to be put back where it belongs… but I can’t do this by myself.”

Twilight smiled. “I’m proud of you for taking up such a responsibility. However, I can’t help but think that if you can’t find them, would you still credit these songs as your own?”

“Like, if they don’t exist?” Twilight nodded. “I… I’m not sure. But I still need to find them, that is if they’re still alive. If there’s anyone in the whole world that could bring back what is stolen, it’s them.”

“But do you know what their names are? Even if this band exists, do you have an idea who they are or where they might be?”

She nodded, “All I know is that they came from Trottingham, and their names are Pull McCart, Dawn Lemon, Forge Hayson and Mango Star. They’re most likely be really old by now-”

“Mango Star?” Twilight blinked, “As in the comedian?”

Ocellus’s jaw dropped the second time that night. “Wait! You know him!?”

Twilight shrugged, “Not much really. When Spike and I were trying to return a library book, I remember seeing an old poster and when we got to the retirement place, I saw his face through a window. He’s most likely retired now.”

“Headmare, I need to go talk to him.”

“What?” She asked surprised, “Ocellus, you have school tomorrow-”

“If you have a chance to bring back Shakespur while he’s still around, would you?”

There was a pause between them. “You really believe in this?” She nodded. After a sigh, Twilight thought it over for a good solid minute. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “I will take you to that retirement center first thing in the morning to find your missing band. But in exchange, you will have to do your schoolwork and I will keep an eye to make sure that you do that work. Deal?”

She shook her hoof. “Deal.”

It took all morning to reach Silver Stable Community, and on the train over, Ocellus had spent her time looking through her homework and textbooks while Twilight was nearby. However, making westward towards the coast, they’ve finally reached the retirement place. They entered the main building towards the reception desk.

“Now I can’t guarantee that he might be here or if he’s available,” Twilight told her as they walked in. “However, I can promise that I will do what I can to see if Mango is open to talking to us.”

“And make sure you ask for the others,” Ocellus insisted.

“I doubt that they would be here, but I’ll try.” She said, stopping at a row of chairs were a few ponies sat there waiting. “Stay right here, I’m gonna go check. But if I don’t find anypony that’s connected to that group, we’re going straight back to Ponyville.” With that, Twilight turned and walked towards the reception desk.

The blue Changeling took a seat next to a pony. A long-maned stallion who held onto a cardboard box, waiting. This wouldn’t catch much of her interest was that this pony’s cutie mark was a guitar, and his face bears a resemblance to- “Can I help you?”

Ocellus was caught off guard, if not a bit embarrassed that she was staring. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just…”

“What?”

“You uh… reminded me of someone.”

“Oh?” He then took notice of Twilight talking to someone at the reception desk. “So, uh… You with the Princess?”

She nodded, “Yeah. We’re looking for someone. It’s… It’s really complicated, but we’re trying to find someone that used to be a musician and… I just really hope they’re around.”

“Yeah? Who are you trying to find, if you mind of me asking?”

“Chances are, you probably never heard of him. Someone name Mango Star.”

The stallion went quiet, “The Comedian?”

“I guess s-”

“Who used to be a drummer.”

Now it was Ocellus’s turn to be surprised. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m trying to get ahold of him myself.” He said, tapping the box. “My dad had used to be in a band, and he passed away some time ago. Recently I found this box that had some of his stuff and I thought that maybe I could at least give it to one dad’s friends.”

The Changeling went quiet for a solid minute, it became awkward to the point where he had to ask her if she’s okay. “Sir… what’s your name?” she finally asked.

“Hayson,” he replied. “Name’s Dandelion Hayson. I’m in a band myself and… seriously, are you okay?”

In truth, Ocellus was in a state of shock. “Oh, dear goddess… this is… I… c-could I shake your hoof?”

Dandelion blinked, “I guess so? I didn’t do anything special.”

“Actually, Mr. Hayson,” she said shaking his hoof, “your dad was one of the ponies I was looking for.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

She took a moment to think about her next words carefully. “It’s just… Let’s say that I might be one of the few that’s… aware of ponies like your dad. And I want to do what I can to uh… bring them to the limelight.”

Twilight returned to tell her that they could go ahead to meat Mango.

Chapter 3 - Mango Star

Twilight, Ocellus, and Dandelion were pointed towards a particular set of apartment complexes. Two-floor buildings in which resembled that of a motel and each door had a picture of the resident. Almost immediately, the young Changeling spotted which one Mango was in by one of the pictures. A big-nosed stallion with glasses, thin mustache, with a coat of red and yellow and a green mane.

Hesitation nearly made her unable to approach the door. However, Twilight beat her to it by knocking on the door. The Headmare looked over her shoulder. “You coming?”

Nodding, she hastily went up to the door nervously. While they waited and they can hear movement inside, Dandelion spoke up his observation. “Why are your legs shaking?” He asked the Changeling.

“It’s… c-complicated.”

The door suddenly opened briefly with someone saying: “I don’t accept butter toasts on Thursdays.” Before being closed. However, before it could do so, the door paused for a moment before being opened wide to the stallion in the picture. A slightly wrinkled face blinked a couple of times. “Hang on… Dandelion? What are you doin’ with a princess and a Changeling in blue?”

“Hey Mango,” Dandelion said, hugging him. “Long time no see.”

“That’s an understatement, haven’t seen you around since you a baby.”

Hayson snarked, “C’mon, you saw me last week.”

“And not give these two ladies the impression that I’m old? How rude.” He chuckled. “But come in! I was gonna put the kettle on.”

The three of them entered into the small apartment, Ocellus immediately took notice of a wall with photographs in them. She scanned in hopes to find something, anything that suggests what might have happened to The Beatles.

“You’re that other Princess, aren’t you?” Mango asked, slipping into the kitchen.

“You can just call me Twilight, sir.” She told him.

“It isn’t every day you get paid a visit by royalty. So how exactly do you know me?”

“Truthfully? I don’t, but my student seems to know what you used to do.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah Mango,” Dandelion told him, sitting on a couch. “Apparently she’s heard about when you were a drummer.”

“Seriously? That was ages ago.” He poked his head out, “Eh, miss? What’s your name again?”

The Changeling refocused on the old stallion. “Ocellus, sir.”

“O-cell-us…” He said slowly, letting the words move around in his mouth. “That sounds like the name of a medication for a sleep disorder.” He ducked his head back in. “So Ocellus, how did you hear about me?”

“Well… it’s kinda a long story. But… were you ever part of a band?”

“Yes. Back when I was young.” Mango told her as they heard cups being taken out and put down. “About… fifty or so years ago, I think. My, has it been that long already? Yeah, I used to be in a band. I was a drummer once. It was made of me and three other fellas in Trottingham back in the late fifties, early sixties. Ha… That used to be fun at first when we called ourselves Th-”

“The Beatles.”

The kitchen went very quiet for a minute. In that stillness, Twilight was about to go see what was happening. That was until Mango walked out, amazed. “How the blazes did you know that?”

“It’s… complicated.” She replied. “Look, the point is that I might be the only being in the world that’s aware of what you used to be. If I did try to tell you how exactly I know, you wouldn’t believe me. But all you need to know is that I knew you guys were once a band. Only… something happened. Something different.”

“Being cryptic, aren’t we?” Mango said. “You miss don’t look to be anywhere near as old as I am. But I am rather curious how you know the band name when everyone else has forgotten.”

“I just… I just do. Yeah, I know that’s not a good enough answer, but at the moment, it’s the best I got. So… I came all this way to ask you,” she walked forward towards him. “What happened to The Beatles?”

He let out a breath, in a tried sigh sort of way. “Golly… Never in me life have I ever thought that anyone would have been interested. Ponies back then certainly weren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Mango returned to the kitchen as he explained. “Well… we did try. I’ll tell ya that. We really tried hard going to gigs just ta get noticed. Sure, Pull and Dawn wrote up some new songs and the four of us pulled together what we had into band competitions or just tryin’ ta get a record deal from someone. But… no luck. We tried, and tried, but by… I want to say… ’64, things got so bad, morale so low, and Pull and Dawn got so frustrated with everything and each other… We just couldn’t do it anymore. We quit. The band fell apart and we went our own ways just ta get by.

“Not to say that we didn’t at least try ta keep in touch now and then. Pull got married and Forge had a son. Dawn took up painting in watercolors last I heard. Once in a blue moon, we’d run into each other somehow ta see how the other is doin’. As for me, I became a stand-up comedian, got married, had a son that, I heard last that he’s getting a job as a drummer for a band soon. Of course, now and then I also run into the kids as well. Oh! That reminds me, Dandelion, what do you got in that box of yours?”

“Oh! Right!” Hayson said. “I just found this when I was going through dad’s old room. And I found some stuff that I felt that should be for you guys to keep.”

“What is it?” Ocellus inquired.

The stallion sitting on the couch opened up the lid. “There’s just some pictures and sheet music. Some of which I remembered he used to sing to me when I was having a bad day.”

“Oh, that’s rather nice of…” her eyes widen. “Sheet music?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think he wrote this stuff after he broke up with his band.”

“Let me see those!” The Changeling rushed over to peek her head inside the box. But before she could touch it, however, she found her hoof frozen in her Headmare’s aura.

“Ocellus! You don’t just grab things that aren’t yours.”

“Besides,” Dandelion said getting up. “I’m giving this to one of my dad’s friends.”

“So why me?” Mango asked.

“Well, I can’t find Pull or Dawn, knowing that those two tend to go everywhere. Plus, out of the three of them, I know where you are most of the time.” He trotted into the kitchen in which Ocellus followed. “So here, I think this stuff should be yours.”

After Mango put the kettle off when it started to whistle, he took ahold of the box to set it on the counter and looked inside. “Hey! I remember these.” He said, pulling out a few black-and-white photographs. “I remember when we started on the village green when somepony took this. Oh! And this one,” the Changeling saw this picture where it showed a younger Mango at the drums in which had the words “The Beatles” on them. “This was after Dawn came up with the name.”

“So why Beatle?” Twilight asked walking into the kitchen and seeing the photo.

“That was Dawn’s idea. When we got started, ponies asked us what we were called. So he said Beatle. After all, it was only a name like shoe.” He chuckled. “Yes, we could have been called ‘The Shoes,’ for all you know. And… oh hey!” He pulled sheet music. “These were the songs we did!”

“Can I see?” Ocellus pleaded, looking over the older stallion’s shoulder. “‘From Me To You,’ ‘She Loves You,’ ‘I Saw Her Standing There,’ ‘Love Me Do,’ ‘Please Please Me,’ ‘P.S. I Love You,’ ‘I Want to Hold Your Hoof,’ ‘I Feel Fine,’ ‘There’s a Place,’” she gasped, “‘Twist and Shout!’ That one is one of my favorites!”

“You sure you’re a young lady?” Mango jabbed. “Then you must be ancient to have heard some of these like… wait…” He pulled up some other sheet music. “I don’t remember playing any of these.”

“That’s my dad’s,” Hayson told him. “If anything, those songs he wrote them for me when I was growing up.”

The Changeling took hold of the sheet music and read off the titles. “‘Something…’ ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ ‘If I Need Someone,’ and… ‘Here Comes the Sun!’ This is amazing! They’re still here!”

Mango took a step back and spoke over to Twilight, “Princess, I think this one needs some psychotherapy.”

“So, hold on!” Ocellus turned to the ye old Beatle, “Does this mean that Pull and Dawn still wrote song-”

“Oh goodness no! Those two gave up on music a long time ago. Plus, I’m pretty sure those two hadn’t spoken to one another in years.”

“And you two sure you don’t know where they are?”

Dandelion shrugged, “Do you think I would be here if I did?”

“And don’t look at me,” Mango said, “I don’t keep track where those two headed off. Dawn alone, he could be anywhere by now.”

“So…” Ocelles’s ears folded back, “I take it there’s no hope of bringing the band back together?”

Mango shook his head. “Filly, I hadn’t touched the drums since the sixties. I’m far too out of practice myself. None of us, except for Forge had picked up an instrument after the incident. If you’re trying to do what I think you’re trying to do, I’m sorry to tell ya that it’s not gonna work.”

“But… But this can’t happen!” The Changeling pleaded. “Your guy’s music is somehow been criminally underrated and taken for granted. I can’t stand by and let something like Yesterday fade into nothing.”

“Yesterday?” Dandelion asked. “What’s that?”

She waved a hoof, “It’s a song I know that Pull and Dawn wrote… or probably didn’t now.”

“How does it go?” Mango asked.

Ocellus said that it would be best to play it, but she didn’t bring her guitar. Twilight suggested of going towards the music center where she remembered that there were instruments there. However, Mango suggested that if she remembered how it went, then she could just simply sing it. So, slumping in a chair, her eyes closed and forehooves over her eyes, took in some calming breaths while the old Beatle was starting to pour the hot water into cups.

Then, she began to sing one of the few songs she had memoried. Of how all her troubles were once someplace else but now, she was stuck with them.

In the middle of singing acapella, she noticed how quiet the room had gotten. Looking up, she gasped as she saw tears running down Mango’s cheek. “Oh Goddesses! I’m sorry! Did I overstep something?”

He sniffed as he wiped away the tears. “No… That was quite something… and something that Pull and Dawn would have written that… It just brought memories is all. I never heard of it before, but I must say, if there’s anypony I know that would have written something like that, it would have been them.” Then as he put the tea bags into the cups, his eyes widen. “You know, why not you sing them?”

“Say what?”

“Those songs. You have a sweet-sounding voice there.”

“B-But I can’t!”

“Why not?” Hayson said. “Whatever that was, it was good. Like… really good. If that was just one song, I’m curious to see how you’d do with the others in that box.”

“I-I don’t…” Ocellus shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, these songs are still yours and-”

“Here, how about this?” Mango said carrying the tray over. “If Dandelion over here says that you can sing these songs, then you’d have my permission too. The band may have lost faith in these songs, but you haven’t. If you really believe that these songs deserve a second chance, then, why stop you?”

“And I will help you,” Twilight said. “Just as long as you promise to work on your classes, and to give credit to who compose these songs, then I will lend a hoof to bring a song like what you just sang into public consciousness.”

All of them turned to Dandelion. He took a moment to consider, “You know what… If dad were around, I think he would let you sing his songs too. But of course, the only thing that I ask is don’t steal these as your own.”

