"A minor, Vinyl."

My marefriend obeyed my request to play her violin in that key.  She stared at the sheet music in front of its stand, then moved her hoof accordingly to the key and swiped the bow across the strings.  My ears folded against my head as the key was not played in the specific one I requested.  I waited for her to finish the piece before speaking.

"No, Vinyl.  A minor."

She nodded and squinted at the sheet.  Without taking her scarlet eyes off the paper, she lifted her bow and slowly prodded it against the strings.  This time the correct key is played.  The song continued, albeit a tad scratchy.  I smiled at her progress.  I don't blame her for being off tune.  She was taught the violin from her uncle years back and probably forgot.  Sooner or later she will get it.

I find it quite humorous to my own accord about Vinyl's personality.  It's like...she has a double life or something.  It's odd, but hear me out on this, it makes somewhat of sense.  Now, Vinyl is usually tomcoltish, a little brash, headstrong, somewhat of a slob, and likes to 'party hard' as she puts it late at night.  She does have her sweet and caring side that reminds me of an innocent filly with a crush.  However, last night she was refined.  Reflecting almost like a noble throughout the entire night.  She picked up an accent fairly quickly, and can now speak it fluently.  Her vocabulary, poise, elegance, and attitude has increased, too, when she is in her alter ego --if I may call it that-- 'Shellac Staccato.'  

I looked at the clock, noon.  Father will be here shortly.  Yesterday was my performance, and today is Heaths Warming Day.  After my performance yesterday, I sat with my father and Vinyl.  The two unicorns had a small conversation about me while I was onstage, and Vinyl told him that we have been living together for a few months after she 'rescued' me from the streets.  I more so blatantly put it as 'forced me against my will'.  After that, we had casual conversations.  One thing that struck me by surprise was that Vinyl had told my father her real name.  Come to think of it, it's not really that surprising.  I mean, we live together, we can't lie about Vinyl's identity to my father like we can with the other nobles.

The only thing that frightens me now is telling my father about my relationship.

The questions attacked my mind in a full force invasion.  What will he say?  What will he do?  Will he approve?  Will he shun me for being a fillyfooler?!  No please, not that!  Not after our reunion yesterday!  I can't lose him again!  Deep breaths, Octavia, deep breaths.  Everything will be fine...hopefully.  My father already told me that he will love me no matter what.  Please be true to your words, daddy.

"Tavi?!  Hellooooo?!"

I blinked and shook my head.  "Yes, dear?"  I asked.

"I've been calling your name for a minute!" She said with a stern gaze.  

"Sorry...I was just...lost in thought."  

Her eyes softened.  "Anything bothering you?"

I looked to her with a pleading expression.  I guess now is as good a time as any to explain things.  "I was just wondering, how are we going to tell father about...us?"  I said, motioning a hoof between us.

Vinyl seemed to be focusing her gaze between everything that wasn't me.  "Uhhh...we don't?"  She said slowly.

I sighed.  "We have to eventually.  He is my father."

"Yeah...and I'm still ticked that you lied to me about him!"  Vinyl lashed.

Oh no, not this again.  "Vinyl...I already apologized yesterday!  I'm sorry that I lied to you, but back then I hated you and didn't want you to know I still had a living relative!"

Vinyl chucked...wait what?  She then came up to me and kissed my cheek.  "I'm just joking.  I'm not mad at you."  She looked down and started to fiddle with her hooves.  "Truth is...I haven't been so honest with my family either."

"Really?"  I raised a brow.  "Would you like to talk about it?"

My marefriend opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out as she was interrupted by the doorbell.  No doubt my father's here.  I gulped and braced myself for the worst.  Worst being the unknown.  Or worst being my father rejecting me or calling me sick and twisted or the like.  "You know,"  I said to Vinyl.  "maybe we should just pretend we aren't home and hope he goes away."  I nonchalantly made my way to a corner in the garage to hopefully tremble in a large, empty box.  However, my quest was halted as Vinyl surrounded me in her magical aura.  I was unceremoniously lifted in the air and brought in front of her.

"No, Tavi."  She said sternly.  "We can't avoid this forever."  

She soon put me down, and I fell to my haunches with my head hung low.  "I suppose you're right."  My tone hung on the edge of rejection and fear.

I suddenly felt her arms wrap around my midsection.  Her chin rested on my shoulder as her head tilted towards mine.  She started to nuzzle my cheek, eliciting a blush from both of us.  I turned my head and caught her lips with my own, gracefully pouring out my passion into her.  Instantly I felt so much more at ease.  Fires of passion burning inside me replaced the feeling of unease towards my fathers reaction.  To hell with what he thinks, I like being together with Vinyl.

We would've stayed embraced longer if it weren't for the doorbell ringing again.  Dammit, daddy, I was having a moment.  Oh well, Vinyl and I untangled ourselves and I went over to answer the door.  Making sure my cravat was on straight, and my blush is completely gone, I opened it.  

There he stood, Arpeggio Harmonious, son of Figaro Harmonious, at my doorstep.  He bore a warm, inviting smile once he caught sight of me.  A smile that welcomed me and calmed my nerves better than any sleeping drug can.  After being apart for so long, even before the beginning of my downfall, having the ludicrous thought that he would disown me as his daughter, and now knowing that he still loves me and will never stop put a number on my nerves.  I feel as if every last weight on my shoulders has been lifted.  My career is back, I'm living under a roof with warm food and a bed, I'm in a happy relationship with Vinyl Scratch, my former nemesis.  My father still loves me and will always stay by my side, and I have regained confidence in myself after so long.

After a pleasant silence, I went over to embrace my father.  "Merry Hearth's Warming, daddy."

