The Snow on Her Cheek

Chapter Thirty-Three

Midnight Sun

***

"Pass."

"Hit me."

"With pleasure, Vinyl."

"Hey, Tavi! Gimme a card, I mean!"

The blackjack game was in progress as the sun slowly crawled down the sky, towards its cosy bed at the horizon. Lyra and Bon-Bon's flat was extremely cosy and the atmosphere was pleasant, save for the cigar smoke that was coming from Lyra's side.

"Shall we show our hooves?" Bon-Bon asked, confident in her victory. None of the ponies really knew the rules, but each one of them knew: the closer your score was to twenty-one, the better.

"Sure, hon." Lyra threw her cards on the table with a grin. "Nineteen, babies!"

Vinyl planted her face into the table with a groan. "Twelve," she mumbled, displeased with the whole concept of the game.

Bon-Bon smiled and revealed her game.

Lyra gasped in disbelief. "Twenty?!" She threw her hooves around the cream-coloured mare's neck, dragging her into an embrace. "Bonnie, you're awesome!"

"Yes, I know," Bon-Bon agreed, freeing herself from her wife's grasp. "At least I bring some money to our household."

Octavia coughed and gently placed her cards on the table, slowly turning them.

Lyra and Bon-Bon gasped at the same time, making Vinyl raise her head and look at her lover, first, and then at the cards.

"Twenty-one," Octavia said softly and grabbed the pile of bits that had been in the kitty.

Vinyl grinned and her goggles flashed, reflecting the artificial light of the lamp. "Yes, fillies, my Tavi's amazing like that," she said with a slight artistic bow.

"More like your 'Octy', eh?" Lyra winked at the white unicorn, laughing.

"Vinyl, you didn't!" Octavia yelled.

"She didn't," the mint unicorn calmed her instantly. "Just... the walls aren't exactly soundproof, you know?"

Octavia groaned and mumbled something about trimming the walls while Vinyl blushed fiercely and sent the mint unicorn a scolding look.

"Oh, before I forget..." Lyra took out a bag of bits from her saddlebags. "Here's your pay."

Octavia eyed the bag suspiciously. "For what?" she asked, looking at the unicorn.

"The recording, of course!" Lyra exclaimed and moved the bag closer to the cellist. "Also contains your share from the sales." She grinned victoriously. "It's been only what, a week? And I've already sold ten thousand copies of your single. Time to make a full album, you know?" she suggested.

Vinyl shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. What do you say, Tavi?" she addressed her mare, who rubbed her chin.

"Well, I don't see a reason why we shouldn't." She opened the bag and her mouth fell agape. "Seven hundred bits?! For a single recording session?!" She lifted her head, her gaze meeting Lyra's. The mint unicorn shrugged idly.

"Yeah, I know that's not much." She smiled apologetically. "But I really didn't ask much for a copy of your recording, given it's a single, and your first one at it. Of course, the next one will cost twice as much!" she quickly assured the musical ponies.

"Not much?!" Vinyl exclaimed, no longer able to restrain herself. "Lyra, that's what I used to earn for half a year of daily work!" She looked at the mint pony in disbelief. "Are you sure this money is ours?"

Lyra nodded as Octavia placed the bag into her saddlebag, surprised as well. Sure, she was used to prosperity, given her birth, but... this all seemed very surreal. Seven hundred bits was a huge sum of money, after all.

"Then we need to celebrate!" Vinl exclaimed, throwing her hoof in the air.

"How about a foursome?" Lyra suggested with a sly grin, immediately receiving a punishing slap from her wife.

Vinyl rubbed her chin. "Hmm... Now that I think about it... Ouch, Tavi!" She rubbed her forehead that had been hit by the grey hoof of justice. "You ponies are no fun... All right!" The pianist quickly regained her cheerful mood, remembering that Octavia and she, in fact, had just got relatively rich. "To the tavern, then!"

With that, the white pony stood up, her hoof high in the air, pointing at the door. In a moment, she was already trotting out of the door, accompanied by her groaning marefriend. In a moment, Lyra and Bon-Bon followed as well.

***

The band played really well, Octavia noted as she sat at table with her mare and their neighbours, sipping wine. The little jazz bar wasn't exactly a clean place, but it wasn't a dirty pub either. It was just the perfect place for jazz, and the quartet really did contribute to the atmoshere.