Ocellus sighed as Mango gave her cup. “It’s… It’s such a big responsibility. I don’t know if I could pull something like this off but… You’re right Mr. Star, I do have faith in these songs. If I’m lucky, maybe I could find Pull and Dawn too so they could help me put back what was stolen. But for now, I only promise to try.”

Chapter 4 - New Songs at a School Dance

From the way back of the retirement community, Ocellus was plotting. It was no secret of how massive such an undertaking was. After all, she may very well be the last person in the world to know who The Beatles were, but she was still a student – and a young one at that. She had begun her musical training, and now she was tasked to bring the music of one of the most influential bands of all time back to public consciousness. The only question she had on her mind was how to do it? How would she, a young Changeling, bring their music back? Especially when she doesn’t have all the music?

After speaking to her Headmare, Twilight did agree that this was indeed a monumental task but suggested that perhaps she should start off small. She recommended that first, she must at least try to master the songs she was given, and suggested to have her music teacher, Octavia to help her out. “If you could learn maybe four or so songs,” she told her, “then in a school dance, you could sing them. I could organize a dance to give you the excuse to shine.”

Ocellus thought it was a good idea.

So, for the next serval weeks right after school, Ocellus went straight to Octavia’s home to rehearse a few of these songs. If anything, her teacher was rather surprised that one of her students wanted to learn some forgotten songs from the ’60s, especially when she read a few of the sheet music that she wasn’t that impressed with it. However, Ocellus did change her mind when she sang Yesterday to her and said that she hoped she could help her developed the song with a string orchestra one day. It more or less sealed the deal.

Not to say that her frequent visit to her music teacher didn’t go unnoticed. One night after practice, Ocellus walked into the student lounge, guitar on her back in which she was confronted by her friends playing cards.

“Well,” Smolder said, folding her cards, “look who’s finally decided to grace her presence.”

“Huh?”

“Did you forget?” Gallus asked without looking up. “Tonight is game night and you promised you’d be here an hour ago.”

Ocellus gasped, “Oh! Is it past seven already?”

“So, where’ve you been off to?” Silverstream asked. “This past two weeks you’ve kept disappearing on us. What’s going on?”

Blushing at realizing how neglectful she’s been, she set her guitar down. “I’m really sorry guys, I’ve got so caught up that I forgot.”

“What Ocellus been doing?” Yona inquired.

“You see, I wanted to keep this a surprise but… I’m gonna be playing for the school dance coming up.”

Now, this caught her friend’s attention. “Really?” Sandbar asked.

She nodded. “Yeah… It’s a long… complicated story, but to put it short, I’ve found some old songs and decided to sing them. I talked with Headmare Twilight and she said that she’d lend a hoof to give me a stage to do just that. Lately, I’ve been going to my music teacher more often to not just practice, but her roommate is helping me record some karaoke versions of what I’m gonna be playing so all I need to do is play my guitar and sing the melody.”

“That sounds cool!” Silverstream said. “So, you’re committing these songs to memory?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Okay,” Smolder folded her arms, “if that’s true, you mind singing one?”

Ocellus blinked. “What? Right here? Now?”

“Why not? If you’re really are gonna be singing for the upcoming dance, I want to see if you could do it.”

She told her that she could. So, picking up her guitar and sitting on her haunches, she strung a few cords. “Okay… This is an old song, written by Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. It’s called, Please Please Me.”

Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and her friends were waiting for her to see what exactly she was practicing for. In her mind, she pictured a metronome so that she could be on the beat, and aloud, she counted.

“One two three four, one two three and…”

She began to play.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEnf2mste4M

It was a love song, one where she asked of her girl to please her as she did. A simple song with simple lyrics, and yet, she sang with much love as the song was.

When her playing comes to an end, she heard the sound of applause from her friends. Opening her eyes, she spotted Smolder nodding.

“Not bad.” She told her, “It’s okay as far as songs go, but still, it’s not bad.”

“Kinda sounds old,” Sandbar pointed out, “where did you dig this up?”

“It’s a long story, but for now,” she yawned. “I know that I’m supposed to hang out with you guys, but I’m feeling rather tired right now. I’d like to go to bed here.”

Although she could sense their disappointment, they let her go to her room so she could get some sleep.

“You got to admit,” Silverstream said, “that was pretty good.”

“Maybe,” Sandbar shrugged. “I still prefer The Who better. But I can hear that she has put a good deal of effort into that.”

“Yona thinks we should go to dance.” Their Yak friend suggested. “Ocellus clearly worked hard on song, maybe Yona’s friends should go to cheer her on.”

Gallus raised an eyebrow, “Is no creature gonna bring up the elephant in the room?” Off of them looked at him.

“What are you talking about?” Smolder asked.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t listen to music very often,” he observed, “but you ever noticed that whenever a male singer does a love song that it’s meant towards someone who’s female and vice-versa?”

“Where are you going with this?” Sandbar questioned.

“All I’m saying, that is no one questioning why Ocellus is singing a love song that’s clearly meant for someone who’s female?”

Now the student lounge went quiet for a good solid minute.

“Are you suggesting-?” Smolder asked but Gallus interrupted.

“I’m not. For all I know, maybe she’s singing the original song word for word. But I’m just saying that it’s interesting for her to sing a love song to, as she puts it, ‘my girl.’” He turned back to his cards. “Food for thought.”

Ocellus took in a deep breath. Guitar in her hooves, she peeked behind a column towards the stage where everything she needed was there. A simple raised stage with speakers, a few buttons for her to step on to play the songs, and a microphone. In front of it was the students and teachers chatting and waiting for someone to play. Slinking back out of sight, the Changeling took in some deep breaths to calm and steady herself.

“You doing okay there, Ocellus?” She looked up at the Dragoness who just walked up to her.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Yep. Just nerves is all.”

Smolder raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for this? It’s no secret to me that this is probably the first time you’re doing this in front of a crowd.”

“I’ve noticed…”

There was a pause between them.

“You know you don’t have to.” She told her. “Twilight, as far as I know, has a backup with Spike so if you can’t go through with it, I get it.”

“No.” Ocellus shook her head. “I have to do this.”

“Why?” Her friend tilted her head. “Look, it’s not that I don’t think you’ll do well – heck, even I’ve noticed how much you’ve gotten better at playing that guitar – it’s just… I don’t want to have any of my friends be forced into doing something they don’t want to. Ya know?”

She sighed, “Smolder… I can sense your concern for me. And I do get it. However, what I’m about to do… is bigger than me (as pretentious as that sounds). I don’t expect any of you to get it, but I do feel that these songs are important.”

“Even though they’re kinda… old fashion?” her friend questioned. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re not bad by any means. Just that it seems a little odd that you’re playing something that would easily fit a good fifty or so years ago.”

Ocellus nodded. “Yeah… even I admit that these fit in a different time. But I’ve heard once that the thing about good music is that they will never, ever age. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if anyone out there will remember the tunes after I played, but I cannot at least try to give these songs a second chance.”

Smolder hesitated for a moment, trying to think of what to say. However, she ended up putting a claw on her friend’s shoulder. “Then you know what? I’d say give it a shot. You’ve come this far and gotten this good, might as well give it a try.”

“Thanks, Smolder.” She said, smiling.

“Okay then,” the two of them turned to find Spike approaching. “It’s all set and ready to go, Ocellus. So before you do this, I’m gonna go up there and introduce you. And since you’re basically starting out as a one-mare band, do you want to go by a different name for tonight?”

After thinking about it for a moment, Ocellus smiled up at him. “Could you call me, The Beatle?”

“I… guess so?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Why Beatle? That isn’t offensive to Changelings, is it?”

She shrugged, “Not the last time I’ve checked.”

“Okay…”

“Oh! And before you go up, do you remember who wrote these songs?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Never heard of them but I got their names right here,” he pointed at his head. Before he went to introduce her, he asked her if there was anything else and Ocellus told him to go ahead.

Spike said before flying up to the mic on stage. “Good evening everycreature! Are you ready to get this party started!” The school cheered. “Tonight’s music is about to be performed by one of the students here at the School of Friendship! The first time she’s performing with songs by Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, give a round of applause for… The Beatle!”

Ocellus breathed in deeply. “Wish me luck.”

Smolder patted her shoulder. “You really believe in these songs?” She asked and the Changeling nodded. “You’ll do good. Now go out and knock ‘em out. Literally, if you have to!”

This got a nervous chuckle out of her as she opened up her wings and flew over to the stage. Standing in front of the microphone with spotlights on her and before the eyes of a good chunk of the school, she steadied herself. Waiting for her to do something and that if she did something wrong, then all those hours and days practicing saving those songs would have gone to waste. ‘Goddesses, is this what it was like for them?’ She wondered, clearing her throat, she spoke into the microphone. “H-Hi everyone. How are all of you d-doing?”

There was a polite applause, if not muted.

“Okay, let’s get started, shall we?” She asked, strumming her guitar once. “How about we start this off on a f-fun note? This first one is called ‘S-She Loves You.’” Despite the awkwardness, she looked upon the waiting crowd and spotted her friends near the back. She saw Sandbar and Yona waving at her. Silverstream and Smolder smiling, giving her the thumbs up while Gallus leaned back with a cocked eyebrow.

Taking in a deep breath, she looked down at the buttons at her hooves and pressed the first one on her left. With the speakers started to play drums, she began to sing with a joyful voice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPOS5fJgff0

What came out of her mouth started relaxed at first, a love song that tells the audience that the crush does love them back. Before she was even finished, her confidence grew when she saw students at first nodding, tapping their hooves to the beat before starting to sway side to side. She saw a sea of smiles, that despite how old fashion the song may sound, the students there were beginning to fall in love with it. Even among her friends in the back, they started to dance before she reached the final chorus. Maybe, these songs did have a second chance after all.

Outside of the school, a tried stallion with a briefcase dragged his tried hooves across the ground. It was late and given how tired he was, he reasoned that it’s best to find some local inn to retire for the night. After all, it’s not best to go door to door to try to pitch a sell at this hour. Given how exhausted the train ride to Ponyville was, he wouldn’t pay any attention to the school he was passing by if it weren’t for something that caught his ear.

He paused, his ears perked up as, apart from the crying applause, there was a familiar sound. Too familiar. It was the sound of a drum set, a bass, two guitars, and one voice singing above it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3ER4NllJZQ

Turning his head towards the school to where there was a dance going on through the open doors, the sale’s pony approached it as a passionate, joyful song projected out into the night. He came into the light, a blue stallion with a messy dark blue mane and a face full of wrinkles. Through the front doors of the school, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.

It was not just the Changeling on stage, nor the students who were dancing to the tune. Nor was it because of how old fashion the song was given its style. What shocked him, however, was the song itself. It was a song that was from long ago. A song he knew. A song, he co-wrote.

“That… That’s me song…” he muttered; jaw dropped. “That’s me bloody song…”

He watched as Ocellus played her heart out on stage, singing into the mic. Every lyric, every note, down to the key change in tone and rhythm was familiar. Even though he hadn’t sung it in years, he knew the song as a father would recognize their own child. Especially when she sang into the microphone "I wanna hold your hoof!"

On stage, Ocellus finished up playing the song with a happy shout of, “Thank you everycreature! Goodnight!” Much to the roaring applause as she exited flying off to where her friend was at.

“That was amazing!” Sandbar said. “I didn’t know you had that in you!”

“That was so scary,” Ocellus said with a smile on her face, “but so exciting, I mean, wow! What a rush!”

“What did I tell ya?” Smolder told her. “You did good up there.”

While the Changeling was being given compliments from her friends, she failed to notice the old sale’s pony entering into the hall and going towards her. She wasn’t calmed down from her rush on stage until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She looked over.

She froze.

“Young lady,” the stallion said, “where did you learn that song?”

Her jaw dropped.

“P-Pull McCart!?”

He leaned in closer, a frown on his face.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a serious tone, “Where, did you learn to play that song?”

Chapter 5 - Pull McCart

“So, Forge wrote our songs down after all?” Pull McCart asked.

Ocellus nodded. “Y-Yes, sir.” Never in the Changeling’s life would she have a private chat with someone that she considered to be a genius. Out in the school’s courtyard on a bench, with the lights from the windows and the moon overhead to illuminate them, the Changeling pulled the old sale’s pony aside so that she could at least explain a few things.

“Mango and Forge’s son gave you permission to sing them?”

She nodded again. “Headmare Twilight saw it and can confirm this. Honestly, Mr. McCart, I never mean any disrespe-”

“Honestly,” he interrupted, “I’m just… surprised is all.”

There was a pause between them.

“So…” Ocellus began. “Are you… mad at me?”

“Huh? What- no… No, I’m not angry. Just… Well… I’m a bit shocked is all. That all that work we did when we were young was such a waste… and yet… here I am years later ta hear cheers – actual cheers from strangers at a dance. And there you are, singin’ your heart out… Songs that I nearly forgot about and yet…” He shook his head.

“Well…” Ocellus twiddled her hooves, not looking at him in the eye. “To tell you the truth, sir… I uh… I’m a fan of yours.”

“Are you now?” He raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. “Well, you and Dawn, and Forge, and Mango… I might be the only one in the world that has any idea what kind of talent and genius you guys had that…” her kind words faded when her ears perked up. Pull was laughing. “Sir?”

“I’m sorry, young lady.” He said between chuckles. “It’s just… that idea that any of us had talent is…” he laughed harder. By the time he caught his breath to look over at the Changeling’s direction, he saw an expression of shock, devastation even. His face softens. “Look, it’s sweet of you to say that… but it’s not true at all. When we started out, none of us were geniuses. We barely knew how to play any music, let alone write anything down! Our band back in the day had its run and it didn’t turn out well. Mis, we’ve moved on. I’ve moved on. Music is one thing, but I’ve learned that you still got to support yerself. Now I have a wife, a little family that’s depending on me with these sales.”

“T-That’s not true.” Ocellus shook her head. “Mr. McCart, I don’t know what happened, but you don’t understand what this music means to someone like me. The songs that I know… it changed the world. It changed how music seen. The stuff you and Dawn wrote, is on par with Moztrot and Buch! They were creative, invited, fun, sophisticated, all at the same time! And…” She looked at his face. He wasn’t buying it.

