My Roommate Is a Lycan

by Dennis the Menace

Chapters

The Part Where She Mauls You

The Everfree Forest.

Dark, dangerous, deadly. Forbidden territory for ponies, if you couldn't tell by the horrific howling of the wildlife creatures that screamed "evil". Crickets chirped, frogs croaked, owls hooted, birds cawed, wolves howled, and bats...made whatever sound they made. The only problem was that I couldn't tell what animal it was. They all screamed at me at the same time, the sound slowly building into a hideous cacophony as my heart raced faster and faster. I kept looking around, my head spinning like a record on a set as I tried to figure out where that vicious manticore was so that I didn't get mauled.

I shook my head, growling. I was just psyching myself out.

Each step on the dirt path took me deeper and deeper into the forest, thick underbrush snaking around my legs. I shook them off nervously. Somewhere along the path that I'd been walking on turned into something else. My hooves fell into something wet and slimy, and I didn't want to think, to know what I was trotting in.

Pretend it's ice cream. Chocolate ice cream that...moves?

I ran faster and faster, engulfing myself in the darkness. At least here, I could pretend that if I remained motionless, I would be invisible.

"If I can't see them they can't see me." I shivered, repeating the words like a mantra. "If I can't see them they can't see me."

Octavia must have been suicidal. She just walked in, for Luna's sake! Like she was taking a stroll, or something.

Whose great idea was this? Oh, right, mine.

I lit my horn.

Six months since we've moved in together, and she was still keeping secrets from me. Octavia was always taking these sporadic, one-day vacations at a random time every month. It was never the same day either! Who does that? Taking a one-day vacation is like cranking the bass up to ten and stopping just before eleven. It was like having a sandwich and eating the bread. It was like dumping somepony after first base after you figured out they were a bad kisser. Nopony does that.

At least, nopony like Octavia does.

I thought back to when we first met. To when I first harbored a crush for her. Something about music, something with lots of cider, something about moving in together because we were both poor mares living in Canterlot.

In the back of mind I considered that there had been a reasonable explanation for all this as I caught the midnight train to Ponyville. That Octavia was the kind of mare who took her vacation one day at a time. Maybe she was sneaking off to see a mysterious lover that I'd promptly beat the living snot out of because I had dibs on her first. All of that jumped out of a window once we headed into the Everfree.

My heart fluttered slightly as I thought of her, or maybe because I saw something shifting in the bushes. I don't know what made me so crazy about her; then I realized everything about her made me crazy. The way she bit her lip when she got all huffy, that superior smirk with her half-lidded mulberry eyes, her thick black silky hair that smelled like lavender (I don't smell her hair, you creeps. I snuck into her bathroom and stole her shampoo). Or maybe it was the accent. Her sexy, posh accent that made even my name sound sexy to my ears.

Definitely.

Or maybe it was the sheer confidence that radiated from her, in contrast to how...shy I was. DJ-Pon3 was just an act, the overinflated ego, I mean. It's all in good fun, but I'd like to think I'm a little more down-to-earth than that. I'd imagine that rowdy disc jockey act would get old after a while.

"O-Octy?"

I figured that if I called her using her nickname that she despised but secretly thought was endearing, she'd say something back.

"'Tavi?"

That was her second nickname, which she also hated but secretly liked.

I spotted a faint glow in the tunnel of darkness I'd been venturing through and ran forward, stumbling into a small clearing, the full moon in view and a particularly eerie statue of Nightmare Moon, of all things in the center of it, with Octavia beneath it.

I heard a howl. I scrambled away from the bushes I'd been hiding in, my heart skipping a beat. Where had that howl come from? I sidled up behind the statue, poking my head out from around the corner and watching Octavia from up close.

Suddenly, as if on cue as the fog and mist began to part in the sky, revealing Luna's full moon high in the sky. Octavia snorted, dipping her head low, as if she was basking in the moonlight.

What happened next, I'll never forget.

I saw Octavia's form...twist, the shadows almost swarming her body. Her hooves dug into the ground as her legs went stiff, quivering and shaking as she arched her body, growling, hissing, spitting, her voice growing more and more deep. She let loose another hair-raising howl as her coat grew longer and thicker, darkening until her soft gray coat had turned nearly black. She whipped her frazzled mane around, and my breath hitched. A set of vicious, long canines hung from her mouth, her eyes no longer a soft purple but now bloodshot, yellow, and feral. My blood chilled. I sweat bullets, trying to make myself as scarce as possible as I thought she'd seen me. Her transformation continued. Her snout grew more canine, narrower, and claws pricked at her hooves. Octavia—no, not Octavia—it let out a final roar, throwing its head back, its transformation complete.

No...No! That's not possible!

Part of me wanted to think that this was some elaborate Nightmare Night prank. But then I remembered that Nightmare Night was nearly six months ago, when we'd moved in together. Decorations were serious business. She'd put up decorations on the first and taken them off at the end of the month at exactly 12 o' clock midnight because she was so OCD.

Another part of me thought that I must have taken something at the nightclub, maybe something I shouldn't have that was making me hallucinate. Yeah, that makes sense. All of this was a hallucination!

If only things were that simple.

I panicked. I didn't know what to do. What the hay are you supposed to do? I began slowly backing away, until one of my hooves trampled upon a stick, snapping it. In that moment my heart stopped. A growl. Then I ran. I bolted. I made like a tree, and ran for so long, my terror blocking out of the sound of it yawning at my hooves, ready to rip me to pieces with its claws. Tears streamed from my eyes (because of the wind in my face). Not that I was crying, or anything. I was too tough to cry.

