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. Next Chapter: The Part Where She Eats You Estimated time remaining: 19 Minutes