“Lady,” he said, “I know you’re young, but take it from on old geezer like me when I tell you this: music is nice… but it can’t change the world. We tried. It didn’t work. I’m sorry I have to tell you, but this isn’t going to go anywhere. No amount of composing or lyrics could change what has already been done. Call me jaded, but I doubt that a pretty song could change this one’s mind.” Getting up and picking his briefcase with him, he bid her goodbye.

“No! Wait! I still need you!” Ocellus begged as McCart started to walk out. She had to figure out something to change his mind and fast, some way to prevent those brilliant songs from disappearing forever. In that panic, as she watched the old stallion walking towards the exit, she combed through her mind of what knowledge she had on the Beatles for something… anything to convince him otherwise.

Then, her eyes widen as a song came into mind. She began to sing, a song that made McCart froze. One in which made him turned around, his jaw dropped as she continued with the next verse of what few songs she knew by heart. One in which the end of each lyric ended with "Let it be."

The old sales pony dropped his briefcase. Ocellus saw in the Beatle’s eyes, tears forming. Gasping, she blurted out, “Pull! I-I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and-”

“That was beautiful.” Pull sniffed. “I never heard anything so…” he shook his head, “now who wrote that?”

A part of Ocellus wanted for her to scream “You did!” but considering the circumstance, she responded. “Well… it’s complicated to explain but… it was inspired by you.”

“Me?” He blinked, “Sorry, but I don’t follow. That tune back there, that was inspired by me?”

She nodded. “Forgive me for about to say something personal, but that song, it was inspired from when something tragic happened to you.”

He stared at her, “So you just made that up on the spot?”

“No… Let’s just say that I have a funny kind of memory. Like having memories that might have been from another universe. Where I know it happened but for some reason didn’t.”

“Yeah? And what do you remember?”

“That uh… this is gonna sound crazy but… I remember that you wrote that song.” Pull didn’t reply for a long time. “I remembered that my friend said that in an interview you did, what inspired you to write that song, ‘Let it Be,’ came about from a difficult moment in your life. After your… mom… died. You were grieving and one night, you had a dream that she came to you.”

“Telling me the same thing she always did in life,” Pull said, “She told me, ‘Pull, let it be.’” He nodded. “Yes, I remember that part, but I certainly don’t recall writing a song about that. However, it’s very beautiful. Very… personal.”

She nodded, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“No no, it’s alright.” He said, “I’ve grieved long enough for mom. It’s strange, really, that tune, in how it flows and the lyrics… that’s the kind of song that I would have wrote if I had talent.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Ocellus exclaimed, “You have talent! You and Dawn both!”

Pull frowned. “Me and that airhead? Now that I find it hard to believe.”

“Please listen to me. I know that to you, none of this makes any sense at all. Heck, if I were in your horseshoes, I wouldn’t believe a word of it. But I’m facing a difficult problem that… I can’t do this by myself. I can only recall melodies and a few lyrics here and there, but that’s it. These songs… they’re some of the most powerful songs ever written and yet, they’re nearly gone. If there’s anyone out there that could bring back what was stolen from culture in general… it’s you and Dawn.”

“Lady, what are you trying to ask me?”

Ocellus scratched the back of her head. “Well… to piece these songs back together, I guess.”

Pull shook his head. “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking. I haven’t picked up an instrument since the 60s. You’re asking me to do something I’ve forgotten how to do. I’m not a musician. I’m not a songwriter. I’m just a sales pony from Trottingham. A-And even if I could, it still would be impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you want to get Dawn involved… Filly, we haven’t spoken to each other in decades. Even if I wanted to get the band back together, I don’t have a clue where he’s gone off to.”

Ocellus squeezes her eyes tight. “Mr. McCart… I’m not asking to bring the band back together. All I’m asking is some help.”

The older stallion raised an eyebrow. “So why are you doing this?” He questioned. “What’s in it for you anyway? You’re obviously trying to gain something out of me.”

The young Changeling hesitated for a long time. Before McCart’s patience ran out, she replied. “I don’t want to take credit for something that isn’t mine.” She told him. “In fact, tonight at the dance, do you know what the very first thing I did? I told my whole school that I will be playing songs that were written by you and Dawn Lemon. And do you know why? I don’t care if the songs I sing make a single bit. I’m doing this because I feel strongly that the songs you two created are important in the grand scheme of things. These are songs that changed lives, saved lives, gave inspiration, hope, wonder, comfort, and a dream that the world can get better. Now that somehow those songs were never written or sang… a world without the music of The Beatles is not much of a world that’s worth living in.”

“…. You really believe in all that?” Ocellus nodded. Scratching his head, he replied: “That… That’s the first time I’ve heard anyone that believed that the band could amount to something. Still,” he said, picking up his briefcase and opening it up to look through some papers, “even if I could help, I don’t know how much use I would be. Not to mention that I still have a job to do. Going to door to door and all…” He paused. “Oh, you have got to be joking.”

“What?”

McCart didn’t say anything.

“What is it?” Ocellus asked again.

He frowned. “He lives here.”

“What?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “Either they have the same name and age, or Dawn has finally found a place to live.”

“What!”

“Yeah, here in town apparently.” He put the papers back in his briefcase. “At least I know one particular address to avoid.”

“Waitwaitwaitwait!” Ocellus galloped over till she was in front of him. “Are you telling me that Dawn Lemon, thee Dawn Lemon, lives right here in Ponyville!?”

“I hope not.” He said, walking around her. “At best, I better find a hotel to rest for the-”

Ocellus was right in front of his face.

“What does he live?”

He blinked. “What? Now? At this hour?”

“Yes.” She said, narrowing her eyes.

Pull frowned. “Filly, I appreciate you being a fan and your compliments to our music, but right now it’s late and I need to get some…” in a flash of green fire, a titanic bear with a look that threatened to rip his head off stood before him.

“Where… Does… He… Live…?” She asked through her sharp, pointy teeth.

He gulped. “Well… when you put it like that…” he thumbed to open his briefcase and pull out the list of addresses. “1940 Apple Road.”

“That’s on the other side of town.” Ocellus said to herself as she picked the sales pony by her bear claws. “You are coming with me. I don’t care what happened in the past between you two, you are going to go up there, and at the very least find some way to tolerate each other so you two could help me out. Got it?”

“Ah great,” Pull moaned, “I’m dealing with a mental case.”

Chapter 6 - Dawn Lemon

There was a series of knocks that had woken up the old green stallion. Noticing that it was still dark outside, he turned on a lamp near the nightstand, putting on his rounded glasses to see what time it was. 1:45 in the morning. Scratching his brown, messy beard, he sat up after another round of knocks, he wondered who would want him at this time of night.

Slumping over to put on his house robe and slippers, he walked out of his bedroom, past the rows of unfinished paintings and buckets of paint towards the front door. There were more knocks, quicker and more desperate than before.

“I think I’d heard ya the first time!” He called out. “Just hold on there.” Unlocking the bolts on his door, he swings it open to a very large bare in front of him, along with a pony fling about in its gigantic paw. He blinked. And once again when the bare erupted into green flames that a blue Changeling took its place and allowing the other stallion to fall into the mud of a tulip garden.

“Uh…” He blinked. “What just happened?”

The Changeling lowered herself down onto the front steps of his house. “A-Are you…” She struggled to say. “D-Dawn?”

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow.

“As in… Dawn Lemon?”

“That’s right.” He tilted his head. “Who are you? What do you want at this time of night?”

At first, Ocellus was at loss for words. But luckily, she was reminded when Pull was getting himself out of the mud. “I uh… I brought you somepony.” She said. “That has something important to say.”

Dawn was confused at first as his attention was turned to the other pony. Turning on a porch light, he tried to get a good look at the stranger covered in mud. He blinked. “Is that…? Pull?”

“Hey, Dawn.” Pull said flatly.

There was silence between them.

“What in blazes happened to you?”

“I turned into an alicorn.” Pull deadpanned. “No, I was minding my own business when this nutcase,” he pointed at Ocellus, “somehow found out that we were in a band, turned into a bear, dragged me all the way here so we could talk or some rubbish.” Ocellus coughed loudly; he rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine!” He got up, look at Dawn in the eye and said, “Dawn… I…”

He hesitated, for a long moment, Pull was silent while his old friend waited.

“What?” Dawn asked. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s almost two in the morning and I’d preferred to go to bed. Unless you have something worth saying, I’d prefer you to leave.” The mud-covered stallion stayed silent. “That’s what I thought.” Before Ocellus could do anything, before Dawn could retreat into his house to lock up his door and go to bed, he froze when he heard a phrase from Pull.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a pause between them.

“What did you say?” Dawn inquired.

Getting out of the mud, Pull walked onto his doorstep. “Dawn… I don’t expect you to forgive me. After what I said to you blokes… I probably wouldn’t be so quick to forgive either. But at the same time, what I said was unfair, to you especially. Now I’m not asking you to be friends again, I’m not asking for you to forgive and forget what I said. I suppose I’ve been given this chance to at least say that I’m sorry.”

Dawn adjusted his glasses. “You’re… you’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “The thing is… I still remember how good friends we were. And I still remember how… sour of a note we left things off. Of course, we were stressed, and things had gone bad, but now with time to cool down… I had no excuse for saying those things. It wasn’t fair to you or the others. You can still hate me all you want after tonight, but at least let me try to say I’m sorry.”

Hearing this put Dawn in disbelief. “Hate you? Pull, what gave you that idea?”

“I thought that after what I said-”

“I was hurt.” He told him. “Believe me, we all were. I especially, when you told to my face that I had no talent.”

Pull’s guilty ears folded flatly against his skull.

“To be honest,” he said further, “I didn’t think that years later you’d come to my front door in the middle of the night to say you’re sorry. I mean…” Dawn shook his head. “Fifty years, Pull! I haven’t heard a word from you in fifty years! I thought you’d never changed and yet… Why now? What changed?”

Pull pointed to Ocellus. “She did.”

“Oh, right…” Dawn coughed, “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Ocellus, sir.” She replied. “If it’s not too much to ask, may we come in for a minute?”

The old stallion sighed. “Fine… Pull, there’s a bathroom down the hall to the left. You miss, come to the kitchen so I could fix some tea.”

Ocellus followed them into the house where Pull went to the bathroom to clean himself up. As she followed Dawn into a small kitchen, she couldn’t help but notice the paintings and art supplies lying about. Then, walking into the kitchen and respectively sitting down at a dining table while the stallion picked up a kettle, she saw an old picture of the band – smiling.

“You know,” Dawn said, filling up the kettle. “Out of all the things that I’d expect of moving to this town, I didn’t think I would run into him again. Or apologizing, no less.”

She didn’t reply.

“But he said you knew we were in a band, is that right?” She nodded. “Maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve seen a Changeling up close but, if you don’t mind of me askin’, how old are you?”

“I’ll be turning fifteen soon, sir.”

He waved a hoof. “Don’t call me sir, makes me older than I’m already am.” He said, putting the kettle on the stove and turning on the heat. “But how did you know we were in a band? That was years and years ago.”

“It’s… pretty complicated. But let’s just say that I have a… unique memory.”

“Oh?”

“As in… from another universe kind of memory.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know it’s crazy, but it’s the honest truth. If anything… I was hoping that I would get both you’re and Pull’s help.”

“In what?” He asked, getting out a few mugs and teabags. “If you’re expecting us to get the band back together, I don’t think that’s-”

“I’m not asking that. If anything, I was hoping that maybe you guys could help me bring back what was lost.”

Dawn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

Ocellus sighed. “I only remember bits and pieces of songs. Masterpieces that each day I’m slowly forgetting. And the worst part is, there’s no one I could turn to help me except, maybe you guys. There are songs that are important, songs that are timeless, but these are songs that aren’t mine. All I’m asking is to help me piece these songs back together before they’re lost.”

Dawn shook his head. “Filly… You’re asking us to do something we’ve forgotten how to do.” He sat the mugs down. “I haven’t picked up a guitar in years. I’ve been so focused on being an artist that I have forgotten how to be a musician. And even if we could, what makes you think we’d be of any help?”

“Because you started out…” Ocellus said but trailed off.

The old stallion adjusted his glasses. “What?”

“I uh… remember how I said that I have a unique memory? Well, I recalled reading somewhere that with the band you and Pull started, you didn’t know what you were doing either.”

Dawn paused. “Yes… Yes, that’s right. And?”

“Well… You guys just learned as you go. I figured that maybe if I could help you learn how to play again, maybe you could help me in remembering how the songs go.”

“Songs like what?”

“Well… I do know one song that’s supposed to be yours. Only, I can remember half of it.”

“Really? What’s it called?”

“Imagine.” She answered. “It was one of the last songs you wrote before you…” Ocellus stopped; icy dread knifed her in the chest before she could finish her sentence.

“Before I what?” Dawn questioned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ocellus quickly shook her head. “Do you want me to sing what I know?”

He told her to go ahead while he prepared the tea. Gulping, she closed her eyes and began to sing. As nervous as her voice was shaky, she bid the very artist who made it, to imagine no afterlife, where all creatures live for the moment, that there are no countries worth dying for in wars, but instead to live peacefully. However, she only got so far with her memory with the short chorus: “Ugh, I can’t remember the rest.” She told him. “I know there’s more, but I can’t remember how it-”

“A dreamer.” Ocellus quickly opened her eyes at Dawn, with a sober, solemn expression. “If I could write something like that, I would say that I’m a dreamer. I guess it would only make sense that all my life, I’ve been doing just that. Dreaming for a better world that might never come.”

“To be fair,” the two of them suddenly looked over to a somewhat cleaner Pull who walked in. “That does sound like something you would have made back in the day.” Pulling up a seat next to Ocellus, he asked his friend, “So Dawn… How have you been getting on?”

He yawned. “I’ve lived happily.”

“Oh… and how successful are you?”

“I just said I was happy.” Dawn told him, “I figured that counts as successful. Having a profession that I love to do.”

“You’re an artist?” Ocellus asked, looking back that he paintings in the other room.

“Well, going back to art school helped a little,” he said, “especially after the band broke up. I drifted here and there, trying to find myself. Did paints here, gone to protests there, fell in and out of love with all its complications. But in the end… I found peace. A quiet life to sit down to and pick up a brush. What about you?”