I was crying.

Because my roommate was a monster.

I wasn't stupid. I wasn't going to be the plucky heroine of some bad fanfiction holding the idiot ball, oh no. Not me. I knew better than to stay there at the apartment, because there's just something wrong about having a bloodthirsty supernatural creature as your roommate, don't you think? And I certainly wasn't having any ideas about saving the world from the forces of darkness or something stupid like that.

I'd practically begged Lyra to let me stay at her house until the morning, not particularly in the mood to answer the barrage of questions she had thrown at me, some of which included, "What are you even doing in Ponyville at this hour?"

Bless her minty soul.

I didn't sleep well for those seven brief hours. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt those warm blankets begin to tighten around me. I saw Octavia transforming, lunging at me with wild eyes, ready to tear into me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell somebody, anybody. Maybe that Twilight Sparkle, the Royal Guard, Equestria Daily, somepony who would listen. But no pony would believe me. Of that, I was sure of. What proof did I have?

The train hadn't even reached the station and I was already jumping off, practically teleporting myself back into our cozy studio apartment.

I bucked open the door and slammed it shut, locking it twice with a pant.

Cramped, smelly, cozy. Straight ahead was the balcony, where Octavia would spent her mornings outside practicing her cello. To the left was where Octavia made dinner and where I'd burn things and set stuff on fire. To the right was Octavia's room and my room, where sometimes at night I'd press my ear up against the wall and hear her snoring softly too.

I shook my head. No time to get all sentimental.

"Remember, Vinyl. Only the essentials," I said aloud, as if saying it would change the fact that I had the attention span of a goldfish. "I'll take that, and that, and that..."

By the time I'd packed everything I'd owned, I was ready to hit the streets. My duffel bag, my suitcase, everything. I hefted all three with my magic, a blue magical glow wrapping around it.

Just as I took that first step to salvation, the door opened and slammed into my muzzle. I fell back with a cry, my magic disrupted and dropping all of my bags. With dizzy eyes I looked up from my prone position, blowing my blue bangs from my face. I saw her, looking down at me, a scarf thrown around her neck and that smirk on her face.

"Hello, Vinyl."

The Part Where She Cries

At some point in your life you realize that you can't always be who you are 24/7. There's a time and a place for everything. You don't think about it, you just do it. And so you begin to have different personalities that are kind of you, but not really you at the same time. You have a different you for when you're with your best friends, your coworkers, your family. You take that to an extreme and you get split personalities. And then you check yourself into the nearest hospital, 'cause you're a nut. I'm not a nut, though.

DJ-Pon3 was something like that. She was the better me. The alter ego everypony loved. When the sunglasses came on, the party was on. She was everything Vinyl Scratch wasn't. She was hot and exciting and liked to be dangerous. DJ-Pon3 was loud and proud and loved a crowd. She was rude and crude and had attitude!

And Vinyl Scratch...just wasn't any of those things.

I think everypony goes through that sort of stage in their high school years. Those were the worst years, when everypony isn't really sure who they are even though they have a Cutie Mark stamped on their flank. We were all blindly fumbling around with our futures, and like many, trying to figure out our identity. Me, I was experimenting with new looks. Did you know my hair used to be white? Not even silver, just white, and curly. My head used to look like a cotton ball. I went to a stylist and never went back. I found my trademark shades, and DJ-Pon3 was born.

Of all times I was reminiscing on my awkward high school years. Maybe it was my life flashing before my eyes. I tried thinking of the good times, like when I met Octavia at that classical concert I attended. Not because I was forced to go, but because I wanted to go, not because of the music or anything, but of the picture of Octavia standing there in the spotlight on that glossy flyer, advertising for an event taking place at exactly seven thirty on a Sunday evening at Blueblood Hall where she would have a solo. That was six months ago on an October night, just before that Grand Galloping Gala escapade that she warned me never to speak of again.

I remembered how starstruck I'd been, me, as Vinyl Scratch. DJ-Pon3 only got starstruck when she looked in the mirror because she's so awesome. I'd walked straight up to her after the performance, not knowing what to make of myself as she put away her instrument. I just watched, and didn't say a word. She didn't even notice me, but maybe that was because her backside was facing toward me. A wonderful sight, really.

Eventually she must have noticed me. She turned around and pulled a double-take. She cocked her head, giving me a strange look.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

She was talking to me. I didn't know what to say, what to do. DJ-Pon3 would have sidled right up next to the mare and talked dirty and would ask her out for drinks. Vinyl Scratch just gulped.

"I uh. I'm Vinyl Scratch," I said quietly.

We were the only ones in the concert hall, a massive building. The acoustics made my voice echo.

"Who?"

I sighed and put on my glasses, putting on a wicked grin.

Octavia stared, squinting, cocking her head again. "Oh. Oh! DJ-Pon3!"

I took them off again, wiping them on my coat. "That's me," I giggled. "Hi. Um. Great performance."

"Thank you. I never pegged you as a connoisseur of classical."

I looked around. "Have we met before?"

The earth pony smirked and shook her head. "We're all in a little circle of celebrities, after all. I read about you in an interview in Pony magazine."

I remembered that interview. I think I sat upside down for that one.

"Oh." I kicked a hoof, feeling more stupid than I ever could on any illicit substances. "So. C-Could I have an...autograph?"

Octavia almost seemed taken aback. "An autograph?"