I felt his muscular arms ever so gently wrap around my back.  "Merry Hearth's Warming to you too, sweetheart."  

We broke apart and I gestured my hoof to the dining room table.  "Come on in, father, I'll make us some tea."

If I remember correctly, father's favorite tea is jasmine.  Bloody hell, I think I might have some left.  I made my way over to the kitchen and opened a cabinet where I usually keep the tea and coffee.  Let's see...mint...sweet tea...Thai...vanilla pudding...here we go!  Now to get the kettle, turn on the stove, and there.  I went back over to the table and found that Vinyl and my father were already engrossed in a conversation, father having just asked what Vinyl does for a living. She earned a few curious glares from him as he awaited an answer.  Dammit, I completely forgot to take in mind that my father might not approve of me living with the most famous modern day musician, who is hated by almost all of the noble class, even if he thinks we are just friends.  

Before Vinyl could say anything, I interjected by clearing my throat.  "So uh..."  Let's see, what is a good distraction...Wait  a second..."Vinyl, why are you wearing your glasses?"

She tilted her head in confusion and cautiously tapped the rim of her trademark shades.  "Should I...not be wearing them?"  

I nodded.

She quickly shot me a quivering lip.  "B-but why?"

I sighed and brought my hoof to my face.  Something Vinyl dubs as 'facehoofing'.  "Vinyl, this is my father, he is not going to judge your eyes.  You don't have to be afraid or ashamed to take them off around him just as you do to me."  I said in my 'motherly-like-scolding-tone'.

"Come now, Octavia."  My father said.  "I don't mind if the poor girl doesn't want to take her glasses off.  It can be done at a later time when she feels more comfortable around me."

I nodded.  "Very well."  By my words, Vinyl Scratch, you will show my father your eyes.

"Anyway," My father continued, "Ms. Scratch was just telling me about her profession in the music industry, weren't you?"

"Yes sir!  But please, call me Vinyl.  'Ms. Scratch makes me sound old."  

We all gave a hearty chuckle at that.  Even though the real reason Vinyl doesn't want to be called 'Ms. Scratch' is that it makes her feel 'fancy and uptight'.  If she were to be called 'Ms.' it would only be accompanied by 'Staccato'.  And she would only use 'Staccato' when she is accompanied by me at an upper class gathering.

"But yeah," Vinyl continued, "I'm a DJ.  I go to nightclubs and play on my turntables."

I gulped.

Father nearly choked on his tea.  "I'm sorry, did you say 'DJ?'"

Vinyl nodded.  "Yes sir, Vinyl Scratch aka DJ Pon-3."

Without a moments hesitation, father threw a questioning glare towards my direction.  "DJ-Pon-3 eh?"  He said.  "So you're that filly that is supposedly one of the most famous ponies in the modern music industry, correct?"

"I wouldn't say the 'most famous', but my name is floatin' around up there."  You know, I like how Vinyl is being very polite and respectful, but I'm still worried that my father will take her as the stereotypical lower class scumbag.  

"I see."  Father said before turning to me.  "Octavia my dear, what is going on?"

I blink.  Is father speaking to me in Istallion so Vinyl cannot understand us?  Daddy!  Since when were you so rude?!  I sigh, fine I'll play your game.  "What ever do you mean, father?"  Bleh, My accent is horrible and my words are so mispronounced, but I'm sure he understands me.

"I mean what are you doing living with...this girl?"

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to lash out and staying my tongue from any harsh words.  "Father, what do you mean by 'this girl'?"

His eyes narrow.  "I'm just saying she doesn't seem like the kind of pony you want to be around."

I take a deep breath, "Father, I know what you're thinking, and I can tell you now she is not the stereotype that you perceive her to be!  She is kind, caring, gentle, sweet, and not at all a 'scumbag' or a 'junkie' or any of that other rubbish!"

He sighs and buries his face into his hooves.  "Octavia, all I'm saying is that you should watch yourself.  Ponies like her are manipulative and unpredictable."

I look at him with shock written all over my features, "Manipulative and unpre--FATHER, how could you say such things?!"

"Look, the way I see it is, you've been living in the ghetto for a year, and now you're living with a pony like her...all these outside influences are pointing down a wrong path here, Octavia."

I bang my hoof on the table at his accusation.  "Father do you think I'm doing DRUGS?!  Is that what you're getting at?"

He puts his hooves up defensively, "I never said--"

"Enough, father.  I will not stand here while you accuse me of succumbing to that lifestyle!  I thought you had more faith in me than that!"

"Octavia, I never said that.  I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be living with the likes of her."

"THAT IS ENOUGH FATHER.  I will not have you insulting my marefriend right in front of my face!"

Both Vinyl and my father stare at me with wide eyes.  Apparently at some point during my rant, I stopped speaking in Istallion, and also I apparently clung onto Vinyl as well.  

I look over at Vinyl.  She looks extremely nervous from my outburst and is slightly blushing.  I think back to the first day I met her.  I think back to how much I despised her because of the same prejudice that my father has.  I think back on how all of those prejudices are wrong.  Vinyl is in no way any of those.  She cared for me, even after all the harsh things I said to her, even after the nasty attitude I had towards her, she still found a way to befriend me.  Even after all that we have been through, she still found a way into my heart.  And I have, too.

I don't care anymore.  I don't care if my father lashes out and disowns me.  I have to stand up to him.  I am a grown mare; I shouldn't rely on his opinions or seek out his approval.  I am my own mare through and through.  No more cowering and gluing to his side.  No more trotting in his horseshoes anymore.  He can not, and will not, insult my marefriend anymore.