“A sales pony,” he told him, “I’ve gotten married, had a few kids, and doing what I can just to get by.”

“Oh… I see…” Soon enough, the water in the kettle started to steam, and Dawn began to serve the tea to each of them.

For a while, they sat in silence, sipping the hot beverage before Pull spoke up. “So… Ocellus, what exactly do you want us to do? Since we haven’t picked up a guitar in decades and all.”

“Maybe… Maybe I can have my music teacher well… teach you both again. And from there, help me piece together these songs I remember.”

“Songs we’ve never heard of before?” Dawn questioned.

Ocellus shook her head. “No, songs that, as I recalled, you and Pull wrote together. Lyrics and everything. I can only remember bits and pieces. Maybe… Somehow, we could not only bring them back but who knows… make them… better?”

“Suppose we could,” Pull asked, “let’s pretend that we, old geezers who never had a music lesson in our lives, could do just that. Suppose that we could write songs out of those bits and pieces. What’s in it for us? We still have families to support, lives to live, and jobs to go to. Even if we could, why do it?”

“He’s got a point,” Dawn said, sipping his cup. “For me, as much as I love being an artist, even I still have to struggle just to get by too.”

Ocellus sighed into her hooves and thought it over for a moment until she got an idea. “Okay, give me your hooves.” Confused, they did so, and the young Changeling took them into her own. Looking them in the eye she said. “On my honor, my parents, my friends, and my King, I hereby swear to both of you, as well as to Mango and Forge’s son, that when I sing these songs and earn any money because if it, that every bit I earned will be shared to the four of you. I swear that I will not be owned a single bit of money for any future concerts, performances, or anything else that is tied to any of you. And I swear further, that whenever I play your songs, I will give credit where credit is due and say that they are only covers of your songs.”

The old Beatles looked at one another before returning to Ocellus. “You’re being serious now?” Pull asked and she nodded. “I mean, you said you’re a student, aren’t you? That isn’t something that comes chea-”

“I can take care of myself.” She told him. “When I said that I want to do everything in my power to bring the music of The Beatles back, I meant it. But I can’t do this without both of your help. You can have the money, you can have the fame, all I ask is for your help. So please… help me.”

“I think she serious,” Dawn said with a yawn. “But is it possible to do this tomorrow? I still need to sleep.”

Ocellus’s ears perked up. “You mean… you’ll actually help?”

“Don’t get me wrong, young lady, I still think this is all daft.” Dawn shrugged. “However, I can see clearly that you believe in us. It wouldn’t be hurt to at least give you a chance.”

Pull nodded. “I only promise to try. But I still have work to do here in Ponyville for a while.”

“Oh, thank you!” She said, flying up and hugging them both. “Thank you so much!”

“All good,” Dawn said. “But I think it’s about time you start heading to bed yourself. There are still a few things I want to talk to Pull about.”

“Oh absolutely!” She beamed. “So, when tomorrow do you want us to meet up again?”

“Probably noon,” Pull replied.

Ocellus quickly agreed and bid them goodnight. Leaving the old friends some time to talk things over.

Chapter 7 - Love Song by the Pond

At first when Ocellus introduced Pull and Dawn to Octavia, her music teacher thought that it was rather odd that she was being asked to teach these ancient ponies to play the guitar. If anything, the teacher was suspicious of her student’s claim that these two can create some of the greatest’s songs in history. However, despite their age, having to reteach them the basics wasn’t too difficult. At one point, while they did struggle, Dawn commented that it was like “Learning how to ride a bicycle again.”

In between teaching the stallions the scales and arpeggios in different key signatures, Ocellus noticed that once they learned them, they start to improvise on them in which, she insisted that they should be recorded. They were experimenting with rhythm and melody that at first was abstract. However, as days went by, they were starting to form bits and pieces of the songs the Changeling recognized.

About five days since they started, and during one of these improve moments, Dawn mused over an E Major scale that he plucked out seven familiar notes that he played over and over.

Ocellus’s ears perked up. “Wait a minute… I think I know that… Can you play that again?” Dawn did, and she sang out the last few notes. “That’s ‘All My Loving!’”

“Well I’m glad you know it,” he said, “Because I can’t figure out how to finish it.”

“Let me try,” Pull said, taking a closer look at Dawn’s playing before he improvised himself. While he played, it helped jog the Changeling’s memory of the melody. Although bits and pieces of the lyrics were on the tip of her tongue, Dawn helped piece together the poem that went with it. Amazingly to her through their improvisation, they were able to recreate the song in about half-an-hour.

Slowly, Ocellus, Dawn and Pull started to piece together some of the songs that the Changeling could remember. Starting with the love songs. Within a week and five days since they started, they pieced together the melodies and lyrics for: All My Loving, And I Love Her, Can’t Buy Me Love, Eight Days A Week, You Like Me Too Much, Yesterday, Manechelle, Girl, In My Life, Love You To, Martha My Dear, I Will, and Oh! Darling. From there, Ocellus turned to Octavia to help pen the notes and lyrics down on paper out of the recordings so that they would be in print.

At one point after their group lesson after Dawn and Pull left, her teacher inquired her student: “Are you planning on playing all of these?”

Ocellus nodded, “Eventually, yes. But right now, I’m just hoping to get as much of these songs preserved as possible.”

“You do have to remember that you still have to play in that recital coming up.” She told her. “If you’re still doing that Yesterday song, I hope that you got it all memorized for Saturday.”

“That reminds me, did you-”

“Yes, it’s all written down. Although, given how hard you’ve been working, I think that I might give you a surprise.”

Ocellus tilted her head. “What does that mean?”

“Now I admit, when you brought those Gentlecolts in, I was skeptical at first. However… I can see that with every passing day, they have something in them. A gift of sorts. In fact, when I was transcribing the song Yesterday down, I realized that this simple song is much more… richer than I anticipated. And it’s not just that, but a few others so far. So, giving how hard working you three are, I figured that I might do something special for the recital. Before you go, I was hoping I could ask a favor from you.”

“That being?”

“Would it be of any bother to you if I moved your performance to the very last?” She asked. “I have a feeling that this would fit better as a final piece.”

Ocellus nodded. “Sure thing. And don’t worry, I have the song memorized. If anything, I’m looking forward to it!” She smiled.

After she bid her goodbye, Ocellus trotted up over to Dawn and Pull up ahead. “Hey! Wait!” She called out to them. “My recital is coming up this Saturday and I’m going to play Yesterday, do you wanna come?”

“Oh…” Pull scratched the back of his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. You see, I’m expected to head home on Saturday so I think it would be unlikely for me to come to see it.”

“And I’m going to introduce my latest work in a gallery that day too,” Dawn said, scratching his beard. “Of course… If I’m lucky, I think I could slip away for a minute to at least have a listen. But I’m afraid there are no guarantees in that.”

Ocellus’s ears folded back as she turned to Pull, “But… aren’t you coming back? There’s still so much work that needs to be done.”

“I said that I would try to help as much as I can,” he told her, “I didn’t agree to work for you. I mean… I still don’t see any point in sticking around to see our songs go nowhere.”

“But it won’t this time. Everyone is going to lo-”

“How would you know it’ll be different?” Pull questioned. “When we first did this back in the day, we hardly got noticed by anyone. We wasted years in trying to get somewhere, so what makes you think we’d get those songs off the ground?”

“The first step is to get noticed first, that’s what this recital aims to archive is to spread the word that you two have written these incredible songs.”

Pull shook his head. “Even so, I still have a job to do. Maybe… I’d come back one of these days, but right now, I need to get to work.” After he bid them goodbye, he trotted off.

“I’d come,” Dawn said to her. “Of course, it might be a tight spot for me to get out of, but maybe I could try to step out to get to hear your song and back again.”

“Thank you, Dawn,” Ocellus said.

“But if for some reason I can’t be there, at least you know why.”

The young Changeling thanked him again before they said their farewells and parted.

“…. And I think that should cover everything.” Ocellus said, looking up from her Algebra book. There was a collective sigh of relief from her friends now that their time for the study group was mercifully finished.

“Finally,” Gallus sighed, “now we got that out of the way, how about we do something fun? Anycreature got any ideas?”

“I vote we go swimming,” Silverstream said, raising a claw. “I haven’t been to the pond in a while.”

“Eh,” Smolder shrugged, “I got nothing better to do.”

“Maybe Ocellus bring guitar,” Yona suggested.

The Changeling tilted her head. “For what?”

“To play, of course.” She said. “Did Changeling learn new song?”

“Actually… I’ve been working on a few.”

“Yeah?” Sandbar asked. “Is that what you’ve been doing the last few weeks?”

She swayed in thought. “You know what? I’ll tell you all later. For now, I wouldn’t mind cooling off somewhere.”

So, after exiting the library, putting their books and papers away, the six friends walked out of the school and towards a nearby pond. Despite not all of them know how to swim, they chose this particular spot as it was a place where all of them could stand in and still have their necks and heads be above the waterline. Yona the Yak was the first to belly flop into the shallow clear water, sending tidal waves that enormous ripples around the small shores of the pond. Ocellus put her guitar down by a tree and the rest of the friends followed after. Silverstream and Ocellus temporarily transformed into sea ponies, easily circling their friends and splashing them every so often.

Eventually, they flopped on shore to dry off in the sun. It was here that Sandbar turned over to Ocellus, “So, how about those songs?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, the songs you’ve been working on for the past few weeks. You said you were going to talk about it.”

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” She sat up. “Well, at least there’s some good news. Do you guys remember that old stallion that wanted to talk to me right after the dance?”

“What was that about?” Gallus inquired. “You were gone for pretty much the rest of the night. Where did you go anyway?”

“Well, as it turns out, that was Pull McCart, one of the ponies that wrote the songs I’ve been playing.”

“Really?” Silverstream asked. “What did he say?”

“Well, to make a long story short, he was surprised that I was singing his songs because they didn’t do well when he sang them years ago. But after we talked about it, we eventually found out that the other songwriter lives right here in Ponyville. Dawn Lemon. And I was able to convince them both to help me piece together some of their songs with my music teacher transcribing their songs on paper.”

“Yeah?” Smolder raised an eyebrow. “And how many songs have you been able to come up with?”

“Well… Including the one that I’m going to sing at my recital… Thirteen so far.” All of her friend’s heads snapped their attention towards her, wide eyes. “What?”

“Thirteen!” Sandbar rolled over onto his belly in the sand. “That’s enough to fill an album.”

“Why so many?” Yona asked.

Ocellus shrugged. “I guess coming together, we’re able to piece together some great stuff.”

Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Play us one.”

“Huh?”

“Right now, play us a song that you’ve been working on with some old guys. I wanna hear what you’ve been up to.”

Her other friends agreed.

“Well… okay,” Ocellus went up over to fetch her guitar underneath the tree. “Let’s see…” She sat down near them on the sand, pondering for a moment. “How about this one? It’s called, All My Loving.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQvuNkMANHA

At first, she plucked a few ascending notes in a slow, but moderate pace. Tranquil in sound, like the pond next to them. Then she began to sing. It was a farewell song to her special someone, to bid for them a last kiss because tomorrow she will missing them. To reassure them that she’ll write home every day while away to send all her love.

While her friends listened to this simply haunting song, it captivated them in the tune as time went on, their friend did pick up the pace a little while added more cords to make the sound richer, almost symphonic in tone. There was a liveliness to the song that sounded something very modern and yet, somehow old at the same time. As they listened, it was as if there was love in it in every single note. One that wasn’t faking it, but for them, this love song sounded genuine. As if she was pouring her heart into her guitar and her voice.

And yet, it was short. It was as if as soon as she started, it was over.

“That was so pretty!” Silverstream said.

“No Yak song,” Yona commented, shrugging, “But nice.”

“Honestly,” Sandbar said, “I’d rather listen to something like that then whatever pop song there is on the radio now.”

“So,” Ocellus smiled, “I take it you all liked it?”

“I have to agree with Sandbar on this one.” Smolder said, “Compared to something like Sapphire Shores, or Coloratura, or even Songbird has on the radio on loop, that song there, is breath of fresh air.”

“It’s… good.” Gallus said. “Maybe not the absolute best song I’ve ever heard you sing, but it’s fine by me. Still, I kinda preferred that one song you did when you were at the hospital.”

“You mean Yesterday?” Ocellus asked.

“That’s the one.” He nodded. “There’s just… something about it that’s captivating.”

“Maybe you guys should come to my recital on Saturday,” she suggested. “I’m actually going to be playing Yesterday there. You guys wanna come?”

“Oh! Oh!” Silverstream flew in the air, “I have an idea, why not we tell the school that so they could come too!”

Ocellus blinked, “The school?”

“I mean, why not?” Sandbar asked. “You were a hit at the school dance, and if they hear that you’re going to be playing a new song – I’d be shocked if no one came.”

“Maybe…” Smolder rubbed her chin. “Maybe we could try to organize a concert for you. After all, if you already have been making thirteen new songs, as well as those songs you did at the dance, that should be more than enough for at least one concert. Maybe we can start selling tickets and stuff like that.”

“Yeah!” Gallus snapped his talons. “I can probably make some posters out there for the school, or maybe the whole town!” He wrapped an arm around his friend. “I can see it now, ‘Friday Night at the School of Friendship’s Theater, The Newest Musical Sensation – The Beagle!”

“Beatle,” Ocellus corrected him.

“The Beatle!” He grinned, “If your songs are as good as what we’ve heard, I think we can be able to make a fortune before we graduate!”

“Guys! What a minute,” Ocellus stepped back. “Look… before I say anything… I do appreciate what you’re doing here that, yes, I do want these songs to be as widely known as possible. However… if we’re seriously going to do this, then there are two things that I need you guys to promise me.”

“Sure thing,” Sandbar said, “What is it?”

“First, and most importantly, if you’re going to make posters and such, then you have to make it clear to everyone that the songs I’m going to be singing, that they’re not mine. I didn’t write them. They’re from Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon.”

“So, say that you’re doing covers of songs?” Gallus asked and she nodded. He shrugged. “Fine by me, but what’s the other thing?”

“That I will not be making a single bit” – Gallus was about to interrupt by she finished – “instead, whatever we do make, a good chunk will have to go the creators of the songs, as well as to two other surviving band members whose songs I’m singing for them. This is something I promised them, and if you can’t uphold that promise, we’re not doing this.”