Had I violated some unspoken rule between classical ponies? Did I insult her?

"Why, I don't think anypony has ever asked for my autograph before!" she remarked, her eyes lighting up in such a way that almost made her seem giddy. "Of course you can!"

I almost skipped over in a blur of white, my face growing warm as I got close.

"Do you have anything for me to sign?"

I paused, looking around. I only had a saddlebag on and a pair of headphones.

"Um...here!" I nearly threw my headphones at her. "These are my favorite."

Octavia bit the end of her Sharpie in her mouth, her face scrunching up in such a way that I nearly wanted to hug her and hold her. She wrote in a swirly, cursive font and dotted the i in her name with a heart.

It was weird. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but I wanted to be there with her.

"Ah, Pon3?" She caught herself. "I mean, Vinyl?"

I turned around uneasily.

"Would you like to go get some drinks?"

"Hello, Vinyl."

My mind warped her innocuous expression into a malicious look of pure evil. She towered over me, licking her lips, ready to make a meal out of me, or worse. That was definitely the look that made you go, "uh-oh", or in some cases, "oh yes", depending on whether or not you were in the bedroom.

"Vinyl, what are you doing?"

The entire time I looked at her, my jaw was agape. I closed my mouth. I couldn't help myself. I paled, my coat going even whiter than I normally was. I scrambled away.

"What is the matter with you?"

I stammered a bit, feeling myself shrink. My head whirled around. Where were my glasses? I felt like she was watching my every move that I made. I needed something to help me hide, to shield me from her eyes, to make me be DJ-Pon3 for just a little longer so I could get away.

Last night!

What did I do last night? I had my sunglasses on last night while I was walking through the Everfree. And then it got dark, so I put them on my horn, and—

They fell off while I was running away with my tail between my legs. I felt a little disappointed. They were my favorite pair. But I could mourn later. Octavia was waiting. I thought of a typical DJ-Pon3 response. I cracked a grin. I laughed and did all the things DJ-Pon3 would say and do even though my magenta eyes said something else.

"Heck, nothin' at all, 'Tavi!" I watched her scrunch her nose, about to insist that her name was Octavia. "Just lost my glasses. That's all, no biggie!" I smiled wide, taking a step back.

She bit at her scarf and threw it on the couch. "Well, that's a shame. I'm sure you have a dozen other pairs. Are you...going somewhere?"

She stepped into the foyer. I took another step back. I levitated my bags, bundling them altogether as my mind worked furiously to think of an escape plan. The fire escape was a viable solution. If I had line of sight and just enough magic I could teleport up to the rooftop.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah!" Was it me, or was it hot? "Got a call to Ponyville for a venue. You know, those ponies, they love DJ-Pon3! Short notice kind of thing, so I better just be on my way—"

Octavia thrust a hoof out in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Now now, Vinyl. It's the afternoon."

"You're...right! It's the afternoon," I laughed, knocking myself on the head, "and that means I should get on the train ASAP, right?"

I sidestepped her. She sidestepped, directly in front of me.

"Um, Octy, could you move?"

"You should have lunch. You look awfully pale. Are you sick?"

Her concern for me would have made my heart soar, if it weren't trying to burst out of my chest. There was a time when I would have loved any sort of touch from her, a gentle touch on the leg, maybe a brush up against the side. It made me feel fuzzy inside, light.

She placed a hoof on my head. I went stiff, waiting for the moment she'd claw my face off.

"So, how was your one-day vacation to Ponyville?"

Octavia narrowed her eyes. "I never told you I was going to Ponyville."

That feeling that you get when you realize that nothing was going to plan and everything that could go wrong was about to go wrong dawned on me. Suddenly, everything felt heavy. I felt like I wanted to sink into the ground as I crouched, casting my eyes down, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I stepped away, trying to make myself smaller as I moved towards the door in the cramped hall.

"L-Lucky guess?" I rasped, moving away.

Octavia reached into her saddlebags, dropping a pair of distinct black-framed purple sunglasses that clipped onto the nose onto the floor. It fell with a clatter, bouncing and skidding. I looked down. I looked up.

She'd teleported across the room in a single bound, standing only inches away with the darkest look on her face. I screamed and fell back onto my haunches, scrambling away until she grabbed my tail in her mouth and yanked me back. She did not look happy.

"What did you see?"

I swallowed a lungful of air, nearly sobbing as I cowered. "I-I didn't see a-anything!"

Octavia strode up. "Do not lie to me, Vinyl."

"I didn't!"

"Your glasses were in the Everfree Forest. Did you follow me? Did somepony follow you?"

"Y-Yes, no! I mean..." I gulped.

"What did you see?" she asked, incredibly calm, her tone level.

That wasn't good. When somepony is supposed to be mad and they're calm, oh, that is never good.

"Please don't hurt me," I whispered, my back against the wall, teary-eyed and horrified. "Please...I won't tell anyone..."

"What. Did. You. See?"

"Everything!"

I cringed, closing my eyes. I waited. One minute passed. Then two.

Don't look, don't look, don't look.

I looked anyways. Octavia was just standing there, a faraway, distant look in her eyes, her mouth open. Shellshock. Her eyes were glassy. She fell back onto her flanks, her breathing suddenly much more erratic, suddenly so much more shaky and unlike her. I'd never seen her cry. I used to think that Octavia was a robot. I used to think that the only emotions she ever expressed were irritation and boredom.

And now she was crying.

