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Symphony for the Rival

by No More

Chapter 3: Chapter III

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Chapter III

Tempting...

"So then I said, 'Hey, you gotta problem with me?-"

So...tempting...

"-I mean he was the one who started it anyway-"

It's just sitting...right...there...

"-but the dude who ran the place didn't seem to care-"

I can do it.  I can do it.  Just...one...flick of the hoof.

"-but before I could do anything about it he-WOAH!"

Dammit...so close.

Vinyl looked back to observe the knife that is impaled on the backrest of her chair.  She turned to face me, then back to the knife, then back to me.  Each attention shift came with a facial expression that was somewhere between anger and fear.  I don't know, it's still hard to tell facial expressions with those blooming glasses of hers.

"W-what?  How?  Why?!  What's gotten into you!"  She yelled as she attempted to remove the utensil from the backrest.

I roll my eyes.  "I'm fairly certain you know exactly what's 'gotten into me'.  I mean, it's not sitting across the table from me or anything."

Vinyl scoffs.  "C'mon, I'm just trying to make some friendly conversation!  And here you are tryin' to kill me...with a butter knife..."

"I don't suppose you have anything sharper."  I reply.

She ignores my question and opens her mouth to say something, however she sighs and exhales.  She continues whatever she was previously talking about.  "As I was saying...So after I got all the paperwork and crap figured out, the dude was all like-"

"Vinyl!"  I yell.  "Listen to me.  I.  Don't.  CARE!"  I bang my hoof on the table, causing her to flinch.  "I don't care about your stories.  I don't care about your life.  I don't care about you!  I'm just trying to live out a peaceful coexistence!  Do you know what that means?  As long as I'm unprovoked, I will leave you alone.  Got that?  So would you kindly respect my wishes and LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Damned bloody bint.  I hope I go deaf from that damned music just so I won't have to listen to her anymore.  I have made the point clear, many, many times that I do not want to be friends with her!  Since I have no other choice than to stay, I have to put up with her idiocy daily.  I just don't understand her.  Why work so hard, even after all the rubbish I've been giving her, to try to befriend me when I clearly don't want it?  It's like everything goes in one ear and out the other, and that's an understatement.

The rest of the meal went by quickly and quietly, just how I like it.  Once I finish and set my plate in the dishwasher, I proceed to my room, close the door, and lie down in bed.  I don't feel like coming out.  I prefer being shut off from the world behind these walls.  What can I say, they're comfy.  

I sigh and stared at the ceiling.  Time to contemplate life again, shall we?  Yes, I know I said to myself that I could maybe get along with Vinyl, but when I say 'get along' that means, to me at least, ignore our existences and leave each other alone.  Then, there's no yelling, anger / frustration, or murder involved.  That makes sense, right?

However, I didn't take into account that Vinyl's means of 'getting along' mean 'befriend'.  Those are two completely different words with different meanings.  I can live in a peaceful coexistence with Vinyl so long as she leaves me be.  It shouldn't be that hard.  I do it.  I ignore her completely.  However it's kind of hard when she keeps trying to spark a conversation.

Ugggh...I'm so bored.  Television is boring, there are no books in this damned house adequate enough to read, and the only instrument around here to play are those bloody machines.  It wouldn't hurt to even have a damned harmonica.  At least I, being as talented as I am, can make it sound divine.

A knock came to my door, and I cringe.  "What do you want now?"

"I just wanted to tell you that my manager called and needs me at the studio.  I'll be gone for a bit.  Don't run off or burn the house down, k?"  What does she think I am, five?

"Fine, whatever."

"I'm trusting you, Tavi-"

"Just GO!"  The sound of fading hoofsteps follows.

At least I have the house to myself.  Now I can relax without headbanging music, or annoying unicorns constantly nagging me all day.  Hmmm, what can I do?  There's probably a movie or something on I can watch.  Or maybe I'll just take a walk...later.  The sun is too...sunny and hot.  

Maybe there's something around here to read that isn't a Daring Do book.  Even a magazine will suit for now.  Huh, speak of the devil.  I found a pile of old magazines in a basket next to the couch in the living room.  What do we have here--oh.  Of course, all of these magazines have to do with Vinyl in some way shape or form.  You know, I should read these.  I'm just curious as to what exactly drove her to fame.  If I'm living with my enemy, I might as well get to know her.  Figure out her weaknesses and strengths.