“Why?” Yona questioned. “Ocellus should have fair share too.”

The Changeling put her guitar down and walked up to her. “Yona, do you know why I’m doing this in the first place?” Yona blinked but didn’t reply. “I’m doing this because just trying to sing these songs to as many creatures out there as possible so that they won’t be forgotten. These songs, I believe, have the power to change things the better. Maybe not in a huge way, but I think they’re important. So much so, that money has nothing to do with it. Preserving this stuff has more value to me than platinum.”

“Still…” Smolder scratched the back of her head. “It just doesn’t sound fair for you.”

“I don’t need money; I can take care of myself guys.” She said, “So, change of subject, does anyone want to hear another song?”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Gallus commented.

“Huh?” Smolder turned to him. At this point of the day, the students were on their way back to their dorm rooms. The two of them were following the rest of them but were at a distance where they were out of earshot. “What is?”

“I know she keeps insisting that what she’s singing are covers,” he pointed out, “but did you notice something?”

The dragoness raised an eyebrow, “What are you talking about?”

“They were all love songs.”

“So what? Nearly every song out there is about love.”

“Yeah, but did you noticed that in all of them, she is singing her heart out to a female? I mean, typically, most songs where girls sing them tend to be focused more on males? Are we starting to connect the dots here?”

“What? Are you saying that…?” She looked between him and the Changeling up ahead. “She’s a lesbian or something?”

“Hey, I’m not saying that she is,” he shrugged, “I just find it interesting is all.”

“And why would you care?”

“Well… think about it. Let’s suppose that she might swing that way for a moment. Just remember that back at the pond, whenever she was singing those love sings, she sounds like she’s singing her heart out. Like she’s serenading or something.”

Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…? And?”

“Now here’s the million-bit question: Who is she singing it to?”

The dragoness was about to reply, but her mouth hangs open for a moment, closing, and blinked. “But… that can’t be. She’s doesn’t have a crush on one of us… right?”

“But what if she was, who would it be?” Gallus asked. “It’s certainly wouldn’t be me or Sandbar. So that narrows down to Yona, Silverstream, and you.”

Smolder shook her head. “I don’t think Yona would count as she’s pretty much dating Sandbar. And I doubt it would be Silverstream either.”

Gallus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And why not?”

She waved a claw, “Let’s just say that I happen to know that Silverstream isn’t into girls. So that only leaves…” Her eyes widen.

Her friend smiled smugly while Smolder stopped, looking over to Ocellus walking away.

“Is there something you wanna share with the class?” Gallus inquired.

The dragoness shook her head. “C’mon? Me? That’s just ridiculous!”

“Is it? Is it really?” Gallus smirked. “If Ocellus is singing love songs where who she’s singing to is a lady; logically, out of all of us, it most likely would be you.”

“Now hold on a second, just because we’re good friends, and we study together, and we tell each other’s secrets, and we trust each other, and we study together, and have our rooms right next door it doesn’t mean she’s…” Her eyes widened. “Oh Goddesses…”

“Hey, I’m not saying that she is,” Gallus said, walking past her, “just… food for thought.”

Chapter 8 - The Recital

“So have you heard?” Gallus asked.

It was during lunch break when he said these words to a group of ponies who sat by a table. One of them looked up. “About what?”

“You know about Ocellus?” The griffon asked slyly, placing his tray on the table. “Ya know, the one that played at the school dance not too long ago?”

“Oh yeah!” One of the teenage fillies said. “The Beatle? Of course, we know her.”

“By that tone, I take it you liked the songs she sang?”

“Well duh,” another teen said, rolling his eyes, “they were a lot of fun. Why?”

“Right, I’ll get to the point,” Gallus rubbed his claws together. “Did you know that she’s going to be playing a new song?” This caught everypony at that table’s attention. “It’s true.” He continued. “She’s going to be playing at a recital at Octavia’s place at one on Saturday. And from what I’ve heard, it might be the best one yet.”

“Okay, so why should we care?” One of the teens questioned. “She can play great, so what’s in it for us?”

“Well, I’d figure that it would be a great motivator,” Gallus replied, “that the more show up to hear her play, the more she would want to. And the more she would want to, the more likely she would be persuaded in doing a concert.”

“She’s gonna do a concert?”

“If, that is, she is given enough reason to. She’s been working on a dozen more songs as we speak. However, I don’t think she’ll be able to play those new songs unless this one goes well, as well as a demand from the whole school. And who knows? Perhaps the rest of the town would like to hear her play too?” He ended with a smug smile.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to at least go see.” One of the teens commented. “If it’s played by The Beatle, then I think we should tell our friends about it?” The others agreed.

“Yes,” Gallus said, “do spread the word.”

‘Well this is certainly a no show.’ Dawn Lemon thought.

Except for one pony who came into the gallery to ask where the bathroom was, there wasn’t anyone that came to the opening of his latest exhibition. His paintings hung up on the walls with no one to look at them. All the while, the speakers overhead played the soundtrack of Horseshoepin’s nocturnes on loop, Dawn counting that this was the fifth time it had started over again. Despite waiting for someone to come in to at least give his latest creations a look, it was depressing in a way that almost no one has shown up.

‘I might as well not have bothered to put up a show in the first place.’

Dawn paced around the gallery, his mind questioning what exactly had gone wrong. He posted flyers that he was hosting an exhibition. He sent invitations, even told a few ponies of what he was doing. Yet, no one came. He stopped at the door and looked outside. He noticed on the clock tower that it was almost one in the afternoon.

‘There’s no one to stop you from going to that recital, you know?’ he told himself. ‘After all, you’d help the Changeling making up songs with Pull. And you did piece together some cracking tunes with her. It would seem heartless to not at least go over there and say hello.’

Another thought came to him when he glanced over at the empty gallery. ‘But I leave now, would there be anyone that would be coming in? For I know, maybe they’re running late and if they find that nopony is here… Then again, you have been waiting here for hours now. Something tells me that it’s unlikely that anyone else would come, even if I stepped out.’

He paused.

“You know what?” he said aloud to himself. “Sod this, I’m going to the recital.”

‘At least the girl would have an audience that she invited.’ He thought as he trotted out the door and headed towards Octavia’s home.

‘Please be there. Please be there. Please be there.’ Pull McCart was galloping through the streets towards the microscopic station at the edge of town. Due to waking up much later than expected, the old stallion was going as fast as he could in hopes that he wouldn’t miss the train back home. By the time he got there, however, he found the station was empty. So, out of breath, he went up to the ticket booth to the stallion who was reading a newspaper behind the glass.

“Pardon… me…” Pull managed to say, “When is… Train… to Balti…mare?”

The stallion in the ticket booth looked up. “I got word through the wire that it’s running late. If anything, you’re early.”

“Good…” Pull said, taking in another breath. “When-”

“From what I can tell, it should be by three. So I think you got plenty of time.”

‘Fantastic,’ the old stallion thought, annoyed. “But what am I to do until then?”

He shrugged. “Go watch a movie, read a book, visit the market. It’s none of my concern.”

Pull huffed, taking a few steps away, taking a glance both ways of the iron track. His hunches sank to the floor. In his mind, this delay is going to play havoc on not only his schedule, but he knew that by the time the train did arrive, he’s going to get home very late in the evening. Most likely he’ll have a family to answer to for being so late.

‘Goddess… I can’t keep doing this.’ He thought to himself. ‘Sure, this job has always been stable but is this really worth it? Always constantly away from the family, the wife especially. Always going door, to door, to door only to get little results… What am I doing with me life?

‘I mean if you look at it… I don’t think I’ve done much of anything worth important. Am I making a difference to anyone? At all? If anything, with the exception of being here, there’s not much I could say to justify this job, isn’t there? At least I finally managed to meet up with Dawn again. At least I did have fun for once, making up those songs and that girl helping us…’

He glanced over at the clock. ‘It’s almost one. Maybe there’s still time to go over to that recital and see what comes about with our song… Although I doubt that it would do any good, but for that Ocellus… You at least owe her that, Pull. Just to be there. She believes that what you and Dawn did was worth something and…’

Getting up, he adjusted his tie and picked up his briefcase. He has time. And he has a recital to attend.

For Octavia, it wasn’t that recitals were ever a no-show. Quite the opposite. Given the number of her students, the seats are usually full of parents, family and the occasional friend. For the most part, recitals were a small affair in the back yard of her and her roommate’s house where there were some sacks and lemonade were provided. All the while, she would be at the piano trying to match the tempo and rhythm of her students playing.

This, she had expected.

It was also awkward but important for her students too, especially getting used to playing their instrument to a crowd. Although necessary, there were the expected incidents where her students would forget a note here or play a few wrong ones there. However, she has been proud of her students for continuing on regardless, that even with the most lifeless, boring, ear-piercing playing, it was always received with some small applause.

This too is expected.

What she did not except, however, was the sheer numbers for this particular recital. From what she and Ocellus could gather, word had gotten around at the School of Friendship that she was going to perform a brand-new song from The Beatle. Given how much the students have certainly enjoyed her playing at the school dance, a good chunk of them were curious as to what this new song was going to sound like. “Or maybe,” Ocellus said, “Gallus told them that I was going to perform my ‘magnum opus,’ whatever that means.”

Regardless of the reason, Octavia was quite surprised the by sheer numbers of this recital. There were so many, that it overflowed out from the backyard and surrounded the house. Many of them were bored to tears as they have arrived early to listen to one student after another play their pieces in such a dry, by the number’s way. However, when it came to Ocellus to take her turn, there was a lively mummer from the crowd.

“H-Hello everyone,” she began, clutching her guitar, “my name is Ocellus… or The Beatle if you may, and I’m going to play for you-”

“One moment, Ocellus,” Octavia stopped her, “I have a surprise for you before you start.” She got up from the piano, quickly went over to the back doors of the house, and one by one, there were more musicians carrying strings, a harp, a windchime, a cymbal, xylophone, and a few wind and brass instruments. An entire orchestra walked out and tried to find a spot in the crowded assembly. “Mares and Gentlecolts, this final piece will be performed with the aid of the Canterlot Philharmonic. I don’t normally ask for their help at a recital, but I think that this time I would have to make a special case for what you are about to hear.

“Now Ocellus, would you do your introduction again?”

She nodded, clearing her throat, she looked over at the waiting multitude, at her parents who took shade underneath a tree, her friends that were eager to hear the song again in its full glory, the students that came out here just to see her, and– she froze. Ocellus didn’t notice at first, but by a pair of bushes, she spotted Dawn Lemon, waiting. As well as Pull McCart who quietly said, “Pardon me,” when he cut through the crowd over to where Dawn was.

“Ocellus?” Octavia asked, snapping her back into reality.

“Oh! Right,” she cleared her throat to the chuckles of the crowd. “My name is Ocellus, also known as The Beatle to some of you, and I’ll be playing for you the song called Yesterday, composed by Dawn Lemon and Pull McCart… who just so happens to be here right now.”

There was a mummer from all of them before she added:

“To you guys, for helping me with these songs, I want to simply say thank you for giving me the chance to work with you two.”

Looking down at her guitar, she began plucking a few chords in a tempo similar to a waltz, but as she began, the orchestra behind her started too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7GSCZhnDQE

The string started as a light, misty sound, something mysterious among her waltzing tempo. The harp and the piano joined in too with the rhythm along with a windchime. Then from her piano, Octavia cued her in to start singing. From there, Ocellus looked over to the crowd, her eyes going around to her parents, her friends, and then over to the creators of what she was singing.

As packed as that backyard was, everyone within earshot was underneath that spell that the Changeling was casting. It was melancholic but not sad. Simple in melody but made richly complex by the strings of the orchestra. To their ears, it was filled with a heartbreaking longing and yet, it was fulfillable. Tragic in its lyrics, but it never once sad. If anything, this short song was as if it was catharsis incarnate. Almost like the feeling after one was given enough time and room from a good cry.

For Ocellus, while she did look between those that she valued, her attention was still on McCart and Lemon with their reaction. She saw them look around at the crowd and saw in them, enjoyment. Nopony was getting up to leave. Nopony was bored. They were listening. For both ancient stallions, that for once in their lives, their music was being heard. It was being paid reverence from the crowd to be listening to something sacred. Something that they made. Pull covered his mouth in disbelief, while Dawn was trying (and failing) not to cry.

Meanwhile, the Changeling was blindsided over the fact while she was singing, Smolder was blushing while Gallus was smirking at her. She frowned. “Stop it.” She whispered during the song’s climax. “I don’t think she’s singing about me. She just said she didn’t write it.”

“No?” Gallus questioned. “Kinda funny that she still lends a helping hoof in making it though. You gotta admit, if this isn’t a big enough display of love and affection for you, I don’t know what is.”

“I don’t think this is a love song, sounds a little too heartbroken for that.”

“True,” Gallus whispered back, “you didn’t break hers, did you?”

While Smolder stared daggers at him, as much as she hates to even think about… Did he have a point? For the dragoness, the idea that maybe her friend secretly likes her is still unlikely but… then again, she doesn’t know that for sure. As far as any of them know about Ocellus, she never has gone on a date, never mentioned who she found cute, or even spoken about finding a special someone. So how influenced by Ocellus the songs she was singing were? And is she singing what she’s thinking and feeling about?

Ocellus finished her song with the quiet, elegant and grace that the song deserved as her guitar and her teacher’s piano lead it to the end of it. This was followed by loud cheering applause, especially coming from the students in the area. Even a chant started up from them with the cry of “Beatle! Beatle! Beatle!” Before Ocellus could do anything, she was pulled aside from her music teacher and taken inside the cottage.

“There’s somepony I’d like you to meet.” She said.

Through the doors among the black cases of the orchestra was a stallion that Ocellus has never seen before. A white unicorn in a suit, a monocle, and a smile. “So, you’re The Beatle that she’s talking about.” He began, offering his hoof for her to shake.

Ocellus took it. “And who are you?”

“Fancy Pants.” He told her. “I’m a patron for your music teacher, you see. In particular, for the Canterlot Philharmonic. I must say, that song of yours was brilliant.”

“Oh, thank you, sir. But it’s not mine.”

This made him raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Then who’s song did you sing?”

“The composers are here actually; do you want to meet them?”