"It was supposed to be a secret Vinyl!" she sniffed, stomping a hoof for emphasis. It left a dent in the wooden floor. "You weren't supposed to know! Nopony was supposed to know!"

I didn't do so much as even move closer.

"Why couldn't you just mind your own business?"

I tried to think why I really had chased after her like that. Maybe it was to satiate my curiosity. But really, what had driven me? Jealousy, maybe, for some imaginary lover.

"I'm...sorry."

I took one step. She wiped at her face, a bit red and her eyes a bit bleary. I hesitated, and moved over, and did something I never thought I would be able to do.

"You're so...different."

I perked, looking up from my soda. "What?"

The bar was kind of small, a bit "charmingly rustic", a little hole in the wall with only one laminated wooden bar and a few bar stools that weren't all that comfortable and had some tears in the cushioning. The only pony that was there besides us was the bartender, who seemed like he knew Octavia personally. I never pegged her for a drinker, but then again I'd only just met her and heard little tidbits about her from hearsay and a few magazine articles.

"I mean, I expected you to order some hard cider, or maybe a cocktail."

"Oh." I downed my lemon soda. "I guess. Why'd you think that?"

"In your interview. You said you liked mixing hard liquor with...party favors," Octavia said, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"I did? Oh." I cast a glance to the side. "I don't really do any of that stuff."

"Really?"

"It was a joke," I said, just to end the topic.

"And you're...so much less talkative."

"Yeah," I grinned. I stopped smiling and shrunk down again, hiding behind my bangs.

"So...your parents are...Hoity Toity and Photo Finish?"

I nodded. "Yeah. That's right."

"I've met them before," she told me. "One of their little fashion shoots. I suppose that's where your sense of fashion comes from, doesn't it?"

That made me laugh, so I did. Just not too hard, because I didn't want to look weird.

"And your parents are from Ponyville?"

Octavia looked a little embarrassed. "Yes."

And that was all she was going to say about that. It was a little awkward for a bit. I was so bad with having a conversation. I thought about bringing up the topic of music, but she beat me to it.

"So," she cleared her throat, "what did you think of the performance?"

In all honesty I hadn't been listening. I was too busy watching her play on stage, a single spotlight on her as her bow drew itself slowly across her cello.

"It was wicked."

Octavia frowned. "You didn't like it?"

"No, no! I-I loved it! I loved it."

"Oh! Ha! 'Wicked', must mean good, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "You were beautiful." I smiled. My eyes widened.

By the time I realized what I'd said it was too late. I clamped a hoof over my mouth and resigned myself to taking a nice long swig until I practically emptied the can until I choked on the drink. I coughed and wheezed, and Octavia gave me some hard pats on my back.

"Goodness, are you alright?"

I gazed at her dreamily. "Uh-huh. Just great. Um. I mean to say that your song was beautiful."

"Pardon?"

"Your song. It was beautiful. Not you." I groaned again. "Not that you're...not beautiful! You're beautiful, but I didn't mean it like that."

She gave me a sly look, making me flush even more.

"I mean I didn't mean that I was saying it like I was into mares," I stammered, tripping over my words. "Because you're beautiful. Just not like that."

"Thank you?"

"Um. Yeah."

Kill me now.

But I didn't die. Our conversation went on and Octavia pretended I hadn't said what I said. Even before she left, she said,

"Let's hang out again, Vinyl."

"Okay!"

She gave me a goodbye hug. I went still as a statue as she leaned in and hugged me.

I held her close, encircling my legs around her, at first gingerly, like she was made out of glass and she would break if I squeezed her too hard. I loved the way her coat felt against mine. I loved the way she smelled like lavender perfume.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I didn't mean it."

"Oh..." She sniffed. "Oh Vinyl!" She threw her arms around me in a bear hug and I almost cried out because I thought she was going to strangle me. "I'm a monster!"

"No you're not!" I blurted.

"Yes, yes I am!"

"No, you're not. You're my best friend," I told her.

She pushed me away. I screamed as she clamped her clawed hooves over my mouth.

"Is this what you call a pony?" it growled.

I whimpered at the sight of the transformed creature. Not it. Octavia. It was still Octavia, under all of that fur and fang.

"Promise me, Vinyl, you won't tell a soul?"

"I won't."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinkie promise," Octavia said.

"Huh?"

"Cross your heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in your eye," she said, going through a series of archaic motions I'd never even seen before.

I repeated them slowly. "Cross my...heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake...in my eye?" I winched, rubbing at my eye that I'd just poked. "Ow."

That finally brought a big toothy smile to her face.

The Part Where She Eats You

"Octavia...what are you?"

She couldn't look me in the eye. We both sat on opposite ends of the room, her on the couch and me on a lounger, still not too comfortable. It gave me a chance to study her new form up close. I saw her hooves, shaped more like paws than anything now, sets of four claws hidden, ready to unleash and shred whoever had the misfortune to be her prey. I saw her sharp teeth, poking out of her mouth like fangs, sharp enough to tear flesh. Her coat was thicker, longer, and much softer. Muscle rippled underneath. Her mane and tail had also grown longer, and much more disheveled. Her ears were much more attentive, reacting to sound with twitches and perks. And of course, she also had the most adorable nose on her snout!

"A lycanequus," she growled.

It wasn't a mean kind of growl, it was just how she talked.

"Half-wolf," Octavia choked. "Half-pony."

"Okay."

Her canine ears perked. "Okay?"

"Yeah," I swallowed. "Okay. You're sitting there, aren't you? You're real." I traced a hoof across the seat awkwardly. "I just can't believe it's real."