Let's see here, 'Vinyl Scratch: The Diva of Dubstep.' Ew... 'DJ Dubstep'.  No thank you.  'Goddess of Modern Day Music'.  Who comes up with these titles?  What are these magazines anyway?  Insider, Pop Culture, Playcolt--Wait what?!

I...I can't believe this.  Is Vinyl really...is she really this indecent as to star for a porn magazine?  Disgusting.  My curiosity got the best of me, and I opened the magazine.  My blood runs cold.  My memory has just been told.  Right there, printed on flimsy paper, is Vinyl: the centerfold.  I almost hurl.  Thank Faust she's at least wearing something to cover herself.  Though I still lost a lot of respect (which there isn't much to start with anyway) at least she's not revealing herself.

Forget it.  I stuffed the magazine away and picked up a new one.  Here, I'll read this one.  It supposedly tells of her past briefly before she started becoming famous.  

Vinyl Scratch, an average unicorn mare from Baltimare that traveled to Canterlot to make it big.  It never occurred to the young DJ that Canterlot isn't a place where dreams come true, at least not always and without a challenge.  Scratch started out small, table turning her way through small clubs and private events.  

Within the first year of moving to the capital, Scratch was able to make a small living on a tight budget.  At the time, many ponies who attend nightclubs on the days Scratch performs say her performance is adequate.  "Just another generic DJ."  Others say.  "Same old music, different face."

Scratch was able to plateau her fame.  Almost a year went by where she was never able to move up or down the popularity charts.  However, she didn't give up.  She pressed on with this notion of making a genre of music that will be completely different and blow everyponies minds away!

That's when it all started.  The music we all know and love today began it's creation.  Scratch experimented with her turntables and music making computer software like never before.  She tried all sorts of things until one day she perfected it!  A sub-genre of music that focuses more on bass drops and electronic whirls or 'wubs' as the DJ would put it.

Her rise to fame has been set in motion.  The next performance she had at the local nightclub 'NightMares' revolutionized modern music.  Word soon spread of how great the performance was through social media until ponies swarmed the nightclubs she performed at like locust.  

"I didn't expect dubstep to be such a hit."  The DJ said.  "I was just foolin' around one day, made somthin' that sounded cool and decided 'eh, what the hell.'"

Horrid.  Simply horrid.  That's all I have to say about that.  I actually expected more.  Something along the lines of 'How in the name of the all mighty Makers do ponies enjoy this crap' kind of thing.

I'm just so bored right now that I could read anything.  These magazines are the only thing around here, unless I walk to the library.  Hmmm...hot sun...magazines...

I yawn and sit on the couch with the pile of magazines next to me.  Well, here goes nothing.


(\/);,;(\/)


That seems to be the last of them.  Bloody hell, I can't believe I read all of those magazines in one sitting.  A smile crept onto my face as I realize something.  Quiet.  Peace, and quiet.  I was able to do something other than stuff a pillow over my head and attempt to raise the televisions volume to where it is louder than Vinyl's music.  This is...relaxing.  Tranquil even.

I sigh and leaned back further into the couch.  I honestly feel like taking a nap.  It's just so quiet and relaxing.  No ear-bleeding music assaulting my ear-drums, no annoying Vinyl, just...serenity.  I have to enjoy it while it last.  There's no telling when Vinyl's going to--

"I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

--come back...dammit.  Oh and that's not the worse part, she didn't just come home and yell obnoxiously, she came with blaring constructional pornography!

"Check this out, Tavi!  My manager gave me a new sound system!"  From behind the crazed DJ, there is a wagon filled with recording equipment and speakers.  Why they are on and on max volume?  I don't know.

Vinyl then reached her arm over and grabbed me in a half hug.  "This is so awesome!  This new set sounds wayyy better than my old one!  I'm gonna use the crap out of this one!"

Oh no..."Vinyl."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kill you now."

"K."

"...I'm serious."

"Oh...Should I run?"

"That would be wise."

"Scream?"

I shrug.  "Optional."

Quick as lighting, Vinyl is out the door with me following close on her tail while holding a butter knife.






Next Chapter: Chapter IV Estimated time remaining: 9 Hours, 14 Minutes
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