Fancy said he wouldn’t mind. Ocellus went back outside and came back in a minute later with the old stallions. “Sir, I’d like you to meet Dawn Lemon and Pull McCart.”

“A pleasure.” He shook their hooves. “If anything, this is really good that I’m able to meet all of you today. You three may not know it, but you’ve helped solve a problem that I currently have.”

“What’s that?” Pull inquired.

“Well you see, recently a radio station has gone out of business, so I bought it. However, up until now, I haven’t decided as to what sort of music it will be playing over the air. It wasn’t until Octavia who convinced me to lend the orchestra over to her and to listen to the works of a new song. I confess I was rather skeptical at first, borrowing the philharmonic for one song at a recital. However, given how high of a quality that song it was, I see an opportunity.”

“Afraid we don’t know where you’re going with this,” Dawn said.

“Well, I’ve decided that I want to put up music that is neither pop nor classical, but something in between yet, avant-garde enough to be its own thing. Something experimental, but fun. Something old, but new. Something that anyone can listen to where it would be popular for the masses but sophisticated enough that the elite wouldn’t be ashamed for liking. Fortunately, I have found the very music I was looking for.”

“You mean,” Ocellus asked, “you want to put Yesterday on the radio?”

“As a start,” Fancy nodded. “Tell me, do any of you have any more songs?”

Pull said that they have some, that although they’re written down, none of them are properly recorded.

“In that case,” Fancy told them, “I advise you to do so. In fact, if you can record that song I’ve heard, I want to buy the rights for it. And maybe, get you all to sign a contract as well if any of you are interested.”

“Contract?” Dawn blinked.

“But hold on.” Pull interjected. “None of us are professional musicians. I mean we still have jobs outside of this.”

“Maybe I can take care of that,” Fancy said, his horn glowing and taking out a checkbook and a pen. “Just from what I’ve heard, and since I am the first to do this in regards to your composition…” He wrote in an amount, tore the check out from the book and levitated it over to Ocellus, “This is how much I think that song is worth.”

Ocellus gasped.

Pull and Dawn leaned their heads over to see what she was looking at. Their eyes widened. Pull grabbed the check, his jaw dropped.

“Blimey,” Dawn gave a low whistle.

“Is that the right number of zeros?” Pull asked.

Ocellus counted and told him that it was.

“And that’s only the start,” Fancy told them. “If you count for royalties and such. Of course, there’s still of the matter of a contract to be drawn up and the music to be recorded. But I think I could lend a helping hoof on my end. Now I don’t know if there’s any sort of difficulties between the three of you, but I do hope we would come together for some sort of deal.”

“Fifty million…” Pull muttered, looking over to Dawn, “Even with us getting an equal share, that’s more than enough for all kinds of things.”

“Well obviously. A share for you, me, Mango, Forge’s son, and Ocellus.” He patted her on the shoulder. “She should get a share too.”

“So that leaves ten million each.”

Ocellus stepped away. “Hold on, I said I don’t want the mo-”

“You can use that money for tours and things.” Pull pointed out. “Think about it, even with ten million, there’s much you can do with it. Rent theaters, hire musicians, get new instruments. Whatever you need. Maybe it doesn’t have to go to you, but maybe you can use it for shows and such.”

“He’s right,” Dawn nodded. “And that’s more than enough to get the other songs recorded and such. Not to mention set up for concerts and such. And all of this from one song! If we can do the rest, why, we’d be set for life.”

“So…?” Fancy inquired. “Is that a yes?”

“More than a yes,” Pull said, walking towards the front door. “Where’s the nearest telegraph building?”

“It’s near the Town Hall.” Ocellus told him. “Why?”

“I’m going to go over there, and wire first to the family that I have a new job. And a second to my boss to say something I wanted to say for a long time.”

“What’s that?”

He stopped at the front door, looked back over to them and smiled. “I quit!”

Chapter 9 - Secret Tea Party

“That was beautiful, sweetling,” Ocellus’s mother said, hugging her. “Simply wonderful!”

“Thank you, mom.” Ocellus replied. The family was together in the dorm room of their daughter after they had to squeeze through the crowd of students wanting something from her, a photo or a signature from the young Changeling. Now that they were alone, they have room to relax a little.

“Whoever knew that you’d become so popular here.” Her father said. “Especially over a song.”

“Oh! It’s not just a song dad,” she told him, “not too long ago, I’ve learned enough songs to sing at a school dance and, well… it looked like my reputation is growing.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “So, who were those two old stallions you dragged into your teacher’s house?”

“They’re the songwriters who came up with Yesterday, along with the stuff I sang at the dance. Recently, the patron of my music teacher was here and made a deal with us to have our music being played on his radio station.”

“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!” Her mother said.

“Yeah! And he’s willing to pay to buy the rights to the song I just sang to be played first. But we still need to record the other songs first though before we sign any contract.”

“Contract?” The father tilted his head. “Now Ocellus, you’re still a student.”

“I know.” She nodded. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to neglect what I have to do at school. But I figured that during my free time that I can help out with writing the songs, singing, and performing too. Besides, once we do that, I’d be getting a share in which I’m going to put into any future concerts and such.”

“You mean you’re going to be paid?” Her mother asked. “Well, I suppose that’s fair, how much?”

“Ten-million.” Her parents’ jaws slammed on the floor. “As a start.”

“Ten-mill…” The father struggled to put into words in his shock.

“But I’m not going to use it for myself.” She added. “I made a promise that I’ll only use the money towards the music we’re making. Such as instruments and renting out places to perform.”

“Still, sweetie,” the mother runs a hoof over her head. “I’m just… surprised is all. Ten-million Equestrian bits for all those songs you’ll-”

“Oh no, it was just for that song I sang.”

“For one song!? Holy crap Ocellus, if that’s just the start, you’d probably be the wealthiest Changeling in history if this keeps up.”

“Except, I promised that I wouldn’t make a bit off of it.” She told them. “I’m not unaware of how much I’m getting, but I’m not foolish enough to spend it all in one go. If anything, I’m going to get some help to manage all of this, so it’ll go to things like recording equipment and such.”

Her parents looked at one another. “Okay,” her father nodded. “If you know what you’re doing. And that you make enough time for your schooling, this is still important, you know.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Still,” her mother said, “there is something that I have been wondering about.”

“What’s that?”

“You introduced yourself as The Beetle. Why?” She raised an eyebrow. “We have enough time as it is to let creatures know that we’re not exactly bugs.”

“Well…” Ocellus licked her dry lips. “It’s only a name, mom.”

“I know that. Some bands and music stars have weird names that make them stand out but… why that name? Beetle. Why would you name yourself after something that even we look down on? A beetle is a pest and yet, here you are giving yourself a name after something we wouldn’t hesitate to squish?”

“Because…” Ocellus hesitated. As much as her mother did, in fact, have a point, that very name to Changelings would raise suspicions for the absurdity that she’s given others to identify her by, an idea came to mind. “Maybe it’s well suited.”

“Ocellus…” Her father was about to say in a concerned tone, sitting next to her. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like-” he was quickly interrupted.

“I want to use that name as a force for good.” She replied. “To turn it around from something that a few of us would see as derogatory and change it as into something inspiring. Like an underdog sort of way. I could use the songs that I sing to change the idea of a beetle as a pest and turn it into a badge of honor. A force for creativity and imagination. Which is, in a sense, is what I’m set out to do.”

“That is if this does work out.” Her mother pointed out. “Unless you somehow make this music thing work, there would be those that would either use that as an insult to you, or others that would take offense that you’re calling yourself that as a serious musician.”

“But I think that it will work out.” She replied. “As long as I have the right creatures to help me, it’s going to be okay.”

“And who is going to help you out?” The father questioned.

“Well, I was thinking of Headmare Twilight, along with my friends and my music teacher. As long as I have them, I can get by with my friends.” ‘Oh that’s right,’ she thought, ‘that’s another song of theirs, isn’t there?’

“If you say so,” her mother said, “just make sure you’re careful is all. Especially to the fans out there. I think they would have some high expectations.

“Still…” Smolder said after sipping her tea. “A check for ten million is huge.”

“But I’m still keeping to my promise that the money won’t go to me.” Ocellus said. “I’ve opened a bank account, in which it’s going towards things like future concerts and such. But still, whoever knew that this music business would be a lot of work?”

The Changeling took a moment to take a sip of her tea.

At this point, it has been a few weeks since her recital, and since McCart quit his job as a sales pony, recorded the song for Yesterday, as well as the many other songs for Fancy Pant’s radio station, the student has been swamped underneath the workload. Needless to say, it had put a strain on both her school and social life. How Ocellus still found the time for her friend’s Top Secret Tea Party in the roof of one of the school’s tower’s – is a mystery even she couldn’t figure out. Nor would she care to question.

“Tell me about it,” Smolder said, “I get that this is huge for you so naturally you would be busy but… still…” She poured in another cup. “We’re starting to miss you after a while.”

Ocellus’s ears folded back. “I know… I know…” She sighed. “Forget that I barely have any time for sleep to do homework and finish other projects, me being away from you guys isn’t fair for any of you. Between trying to help out with writing songs and recording them, I’m barely keeping together as to what day it is.”

“Has the thought came to you that maybe you should have a break?” The Dragoness questioned. “I mean, you don’t have to work yourself so hard when you’re still a student for crying out loud.”

Her Changeling friend shook her head. “Not now. Not yet. There’s still an outdoor concert that needs to be organized, not to mention planning to go on tour for Spring Break and-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Smolder put her teacup down. “What do you mean you’re going on tour for Spring Break?”

“Did I tell you?” Ocellus blinked. “I could have sworn I did.”

“No, this is news to me.”

“Oh… Well, I’m planning to visit Yakyakistan, then to the Changeling Kingdom, go down to the Hippogriff Kingdom before coming back here.”

“I rest my case.” Smolder waved a claw. “Going on tour is one thing, but to go to three different places, each of which is about a good couple thousand miles or so apart, and you’re planning to do all of that within a week? I don’t know about you, but that sounds a little excessive to me.” She picked up a cookie and, after taking a bite from it asked, “Besides, even if you are going to do that, how the hey are you going to travel from one corner of the planet to the next and still come back in time for school?”

“Well, I figured that maybe I could get Starlight’s help for that.” She answered. “After all, I hear she’s good at teleporting at very long distances. But if that doesn’t work, I could go by flying.” She took picked up a cookie. “Besides, you are right on one thing. I do need a bit of a break before I start singing again. Given how there’s still so much left to do.”

“Now you’re listening to reason!” Smolder said. “Look, how about you take a few days off during the weekend to go on a camping trick with us? Just give us time to relax and all.”

Ocellus smiled. “I’d love that. After I'm done recording a few songs we should- oh!” The Changeling slapped the side of her head. “I’d nearly forgot! I’ve managed to hammer down one of the songs I’m gonna play by memory. You wanna hear?”

Smolder’s smile drooped. “Uh… You wanna do that, now?”

“Why not? While we’re on break, I want to hear your opinion on how I’m doing before I go in to record. Here, let me go get my guitar.”

Ocellus exited their secret spot before Smolder could get a word out. While she waited, she recalled what Gallus had theorized. As much as she told herself that it was unlikely, that it couldn’t be true… most of the songs she’s been hearing from her friend seemed to suggest otherwise. Did Ocellus had felt something for her, and she didn’t realize it? And if that were true… how was she going to break it to her without hurting her friend in the process?

“Got it,” Ocellus said suddenly when she reentered. Sitting down across from the Dragoness, she held up her guitar. “Personally, I think this one is my favorite so far. It’s called Marechelle. Keep in mind, there’s gonna be more to it when I record this, but at least you’d get a general idea of it.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Smolder said with a forced smile.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goMWu5taXBU

So, the young Changeling began by strumming a few simple chords that at first didn’t sound that remarkable. That was until she started singing – and within the first verse, it was clear that this was a love song. In Smolder’s ears, a beautiful one. Probably the best one she’s ever heard. And that fact alone made not only for the Dragoness to lose her smile, but to be knifed with dread over what she has to do.

‘Goddess, this is going to be so hard.’ She thought, ‘I mean… telling Ocellus, probably the most peaceful, positive, intelligent and kindest out of all of us that I don’t love her like that. She may not write the song but she’s making an effort here… Oh great! She’s singing it in Prench now! What am I going to say without her making her cry? ‘Sorry, I’m not into girls?’ ‘Beautiful song, but I’m not that into you?’ How come in the School of Friendship that they never teach you stuff like this?’

“Smolder?” The Dragoness blinked, realizing that her friend had stopped playing and is instead looking at her concerned. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed into her claws.

Ocellus got up. “Smolder, are you okay?”

“Don’t… hate me for saying this.” She began.

“Huh?”

“Ocellus…” She hesitated, lifting her head. “Look… I’m flattered. Really, I am. It’s just… I don’t it’s gonna work out like this.” She winced as she saw her friend had a hurt expression.

“W-What are you saying?”

“I…” She sighed. “You know what? I can’t figure out a better way to sugar-coat this… Ocellus…” She scratched the back of her head. “What is it that the ponies say…? My barn door doesn’t swing that way.”

The Changeling blinked. “Huh?”

“Do I have to spell it out to you?” She asked. “I’m not into girls. There! I’m sorry I have to break this to you, but I’m not… I mean you’re a good friend and all, the best one out there, it’s just I don’t think I’m… that into you.”

“Wait… what?” Ocellus tilted her head in confusion.

“C’mon, all these love songs.” She waved her claw. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice? Ocellus, I’ve already figured out that they’re meant for me. And… to be honest, it’s flattering that you’re doing all of this for me. But in the long run, it’s not gonna work out because I’m not a lesbian.”

There was a long… long awkward silence between the two of them.

“Okay,” said Ocellus, “I did not see that coming.”

“Huh?”

“You think that all those love songs are for you?” Ocellus blinked. “But I’m not in love with you.”

The confused Smolder, “Wait, they’re not?”

“Look, if I wanted to write love songs and poems to say that I love you, don’t you think I would have sung something else? What gave you the idea that I was anyway?”

“Gallus.”

“Ooh…” Ocellus nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But he did bring up a good point though.” Her friend asked her what she meant. “I mean, typically when girls sing about love, it’s usually to a guy. But this whole time you’ve been singing things like ‘And I Love Her,’ ‘She Loves You,’ and now this. Don’t you see a pattern here? It’s about you, a girl, singing directly to… well… a girl.”