"Neither can I," Octavia rumbled.

"So...how?"

"How what?"

"Are your parents lycans? Are you a descendant from a long lineage of lycans?"

"W-What? No!" she barked, laughing. "No! My parents aren't lycans. Just me."

"So what happened?" I suddenly blurted, quieting down. "I mean, if you want to tell me. You don't have to."

She shook her head. "I'll tell you." She took a deep, shuddering breath, as if she was telling this story for the first time to anypony. "I was born in Ponyville, yes?"

"Yeah. You told me."

"Well, when I was...seventeen, I-I... was so stupid! I went into the Everfree Forest." Her claws dug into the couch as her lips trembled. She hunched her body. "I don't even remember why. I think it was a stupid dare. I..." She sniffed.

I didn't want to approach her. So I stayed quiet.

"I remember it like it was yesterday. I had slept underneath the statue of Nightmare Moon and...it..."

"It's okay."

"It attacked me."

"What?"

"What do you think?!" she wailed, wiping at her face. "It b-bit me! A-And I ran away, and I went to Ponyville Hospital...I...they patched me up, made sure I didn't get rabies." She sniffed, laughing a little. "I remember how mad my parents were. Mum nearly had a heart attack when she saw me all bandaged up. And that was that."

Octavia paused, taking a moment to compose herself. Her face went dark.

"A few days later, on the night of a full moon, I changed. The very first time, I changed into...this," she spat, sounding disgusted with herself. "I woke up later in the Everfree again, only this time I had...blood all over my face and hooves."

"I'm...sorry."

"I couldn't tell anypony! I was so scared, and I didn't know what to do! S-So I kept going to the Everfree every full moon, just to make sure I didn't hurt anypony."

"So how come you're still wolfy?"

She fixed me with a glare. "I can change whenever I want. But on full moons, I have no choice." She sighed. "Vinyl, how did you notice?"

"Well, it's kind of hard not to notice that your roommate is scratching like she's got fleas," I snapped.

Octavia sat next to me on the couch, content and calm to study her music sheets on the coffee table in front of us. It was unofficially "quiet time" in the Octavia/Vinyl Scratch residence, where we simply sat in silence, working on our own little projects. Me, I had my signed headphones around my ears, a DJ set in front of me. All was calm and all was right in the world, until...

"Octy, what the hay are you doing?"

Octavia kicked her hind leg furiously at her neck, scratching like she had ants in her pants. Or fleas.

"N-Nothing!"

Two weeks later, she left for her vacation.

"Did I really do that?"

"Yes. And you wagged your tail everywhere you went."

Octavia looked positively giddy as she skipped across the streets of Canterlot. Her long, silky tail bobbing up and down, swishing side to side, a pair of saddlebags on her back. I trailed after her, gazing at her soft, firm, squeezable...

...new pillows that she just bought!

Sickos.

"Octy, are you wagging your tail?"

She stopped, laughing nervously. "Of course not! Don't be ridiculous."

Still, her tail continued to wag, as if she had no control. She stomped a hoof on her tail, making sure it didn't move, giving me an extra cheesy grin with a side order of macaroni and cheese and nachos.

"Or that time you started drooling at that restaurant?"

"Okay, okay, I get it! So I was acting a little strange. But that doesn't explain how you figured out I was...this."

"You know me, I'm—"

Octavia suddenly coughed. "—stupid!" She noticed my glare and flicked her eyes back and forth.

I glowered at her. "I'm observant. Not to mention you're an awful liar—"

"Hey!" she barked.

"We've been together, err, living together for six months. You, you're always going to work from eight to five and me, I'm gone from seven to four. You're sleeping when I get home, and I'm sleeping when you get home. We only see each other when we eat. You're eating dinner when I'm eating breakfast. So I did the math," I counted on my hoof, "for the past six months, we've only seen each other forty-eight days, now that I think about it even more, only on the weekends when we go out and do stuff. And sometimes we don't even feel like getting up on the weekends and we both kind of just sleep or do our own thing!"

"You did math?"

Her being in her furry state didn't stop me from punching her playfully. "It's funny. Six months and we still barely know anything about each other."

"We work too much," she admitted.

"What do you even do from eight to five on weekdays?"

Octavia huffed. "Vinyl, we have jobs every day! Almost everyday! Weddings and—and royal parties, and birthday parties! And when we aren't going to an after party we're rehearsing every day! And concerts," she blushed, "well, we haven't had too many of those."

"You mean 'cause of the Grand Gallop—"

She clamped her hooves over my mouth. "I thought we agreed never to speak of that again."

"Well, I mean, we know a little about each other. I know you were born in Ponyville. And you went to Celestia's School for Gifted Musicians in Canterlot on a scholarship."

Octavia traced a hoof across the cushion sheepishly. "And I know you were born here, and your parents are Hoity Toity and Photo Finish, and you...dropped out of Celestia's School for Gifted Musicians because you hated playing the..."

"Piano," I grumbled. "You like...classical music."

"And you like," Octavia paused, "whatever that is."

"Hey!"

"You also have a large collection of sunglasses," she added, "still growing. And you have lots of vinyls too."

I thought for a bit. "Um, well, you told me you really hated mushrooms."

"You secretly can't stand drinking alcohol," she told me.

"I told you that?"

"A long time ago, I recall."

"Well, you talk in your sleep!" I said.

She paused. "I do?" She huffed. "Well you snore. Really loudly, I might add."