She looked at the small stage lit by neon lights - a rather new invention, at the time. The quartet was no doubt led by the pianist, who sat at his piano royally, his hat covering his short mane, while his black coat shone in the light, adding a hint of mystery to the musician. The saxophonist supported the melodious part really well, while the drummer, a rather large bearded stallion, kept the beat lively and pulsating. The bassist, whose glasses surely didn't break the general image of bad-flankness (Octavia considered adding this word to her vocabulary), was supporting the song with short, rhythmic passages, filling empty spaces in the crazy improvisation frenzy.

"They sound really good, don't they?" Vinyl asked her mare, tapping her on the shoulder.

Octavia blinked and turned around, facing the white pianist with a smile. "Yes, they are." She planted a little kiss onto the mare's forehead, making her blush. "But you're still my favourite pianist."

Ponies who saw the little show of affection smiled; some shook their heads with an occasional chuckle; some exchanged a word with their friends; but none of them frowned in disgust, or stood and walked away, or said something about the indecency of filly-fooling. This was a great relief for both Vinyl and Octavia, especially after Manehattan.

Seeing that there was nothing wrong with showing their feelings in public, Vinyl leaned in and pecked Octavia on the cheek softly, whispering in her ear, "And you're always my favourite cellist." Not that I know any other cellists who can play jazz... But that doesn't matter. Tavi's the best of the best, she concluded firmly, bathing in her love towards her mare.

Bon-Bon and Lyra exchanged knowing looks. "Reminds me so much of us some half a year ago," Bon-Bon said to her wife, who nodded and leaned in to whisper something in the cream-coloured ear, which immediately turned red.

"Yes, I do remember that one time," Bon-Bon whispered to Lyra. "But..." She was, however, silenced with a deep kiss from her mare the next instant. In a few minutes of hushed whispers after breaking the kiss, the mares stood up, Lyra grinning widely and Bon-Bon blushing fiercely.

"We... Need to leave you for a moment," the cream-coloured mare said to Vinyl and Octavia, who nodded idly, enthralled by the performance of the quartet, which, by now, had reached the point where the piano and the sax fell silent, while the bassist sweated himself out, playing the hardest passages and harmonies, keeping the rhythm at the same time. His eyes were blissfully closed, his tense hoof ran up and down the long neck of the instrument.

Suddenly, he screamed in pain, collapsing to his knees, holding his left hoof with his right one. Apparently, his hoof was strained, and he couldn't play any more. The pianist, who was standing nearby, tapping his hoof to the rhythm (a very peculiar and unique manner, Octavia noted; while he wasn't playing, he wasn't just sitting at his instrument idly, but instead bathed in the music), now ran up to his fellow musician, bending over him.

The audience began talking in hushed whispers; the drummer looked ready to stop playing at any moment.

"The show's over," Vinyl said sadly. "Poor guy; he was playing so damn well..."

No! a voice screamed in Octavia's head. Will you really let the music die, Octavia? The grey pony shook her head in determination. "The show will go on," she whispered and got up, quickly galloping towards the fallen instrument.

She took the bass up, waving at the drummer to keep the rhythm, and ran her hoof across the neck, much to the surprise of the band, of her mare, and, to be honest, of herself. Come on, Octavia, she told herself. It's a double bass; just like a big cello. Feel the rhythm and play.

She took a few experimental plucks at the strings. Yes, they were sturdier than cello strings, but similar. She played a few scales, just to drive into the instrument. Then, with a smile, she started off with a plain, but tasty, rhythm, which was soon supported by the sound of sax and piano. She cast a side glance to the bassist, who was sitting on the floor in awe, his mouth agape, as he eyed her. He even seemed to have forgotten about the pain, looking at how well his instrument was treated by a complete stranger.

Octavia played on and on, fully involved in the wonderful feeling of being part of the music. Bon-Bon and Lyra returned to the table, but Vinyl didn't notice them: she was looking at her mare, her red eyes shining with tears behind her goggles, her very soul reaching out to Octavia.

She turned around for a moment, only to see Lyra and Bon-Bon stare at the stage in confusion and amazement. She took off her goggles and met their looks.

No matter what would happen in the future, she was sure only of one thing.

"I'm totally gonna marry her."