“O-Oh…” The Changeling blushed. “Wow uh… you know, I was so caught up with these songs that I didn’t think about that…”

Another awkward silence later and Ocellus said, “So… can I ask you a personal question?” She nodded. “Are you… you know… into girls?”

“I never said I was.”

“But that’s not a straight answer,” Smolder smirked at her own joke.

Ocellus sighed. “You want one…? I don’t know.”

The Dragoness blinked. “You don’t?”

“Can you blame me?” The young Changeling asked. “Since I was hatched under the reign of Chrysalis, I didn’t have time to stop and think who I’m attracted to. We have to go out to hunt for love to collect for the Hive. And even with King Thorax, now my attention has shifted over to doing well in school, being a quasi-representative of the Hive, and to top it all off, starting to become noticed for these songs – well… I just don’t know. Even if I did, I don’t think I’m, well… ready for something like that.”

“Not ready to go on a date?”

Ocellus shook her head. “Not until I get time to breathe. Besides, I haven’t found anyone of late that I would consider dating. But as to the songs – yeah, I should have thought of that.”

“Huh.” Smolder sat back down. A thought came to her, “One last question,” she asked picking her cup. “Didn’t you say once that Changelings can read emotions off of others?” Her friend nodded. “So… Just out of curiosity, have you sensed anyone-”

“I’m suspecting Gallus is developing a crush on Silverstream.” Ocellus said with a smile. “It’s not full-blown love yet, but for me, it’s noticeable that his goes up whenever he walks behind her.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” The two of them laughed.

Chapter 10 - Windmill Concert

It took a long time to not only record but rerecord each song so that to Ocellus, Pull and Dawn, they sounded perfect. Even with the older songs, they listened back to every note, every chord, and every vocal tone until they could say with confidence, “Yes! That’s it!” before moving on with the next one. Before they knew it, they recorded twenty-seven songs, ready to go and be heard on the radio.

Fancy Pants did come down to Ponyville as soon as they send word that the songs have been recorded – along with a few lawyers. The group negotiated in how payment was to be split up, giving Ocellus, Pull, and Dawn the copyrights and royalties to their songs. As well as handing the rights to their songs over to Fancy to be put on the air on his radio station. Before they signed any agreements, both they and Fancy came to a compromise that they will be paid based on a percentage of record sales, as long as they, in turn, give him at least two songs a week.

They agreed.

Two days later at noon, the radio station, Imagine 96.3, was launched; and for their opening song, they played Yesterday. As ponies who tuned into this new station, they heard the voice of Ocellus singing. Not only in Canterlot and Ponyville, but anyone in Equestria who had a radio heard the tunes of this young voice. Especially the young who after hearing one earworm after another, began writing to their radio stations if they would play this or that song again. All the better for Fancy, as it means that those stations would have to buy the songs from him.

One morning, after Ocellus had woken up and about to go out to her classes, she found Headmare Twilight there.

“Headmare? What are you-”

“Do not go outside of the school today.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Before she knew it, Twilight’s horn glowed brightly and before she knew it, Ocellus was in Twilight’s office. “Let’s just say that for the time being, you shouldn’t go outside because of your fans.”

Ocellus blinked. “I have fans?”

“Look out of the window.”

She did, flying over, the Young Changeling was astonished at what was outside of the school. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of ponies were camped outside of the school’s borders as if this portion of Ponyville was flooded by a multicolored army. There were tents and campfires, even portable toilets were set up.

“I tried to make sense of why they’re here.” Twilight said, “Apparently, they’re all here because someone got word that The Beatle happens to go to school here. If I didn’t put up a shield around the school… well… I don’t want to risk anypony getting hurt.”

“They’re all here for me?” The Headmare nodded. “How do you know that?”

“Besides talking to them, they have a sign posted just outside of the shield that says, ‘We Want the Beatle.’ I tried to ask them to go away, but they insisted on hearing from you.”

Ocellus looked between her and the fans outside. “All of this and we didn’t release a record yet. They must have heard me on the radio… I didn’t think I would get a response like this right away.”

“Well, we still need to do something about it. Because otherwise, nopony would be able to get in or out of the school.”

“Unless…” Ocellus began, the clockwork in her mind started turning. “I tell them to come back later.”

“Huh?”

“Well I was planning on doing an outdoor concert in the coming weeks but… maybe I need to move it sooner than expected.” Her head jerked up. “I got an idea!” Opening the window, she flew out before Twilight could stop her. She flew over towards the edge of the shield in which the crowd cheered loudly when they saw her.

“Uh… Excuse me?” She said but her voice was drowned out by the screams of her fans. “Hey! If everyone could just… If you could-”

“EVERYPONY SHUT UP!!!”

The sudden explosion of words was heard, and Ocellus turned around to see Twilight flying out with her. This sudden outburst was effective enough to quiet the fans down. Before Ocellus could speak, Twilight cast an amplifier spell on her so that they could hear.

Ocellus cleared her throat. “Yes, hello everyone! Can you all hear me?” They said they can. “Great! Now listen, I can assume that all of you have probably come a long way just to hear me sing, right?” They said they were. “All of you have to understand that I’m still a student that still needs to attend classes. But at the same time, I was planning for a concert in a few weeks. But, with all of you here, maybe I could make a change in plans.” There was a mummer from the fans. “So, I’ll tell you what. If all of you could wait until say… Tomorrow night, at eight o’clock over at the Windmill, I will set up an impromptu concert for all of you. Sound good?”

There was a shout in approval.

“Great, see you all until then.” She said with a smile before turning to Twilight who stared at her in disbelief. “What?”

“You do realize what just came out of your mouth, right?” She questioned. “You’re going to stage a concert tomorrow? Do you even have a plan for that?”

“Well…” Ocellus blinked. Realizing too late that she didn’t.

Even after Twilight told her to get to her classes, and as much as she tries to pay attention, Ocellus was confronted with the fact that despite giving all those fans a promise of a show – she didn’t have much of an idea as to how to put it together. For a while, she wasn’t sure what order the songs she had should be.

“So, rumor has it you’re going to have a concert tomorrow night at the windmill.”

It was during lunch hour when Ocellus looked up at Sandbar when he said it.

Ocellus slammed her had face-first into the table. “I think my mouth spoke before my head did.” She said. “What was I thinking?”

While Sandbar took his seat, Yona approached with her lunch. “What going on?”

“By the sound of it,” Sandbar said, “I think she’s gonna need our help.”

“With what?”

“I agreed to a crowd to do a concert before I’m prepared for it.” Ocellus said, lifting her head in time to see Yona sitting down as well as seeing Gallus and Silverstream approaching the table. “But he’s right, I’m in desperate need of help to get ready for tomorrow.”

“What do you need?” Sandbar asked.

“Well, apart from moving equipment up to the roof of the windmill – possibly wiring up a couple of loudspeakers up there – I also need to figure out which songs I’m gonna do, as well as probably have some security for crowd control.”

“If you’re looking for a good security guard,” Smolder said, walking in with a tray. “Then there’s no better than a flying dragon that can breathe fire.”

Ocellus thanked her for that.

“You said that there’s gonna be fans?” Gallus inquired. “Tell me, are they the kind that would happen to have bits?”

She shrugged. “Maybe? Although…” Ocellus thought for a moment. “If you were to sell tickets, I think it would limit the number of ponies there a bit. Which would make the job for security for you Smolder a lot easier.”

“I think I can tackle the tickets,” Gallus said, rubbing his talons his mind starting to daydream. “Along with other things.”

“But what about the songs?” Silverstream asked. “How many are you going to sing?”

“Well…” Ocellus mused. “There’s twenty-seven so far, and they’re going to all be put on a record soon-”

“But you don’t have to sing all of them, do you?” Sandbar asked. “I mean, most of your songs are about – what – two minutes give or take?” She nodded. “So if you were to sing all of those, that would be… About eighty-one minutes. Well over an hour. So maybe you don’t have to sing them all.”

“Could I do that?”

“Is there rule that say not to?” Yona asked.

“Well… no. There isn’t as far as I know. With concerts, I could make them as long as I want. So maybe I could just pick like… ten or so. Considering that I need to put this together, that would make the most sense.”

“Yeah.” Sandbar nodded. “Unless you’re doing a musical or something, I think it’s a good idea to keep it short.”

Ocellus nodded, and in her mind, she began to pick out the songs she’s done. She reasoned that she should pick out the ones that don’t require a large-scale orchestra. That, and it would make sense to use the same method that she used at the school dance as well, which means she needs to visit Octavia’s home to get the recordings for the karaoke versions for her to play with.

Then, a thought came to her.

“Would it be a good idea to introduce a couple of new songs at this concert?”

All of her friends looked up at her, stunned.

“What are you talking about?” Smolder questioned.

“Suppose I was to go to work with McCart and Lemon where we just make up a few new songs before the concert.”

“Are you crazy?” Sandbar asked her. “You have about a day left; I don’t know if there’s enough time for you guys.”

“But there’s a couple of really good ideas I could pitch to them. I think these would be crowd-pleasers.”

“Yona doesn’t think good idea,” Yona said. “Not possible to write up good songs in short amount of time.”

“Moztrot could do it.” Ocellus protested.

“Maybe,” Gallus pointed out, “but last time I checked, you’re not Moztrot.”

Immediately after school, Ocellus went towards her music teacher’s home. Before she could enter through the front door, she stopped and heard guitars playing, along with two familiar voices singing. So carefully opening the door, she stuck her head in to peek through and not interrupt the jamming session that was going on. Not only were Pull, Dawn, and Octavia were there, but so was a mare that Ocellus has never seen before.

Sitting on a wooden stool was a mare that looked as old as the stallions, one that had a straw blond mane that was tied back. Her fur was a cloudy gray, and the Changeling noticed the lens of a camera as her cutie mark. She held in her hooves a beaten-up black guitar case.

“Uh… E-Excuse me.” Ocellus said meekly.

The music died down and the older stallions turned to look at her.

“Ah!” Pull said with a smile, putting down his guitar. “Our muse has arrived!”

“Good timing too,” Dawn commented. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out what comes next to this bloody tune.”

Pull rushed over to pull Ocellus in. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” The young Changeling asked.

“So far they’re just playing nonsense,” Octavia told her. “For all I know, most likely not.”

“I want you to meet someone.” Pull said, pulling her over to the other mare in the room. “Ocellus, I’d like to introduce you to the light of me life, Lens. Lens, this is the Changeling that has changed our lives.”

“So, you’re The Beatle that everyone’s talking about,” Lens said, offering a hoof for her to shake.

Ocellus took the hoof in hers. “I’m sorry, but how do you two know each other?”

“She’s me wife.” Pull explained. “I met her after the band broke up in the sixties.”

“Okay, so what’s that?” She pointed at the guitar case.

“Funny story,” Lens said, “Not too long ago, I was going through the attic to clean it out. You know, throwing junk out and such. At first, I decided to throw this out as Pull here rarely plays on it. But an hour later, I got word from that he’s been offered ten-million bits if he just writes songs. So, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t throw this out, the garbage collector came by and tossed this into the truck. Then I had to run down the street to get him to stop so I could pull this back out. So after I came up here, Pull and I started talking. He said that he doesn’t see the use of playing it anymore so… maybe we should give this to you. As saying thanks for changing our lives.”

“Chances are,” Pull added, “You might need this more than I do.”

Curious, the young Changeling sat the case down and, after unlocking the latches, she opened it and gasped. Inside covered in a layer of dust as a bass guitar. One that had a slightly longer neck, four strings, had a pair of dials at one end of the sound body in which it was shaped like a violin. For the Changeling, she recognized the instrument almost immediately. This wasn’t just any bass guitar; it was the guitar that was as iconic as the band she knew.

“Is this…?”

Pull nodded. “My instrument when we were The Beatles. Since I’ve been neglecting it for a while, I figured that maybe it should be put into good use. I’m giving it to you.”

Ocellus shook her head. “No… No this… I don’t know if I can accept this.”

“Why not?” Lens asked. “It’s just an old guitar.”

“For you, yes. But to me… this is like being hoofed over a sacred artifact. I don’t know I’m allowed to touch it.”

“Here,” Pull said, his hoof outstretched, “lend me your hoof.” She did so, and he immediately brought it over to the neck of the instrument. “I, Pull McCart hereby allow Ocellus the Changling to touch this holy guitar. May she rock out with it long into the night. Amen!” Although Ocellus immediately withdrew, Pull chuckled. “Here,” he pulled the guitar out of its case, “give it a go.”

Taking the instrument into her hooves, she plucked the open chords that, although it did sound deep, couldn’t help but noticed that it sounded funny. All of a sudden, Dawn was laughing so she asked why.

“I knew I was forgetting something!” He said. “Pull’s strings are on backward.”

“Huh?”

“He’s left-hoofed. Back when we had the band, Pull couldn’t play the guitar like normal so he had to pull the strings out, and reattach them so that to anypony else, it would be like playing it upside-down!”

“Oh…” Pull said, taking the guitar back with an embarrassed blush. “I completely have forgotten about that.”

“Okay,” Ocellus cleared her throat. “It’s actually a really good thing you’re both here because I need your help.”

“On what?” Dawn inquired.

Ocellus told them what had happened this morning, of the multitude of fans, and her agreeing to do an impromptu concert tomorrow night. When she finished, she added. “Also, if it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could help me out with a couple of ideas that I think might interest you two.”

“Yeah?” Pull asked. “And how do they go?”

“Let’s see uh…” Ocellus rubbed her temples, concentrating on how exactly the songs go. “There’s one called Help!”

Dawn jerked. “Lady, there’s no need to scream.”

“No, that’s what it’s called.”

In the corner, Octavia took out a mug in which it was filled with tea. “This is going to be a long day.” She muttered.

If Ocellus was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to perform for a mob of fans that have doubled by the time, she was ready to perform. Not because out of stage fright for having to get up and sing to Celestia-knows-how-many. Nor is it over her safety as a couple of puffs of Smolder’s firry breath proved to even the most fanatical of fans that getting too close was not a good idea.