"And you take a really long time in the shower!" I shot back.

"Because I have to deal with all this fur!" she cried, practically nose and nose with me.

We snorted. We laughed and shoved each other.

"You had a huge crush on your pianist, Frederic Horseshoepin," I teased.

She cocked her head. "I never told you that."

"Oh I read your diar—"

"COME BACK HERE VINYL SCRATCH!"

"HELP! HELP! MY ROOMMATE'S A—"

She tackled me, sending me flying clear across the room. The living room was in complete disarray, with cushions torn and lamps knocked over. She and I rolled a few feet before she came out on top, looking positively ferocious.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I wailed.

"YOU READ MY DIARY!" she howled. She narrowed her wolfish eyes. "There's only one thing left to do now."

Meep.

"Read your diary!" she hollered.

My eyes widened. My pupils shrank. Oh no no no no. She could not see my diary! There were very secret, dangerous, secret things that nopony could see except me on the last page! Mainly my very steamy fantasies of Octavia and I making music (if you get my drift) and our names in hearts!

So I'm a sissy. And a lesbian deep inside the closet!

"Octy, NO!"

"Look what I've got!" she sang, my black book between her teeth. "Time to see what secrets Vinyl Scratch has been hiding!"

I charged her, biting and yanking the book away. Nearly making my desperate escape, she yanked my tail and pulled me back.

I opened the book and tore out a page, shoving it in my mouth.

"What was that?" she hissed, pouncing on me.

I swallowed, putting on a big grin. "N-Nothing."

"Are you afraid of me, Vinyl?"

After a bit of rearranging and reading out of my diary, which Octavia found to be incredibly dry, seeing as I was savvy enough to fill a bunch of pages with the words "wub" written over and over again as a deterrent to any snoopers!

Hah! I'm a genius.

"No," I lied. "You're still Octavia, aren't you?"

"Please don't lie to me, Vinyl. I hate it."

"...Yes. You do. A little. Not a lot. You're just a bit...intimidating."

Even the way she moved had changed. In a single bound, she leapt off the couch, slinking toward me rather quickly. It was enough to make me flinch a bit. In a show of friendliness, I scooted toward her on the couch, trying to put on a brave face and a smile. She smiled back, showing off her rows of teeth.

"Eheh."

Octavia slumped, bowing her head slightly. "I'm afraid, Vinyl," she admitted. "My cravings are getting stronger! Sometimes I feel like I can't even control my own body!"

"That's called puberty."

She didn't groan or even get mad at me for cracking a joke. "I don't want to lose myself."

I hugged her again. "I'll help you."

"You will?"

"Sure! You're my best friend." I squeezed her.

My only friend.

But I wanted more. Oh, so much more than that. For some reason her curse made her seem even more attractive. Exotic, even. A part of me buried long ago reminded me how wrong it was to be attracted to a mare, but the forbidden nature of it made it seem even more appealing.

"We can start today!"

"Are you even a trained psychologist?"

"Nope!"

"Alright, I'll say a word, and you say whatever comes to mind."

"Yes." She nodded, scratching at her neck.

I cleared my throat, reading off the list. "Cat."

"Nemesis," she replied with a venomous tone, growling lowly.

I looked at her worriedly, arching an eyebrow. "Squirrel."

Her head suddenly darted off into space as she barked, "Squirrel!" She got her bearings, flushing, and settled herself. "Ahem. Sorry. What was the word?"

"Squirrel."

"Eviscerate."

I scooted a little farther from her. "Bunny."

"Food."

I frowned. Well this isn't going well at all.

"Blood."

"Warm."

"Home."

"Territory."

"Territory," I repeated.

"Marked."

"With?"

Octavia paused. "Never mind."

"DJ-Pon3."

"Obnoxious."

"Vinyl Scratch."

She leaned in with a wicked grin.

"Eat."

"Vinyl—"

"GO AWAY!"

My bedroom door was currently barricaded with my bed, my desk, my bookshelf, and just about every conceivable thing that could be used to deter a raging lycan, including socks and dirty laundry.

So maybe I'd overreacted.

"Vinyl, it was just a joke—"

"IT WAS TOO SOON," I cried.

"Too soon?" she huffed. "You've got to be joking." She sighed, and knocked on the door. "Vinyl, please come out. I didn't mean it."

"NO!"

"You know, I could just break down this door if I really wanted to."

"STAY AWAY!" I screamed, brandishing a set of vinyls, ready to slice her to ribbons with them. "I've got Sapphire Shores, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

In the darkness of the night, I sat, unable to close my eyes. Don't you hate that? You try your hardest to go to sleep, but your brain won't let you. There was a burning question in the back of my mind, a question that would plague me in my sleep and in my dreams until it was finally answered. It was a desire, to want to know. I had to know what those cryptic words meant.

What the hay did she mean, "marking her territory?"

The words clicked inside my head.

...

"Oh."

Two past midnight I bucked her bedroom door open and charged in, shaking Octavia awake. She arose drowsily, rubbing at her eyes, her hair a mess.

"Bluh? Huh? Vinyl, w-what is it?"

I smacked her.

"That is DISGUSTING!"

The Part With Neon Lights

I pressed my ear against the thin wall separating us. I heard her snore softly and turn over in her bed. My heart fluttered and I squeezed my pillow, thinking of how awesome it would be to squeeze her like that next to me.

I didn't know how to help Octavia. I wanted to help her with all of my heart as a friend, and maybe even more. But as far as I knew, the only lycans I'd ever heard about were in tacky romance novels and bad horror films. The current trend was vampires anyway. And all those books told me were how to theoretically kill a lycan, which was kind of counterproductive.

So I guess that was that. My roommate was a lycan.

There was a feeling of catharsis (heh, I used a big word) that washed over me. The cat (or dog) was out of the bag. Things would work out. The more I thought about it, nothing was really going to change. Octavia and I would still live our lives. We'd still have jobs. We'd still make music and live for music. It wasn't a big deal, right? So maybe Octavia was bipolar and had a benign, furry side that could potentially shred me to pieces. That's not to say that things wouldn't change, because everything changed now. I'd probably never look at her the same way ever again. Maybe instead of laughing her off when she got mad, I'd get scared, because I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn't afraid.

I always had this sort of girly fantasy of having romantic conversations through the wall. I tapped the wall once, but then shook my head. I couldn't sleep. Five days a week my sleep schedule was all topsy-turvy compared to hers. Now it was Sunday night and the coolest club in Canterlot was closed. I tossed and I turned, trying to make myself comfortable. I let out a groan and tried listening to some music. I grabbed my trademark pair of Pon3 headphones, smiling a little when I saw her autograph. At least that way, she could be with me even when I was at the club.

I sighed dreamily.

Octavia, Octavia, Octavia. It was a beautiful name, belonging to an equally beautiful mare. At first glance, most ponies wouldn't peg me as the thinking type of pony, but sometimes when I had the chance, I would listen to nothing and just think.

The thing on my mind was love.

Most ponies, I think, are attracted to each other for some reason or another, like physical appearances or personality. But I think love is more complicated than that. Not that I was really in love. Or maybe I was, and I didn't know it yet. I was too young for love, too immature.

I tried thinking of the reasons why I liked Octavia.

Sure, we both had a passion for music, but it wasn't that hard to find somepony with the same special talent. In my eyes, Octavia was about on the same level of that supermodel Fleur de Lis, but that was because I was biased. By most standards, Octavia was average in looks. Her personality, well, wasn't very nice. She wasn't the nicest mare around, or all that friendly. She was a bit haughty, a little on the cocky side, but I liked that.

Maybe it was the accent.

Yeah, definitely the accent. I've got the hots for accents like hers. She could say anything and it would sound sexy. Listening to her was like listening to a really good house song with a sick drop that came outta nowhere and bucked you in the face.

"Okay, you definitely need some sleep Vinyl."

But I didn't sleep. Then I got around to thinking about what I was going to do. How long was I going to crush on her? Was I going to pine after her forever, and never know the answer because I was just too scared? Right then and there I made a resolution. I was going to tell Octavia how I felt about her!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. "

I don't know if you know this, but Canterlot is conservative. There were still ponies running around thinking that they were royalty because a long, long time ago, their ancestors were stinking rich and supposedly had royal blood in their veins, like that ass Blueblood. Back then they had something called family values, see. And apparently two mares or two stallions weren't supposed to like each other. These family values also included marrying your cousin.

My parents were kind of old-fashioned. Not too old fashioned, mind you, but the one thing I knew they would never approve of is their daughter being...gay.

And then after I remembered that, I thought of something else. What if Octavia...wasn't gay?

I smacked myself in the face with my pillow.

"Go to sleep!" I told myself.

"Yes, please," I heard a voice mutter.

I frowned. I looked everywhere, and then poked the wall with a thump.

WHAM, WHAM.

"GOING TO SLEEP!" I cried, hiding under my blankets.

I sweated and squirmed. I fidgeted and bounced on my hooves like I had to go really bad.

"Octavia, I just...I don't know how to say this..."

Her eyes were beady, a neutral expression on her face. She just sat there, watching me watching her.

"This is something I've been keeping from you for a...long, long time. But I think that, uh, now since I know about your...other side, I think you have a right to know about my other side."

She stared blankly at me.

"This is really hard for me to say, but Octavia," I swallowed, "The truth is...I think I have a crush on you." I paused. "I'm gay. Well, actually, I think I'm bi. I'm not too sure."

No response.

"Don't look at me like that."

My Octavia plushie flopped over on my bed, letting out a little squeak. Don't even ask where I got it because I'm not going to tell you that I got it from Carousel Boutique!

I groaned, jumping onto my bed.

"That sounds so stupid!"

I held plushie Octavia up and hugged her. It squeaked.

"Why do you have to be so adorable?"

After lazing about a good chunk of the afternoon, I packed my bags and strutted down the street. Actually, I think I sort of shuffled. You know how you can look at somepony and figure out what kind of pony they are just by the way they carry themselves? Canterlot ponies hold their heads a bit too high. DJ-Pon3 would have strutted her stuff down the streets with all the swagger in the world, but sometimes it was too tiring to be Pon3. Vinyl Scratch would trot along with her head held low.

There's this sort of majestic, grand feeling ponies get when they walk around Canterlot. That feeling was lost on me after living there so long, walking those same streets every day. They all started to blend together and look the same. But Club Canterlot was kind of hard to miss, with the lights and all.

Club Canterlot, the coolest club in all of Equestria, was the only place where you could party with Pon3. Everything about it was sleek and smooth. There were no seedy entrances with brick walls to be found here, only a cool, subdued, abstract aesthetic. It was big, not the size of a concert hall, but big enough for an upscale bar that you'd find at five-star restaurants and a glowing dance floor and a stage in the center of it all. On the second floor was the VIP floor for ponies like the Wonderbolts or maybe the Elements of Harmony or just rich ponies in general so that they could look down upon the rest of us.