She was truly worried if the speakers that she had to borrow would be enough for everypony to hear her. Almost as far as the eye could see in every direction, ponies have climbed onto roofs, on trees, even stacking on each other. For the more winged fans, they brought down clouds in droves to the point that she could barely make out the night sky. There were even places on the hills where some were renting a telescope so that they could see her for about a minute at a time.

For good measure, someone had even brought out spotlights to shine onto the top of the windmill’s roof. Ocellus wasn’t sure where exactly the lights came from. Maybe one of her friends got it, but either way, the improvised stage is lit up like a Hearths Warming tree.

Inside the windmill, Ocellus peeked through one of the small windows. “There’s so many out there,” she said, “I didn’t think they would be this many already. We didn’t put out the first record yet.”

“Who cares?” Gallus said, “Do you know how many tickets I was able to sell?”

“Yes,” Sandbar deadpanned, “we could tell by the mountain of bits that’s downstairs right now.”

“To be fair,” Dawn commented, “I don’t think anypony would have seen this coming. Although I can picture that it’s gonna get pretty noisy out there in a minute.”

The Changeling looked back to not only to Dawn and Pull, but to her friends as well. “What exactly do I do if they’re being so loud that I can’t hear myself play?”

Pull put a hoof on her shoulder. “Listen, as long as you’re on that stage, you must remember the number one rule as a musician. That no matter what happens, you keep going. Even if you can’t hear yourself think, you keep on playing until the end.”

“You can do this,” Silverstream spoke up. “You’ve been amazing at the school dance and at that recital. So, I think you’ll be fantastic here too!”

“Hippogriff right,” Yona said with a smile, “Changeling got this.”

“It’s almost time,” Sandbar announced, looking at another window towards the clocktower. “So Ocellus, are you ready?”

Looking down at the violin-like guitar, although she was against it at first, telling Pull that she wasn’t familiar with playing the base, he had rearranged the strings to the way she would be familiar with, and her music teacher pointed out that she could play it fine as long she moved her hoof up an octave or two. She nodded. “I think so.”

“Great!” Gallus said from the beams of the windmill. “I’ll go out there and bring the hype to them. In the meantime, do what you gotta do.” The griffon went up the stairs to go through the trap door and onto the stage.

Smolder approached her friend who was taking deep breaths. “Hey, before you go up there, Headmare Twilight told me to give you some of these.” Stretching out her arm, she held in her claws a pair of green earplugs. “She figured that since it’s gonna be really noisy out there, you might as well put these in so that you wouldn’t go deaf when you’re playing.” At that moment, there was a roaring cheer from outside as they could hear Gallus saying something. “Looks like I gotta go. Need to head to the front door before they storm it.” She shook her hoof. “You’re gonna do fine out there.” With that, she quickly went downstairs.

Turning to the songwriters, she asked, “But, how am I be able to hear what I’m playing?”

“Well, your head knows what it’s doing before the rest of you do, right?” Dawn asked.

“He’s right.” Pull added. “Whatever you do, don’t doubt yourself. The moment you think you can’t do it, you’ll collapse. Before you step onto that state, believe that you will sing out every note and hold onto that as long as you can.”

Ocellus thanked both of them before picking up the guitar and walking up the steps to where Gallus was getting the crowd hyped up. She took this time to put those earplugs in, letting them swell up until the sound became somewhat muffled, but not the point where she couldn’t hear anything. Besides the sound of her heartbeat, she could still pick up on the cheering and Gallus getting them ready.

And then, they heard the chiming of the clocktower.

It was time.

“AND NOW!” Gallus shouted over the loudspeakers. “FOR THE MOMENT YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! HERE SHE IS! THE BEATLE!”

Ocellus pushed the trapdoor open, and there in the open air was a microphone, the buttons for her to help play her the songs, some very bright lights that blinded her from the full extent of the fans that were screaming at her in excitement, and the shadow of Gallus flying off.

She paused for a moment to breathe before stepping forward to the microphone, plugging the guitar in. “How is everyone doing?” she asked, getting a maddening shout of excitement. “With that, let’s get started with a good one, huh? I’ll start this off with a song called, ‘I Feel Fine.’”

Looking down, she adjusted her hoof down the neck before strumming the first note.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aOPLBtaD2A

On the loudspeakers, there was a thump, a wobbly sounding feedback and then, she pressed a button with a hoof and began to play. Playing ten seconds of a simple riff before she starts to sing, in which, she was immediately drowned out.

It was beyond annoying for Ocellus. She could barely hear the tempo of the song she was singing, let alone what she was playing on that guitar. However, she closed her eyes and focused on the song itself. It was like singing aloud in the middle of a battlefield among the continuous screaming. As much she wants to have a thought about if this what it must have been like for The Beatles she knew when they became popular, she couldn’t as she had to remain focused.

Meanwhile, down below at the base of the windmill, Smolder was scanning about for anypony foolish enough to get too close, and even if they did, she gave a puff of a fireball as a warning before they backed off. The dragoness stood at the only door in or out of the mill, her back against it before the hysterical fans. It wasn’t that she minded doing what was essentially guard duty for her friend, if only they were a little quieter.

Then she noticed a particular fan that was starting to get a little too close. In the light, she saw a chubby looking stallion. A blond unicorn who was light green and had an owl for a cutie mark and a camera in his aura.

“You’re getting too close,” Smolder warned him over the loud music.

But the fan either didn’t hear her or he’d ignored her. Regardless of the reason, she made her presence known by blowing a small fireball. It suddenly got his attention.

“H-Hey!”

“I said you were getting too close.” She said, “Back away.”

“C’mon, I wanna get close enough to get some good shots.”

Smolder looked up for a moment. “At what? You could barely see at this angle.”

“But I’m her number one fan!” He said, “I’ve formed a fan club and everything.”

“You just wanna get in here and interrupt her, do you?” She said dryly.

“No. I just to take a picture with her and get an autograph.”

Smolder shook her head. “I think now is the worst time. I mean she just started playing.”

“So… When can I see her?”

“Maybe after the show,” she shrugged, “but no promises.”

The stallion thought it over for a moment, “Well… if she can’t, then could I at least see her tomorrow?”

The dragoness frowned. “If you’ve made a reservation.”

“She has one of those? Well, my name is Aficionado and-”

“I was joking,” Smolder said sternly, her patients with this fan growing thin. “Now just stay back and try to enjoy the show.”

Dejected, Aficionado backed off just as Ocellus began to sing the next song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9WJS-Aj4OQ

As Ocellus began her next song, Gallus was pulling a cart full of trinkets through the screaming crowd. Mostly necklaces that had a medallion of a beetle in his friend’s colors, glowsticks that were in light blue, and bottles of cheap water.

“Get your genuine, limited edition Beatle necklace, glow stick and water!” He called out over the shouting crowd. “Souvenir, light, and hydration! Right here!”

He felt a tug on his wing and looked over to a dozen mares that he assumed to be his age.

One of them asked, “How much for the necklace?”

“Five bits,” he said, gesturing over, “the glowsticks are ten, and water is a bit.”

“We’ll take twenty.”

A hefty bag was tossed at him, much to his delight while the mares picked up some of the necklaces.

“Hey,” one of them asked, “do any of them come with her face on it?”

“Not yet.” He shrugged. “For now, that’s her symbol.”

“Did she make these herself?”

“Would you by another if I said yes?” She nodded. “Yes.”

“She sounds so good.” Gallus turned to a stallion who said this, “She should make a record.”

“Ya know,” he told him, “from what I’ve heard, they’re putting together one.”

“Yeah?” This got the attention of the fans within earshot. “When is it coming out?”

The griffon shrugged. “No idea, but I think it should be soon. With probably more on the way.”

“She has more songs?” Another fan asked.

“How many has she made?”

“How did she get so good?”

“Did she have any help writing them?”

Gallus was being overwhelmed by being asked so many questions at once that there was no way for him to answer any of them. It got to the point where he had to put a couple of talons in his beak and blew a loud whistle. They stopped asking questions.

“You done?” He asked. “Look, I’m just a guy selling Beatle’s memorabilia, not her manager. Now do you want any of this stuff or not?”

A minute later, Gallus moved on further into the crowd, making his pitch and pocketing his money. All the while, when he was looking over at the sheer number of fans, he was thinking. There was a part of his reasoning that if more ponies spread the word about his friend than more ponies would want a little something that they’re willing to throw money at them. Perhaps, when the album comes out, he could get her to sign them before turning around and selling them to others. Maybe he could commission someone to make dolls of Ocellus – she was adorable enough that the appeal would probably skyrocket.

‘I wonder if I could start up tours to show ponies around Ponyville, and just point around saying that this is where she came up for this or that song. Hm… nah, that won’t work? What if I sell postcards with her picture on it? Hm… maybe, but wouldn’t they want more than that like a mug or a poster? Or how about I go find a place that makes custom bobble-head dolls…? No, too corny. Oh! I got it! Make life-size cardboard cut-outs. Well, then again, with all these good ideas, maybe I should open up a gift shop just outside of the school.’

‘Goddess, this is torture!’ Ocellus thought to herself after she played about twenty-five minutes of music. It was almost half-an-hour, and already her hindlegs felt they were ready to crumble and fall. Her forehooves went numb after the first four songs she did. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was playing the right notes, or if any of the never-ending wails of the audience understood a word of what she said.

However, despite how tired she was, regardless of how much sweat that was running down from the marathon of a performance, she knew that she was almost there. Just two more songs.

She tapped on the microphone. “Excuse me, everyone? May I have your attention please?” Mercifully, a minute later, the mob of fans has calmed down somewhat for her to speak. “Before this is over, I just wanna say thank you all for coming out here tonight.” There was a shout before she continued. “However, before this can be over, I’m happy to tell all of you that I have been working with the genius songwriters, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, and over the course of twenty-four hours, we were able to come up not one, but two new songs. That means you’re all going to be the first to hear it be performed live.” They shouted in excitement. “So, are we ready to hear them?”

The maddening shrieking gave the answer.

“Okay, first up, is a song called A Hard Day’s Night.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iKOpETMtAo

There were some cheers as Ocellus looked down at the guitar and at the last two buttons that she hadn’t pressed. So, with a strung of chords, she pressed one of the buttons and she began to sing. Perhaps in hindsight, she realized that there was a personal irony to having her sing this. Being worked day and night on this concert, trying to memorize every note of not only the songs she had recorded but the newer ones as well in time. On the one hoof, she hated every moment of being on that stage because of how rushed this all was. She had little time to prepare, and lesser time to get ready. Maybe this was one of the reasons why the original Beatles broke up. Because she couldn’t imagine doing something like this night after night, in city after city. If she did this too often, she might end up snapping.

On the other hoof, she was falling in love with it. A month or so ago, she couldn’t imagine herself of being a kind of rock star, playing music from one of the greatest bands of all time that she was reintroducing the world to. As draining as it was, being ready to almost drop, she could feel the love from the audience that they were freely giving her. She knew that as long as she was on that stage playing, they were there to give her enough energy, just enough to keep her going until the end of each song. While a vicious cycle, something was intoxicating about having a huge audience that was all paying attention to her in the spotlight. At one moment, she thought that as long as stuff like this was done sparingly, she might get used to this.

Within a moment, she got to the point she most difficult part – the riff. A move in which it took Ocellus hours over this deceptively simple solo. Trying as hard as she could to make sure that each note is where it needed to be in the right order at the right time. As much as she was stressing out of making sure she got it right, it was certainly a crowd-pleaser as she could hear the roar, even when the earbuds were still in her ears.

From there, it was easy as she finished out the last verse of the song and ending it smoothly. She sighed in relief. That was one song down. Just one more and then she could collapse somewhere. The Changeling looked out to the crowd, stepping back so that they wouldn’t hear her panting. Giving herself a moment as well as the crowd to settle down just a little before giving them their finale.

When she stepped up to the mic, that without any introduction, she stomped on the last button and burst out the very first word of the song. “HELP!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cfCxLoZ2dw

Below at the windmill, Smolder looked up as soon as Ocellus said that. At first, she wasn’t sure if her friend was calling out for help or singing. But either way, it certainly got her attention. Although it took her a moment to determine which one, her ears were perked up as she listened to – in her mind at least – Ocellus venting out. She listened to the lyrics closely, and for some reason, there was something genuine about hearing her insecurities on stage. She could hear it in her voice, the sound of annoyance, anxiety, desperation, dread, all coming out of the speakers – pleading for help. It came out in a raw but never appeared as unpleasant to the ear.

‘Goddess, she’s pushing herself too far.’ Smolder thought. ‘She must be stressed out beyond belief up there. I mean, on top of the stuff that’s due at school and this, Ocellus needs to have a break. Maybe I could talk to Headmare Twilight to have her be excused for a day or so before she snaps.’

The dragoness listened to how since Ocellus’s life has changed that she expressed that her independence and security have seemed to have disappeared, that she needs help. Actual help. Perhaps with all the money, they’ve made, they should probably get Ocellus to a place where she could relax. Maybe the local spa could lend a hoof.

Chances are, the rest of her friends are probably thinking of the same thing.

A minute or so later, Ocellus had finished with the song. “That’s all I have everyone, thank you and good night.” The changeling said to the thunderous applause before turning away towards the trap door and wobbling her way down.

Ocellus was greeted by Silverstream and Sandbar, “Well done up there!” Sandbar congratulated her. “That was the best.”

“T-Thanks.” She said, her hooves buckling. “I uh… I need to sit down…”

“You were great up there!” Silverstream told her with a smile. “I can say now that I’m officially a fan-”

Thump!

Ocellus was on the floor. Mercifully the guitar had missed her exhausted body hitting the floor and falling asleep.

“She okay?” McCart asked in concern while Yona and Lemon rushed over.

“I think she really worked herself out,” Dawn said, moving the guitar aside. “I’m surprised her hooves aren’t bleeding.”

“Tell me about it,” Sandbar agreed. “She must be exhausted. We should get her to bed.”

“Put Ocellus on Yona’s back,” the ponies and the hippogriff helped the sleeping Changeling onto the Yak’s back in which her hooves dangled off. “Ocellus worked hard. Ocellus needs rest.”

“I think she’d deserved it.” Dawn nodded. “Maybe a couple of days or so at least.”

“Of course…” Pull pointed out, “We gotta get past all the fans first. At least it’s a good thing we have a dragon to clear the way.”