This stage was my office, if you will. It was a large space with plenty of space for my records and turntables and mixers and a drink or two.

"He-ey there, Pon3!"

I recognized the voice instantly without even having to look. It was low and a bit on the raspy side. I didn't really like people calling me DJ-Pon3 when I wasn't on stage. It's kind of like confusing actors for their characters. It was just an act, a personality. I felt somepony sidle up against my side, bumping their rump against mine. That sort of thing was reserved for friends and, well, partners. Then again, taking a guess as to who it was...

"Hey Neon," I said, unenthused.

Neon Lights or MC W1SH, his stage name. A dork, a dunce, and a douche, and I was his dame. He was a dork because he had absolutely no sense of personal space, a dunce because he could never take a hint, and douche because, well, he dressed like one. He ran the light shows every night as my partner in crime, and occasionally stepped up for songs.

He was practically strangling me as he hooked his leg around my neck. "Ah, Pon3, I think it's gonna be a great night tonight."

"It's Vinyl. And you say that every night."

"I do?" He paused, and then shrugged. "Whatevah! Ay, Scratchie—"

I glared. Nopony called me Scratchie. Ever.

He noticed me giving him a death glare. "—Scratch, how 'bout you and me—"

"No, Neon," I groaned.

"You didn't even gimme a chance to ask!"

"That's 'cause I already know what you're gonna ask."

"What was I gonna ask?" he challenged, leaning in even closer with a huge grin.

I cleared my throat. "You were gonna ask if we could, 'hang aftah the club closes, maybe get sum drinks at da bar and go back to ya place'."

"How you figure that?"

"'Cause you ask me every night," I said.

A long pause. Then,

"I do?"

I slammed my head down on my set. I think I fractured my horn...

He poked me gently. "Aw, lighten up. I'm jus' teasing."

Neon was the sort of guy friend you couldn't stay mad at for too long. Half the stuff that came out of his mouth was all just in good fun.

"Listen, I gotta get ready," I said.

"You 'kay?"

I was this close to snapping at him, but I paused. He sounded genuinely concerned. There was no joke, no thinly veiled insult.

"'m fine," I mumbled, tracing a hoof.

"You're weird."

"Wow, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're a great friend."

Neon paused, just for a second. I was expecting some sort of quip or jab at me. I gazed at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He was still smiling, but then again just because you were smiling on the outside didn't mean you were on the inside. It was the way a pony's eyes lit up that you knew, but at the moment, his black shades covered his expression.

"It's...uh, what I'm here for," he said. "Well, um, anyways, time for Neon Lights to work his magic!" he declared before dashing off.

I sighed. Power, on, headphones, on, shades, on, DJ-Pon3, on.

The clock struck nine.

Party, on.

They swarmed en masse, screaming and shouting.

"My people!" I howled into the microphone, spreading my hooves apart.

A sea of faces pounded their hooves against the floor, shaking the place as they screamed of their approval. Hard electronic beats pounded from the speakers. Flashing strobe lights sparkled through the room. I took a swig from my (root) beer, headbanging hard, my electric blue mane bouncing up and down as I mixed the beats, preparing for a smooth transition to the next song.

"This isn't even house!"

They roared, chanting my name.

"Pony Rock!"

"Yeah! Pony Rock Anthem!"

Soon, those two voices became multiplied, until the entire club was chanting the name of our song. Neon arched his eyebrows, nudging me, giving me a cocky grin.

Neon Lights was quite the rapper, surprisingly. Me, not so much. Pony Rock Anthem had been a little experiment between Neon Lights, Pinkie Pie, and I. I'd worked with Pinkie before on Equestria Gurls, and this one was a little something different. It wasn't exactly my best work. It had a really simple tune with some variation thrown in, but I think what got ponies was the dance that Pinkie came up with.

"C'mon," Neon said.

"We don't have Pinkie Pie," I hissed away from the mic.

"Who cares? Do your DJ-Pon3 thing? Improvise!"

Neon flipped a microphone for himself, and I pressed PLAY.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed one pony not dancing. That miffed me, just a little. Maybe they didn't feel like dancing, or maybe they were tired. Then I noticed that they were looking straight at me. Sharp, golden eyes that seemed to glow locked with mine, never wavering. A dark gray coat, a cobalt blue mane, short and spiky.

It made me uncomfortable. But by the time I'd even bothered to get a second looked, they were already gone.

Weird.

I let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from my brow, poking my sensitive horn. Being a DJ having to fiddle with a bunch of knobs and switches really put a strain on your magic reserves.

"You need help?" Neon asked.

"What a gentlecolt," I began, and then, "No."

"Ya sure?"

I clamped my teeth around a few vinyls, placing them in my bags. "I'm fine. Go home."

The second he walked out that door I regretted my words. Now I was starting to wish he had stayed behind. I don't know about you, but a place normally filled with life being empty made me uneasy. I was all alone in Club Canterlot with only the darkness and shadows to keep me company.

I hummed a little tune, trying to put away my things as fast as possible. I felt somepony prod my shoulder and I froze. I slowly turned my head and jumped out of my skin with a scream, falling onto my back. I looked up and paled.

She grinned, a pair of fangs poking out from her mouth. Her slitted golden eyes flashed, and I could have sworn that I'd seen a forked snake tongue. She tossed her head, blowing her short spiky cobalt mane.