>Octavia quietly set up her cello at her usual spot outside the cafe.
>Ponies buzzed about, accomplishing their chores for the day, seemingly oblivious to the grey earth pony.
>Sighing for what seemed the thousandth time, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to draw the bow across the strings.
>She poured her heart and feelings into her cello each and every day in the hopes that she might move someone.
>In the hopes that someone might take a moment out of their busy lives and stop to listen to her music.
>Occasionally one would throw a bit or two in front of her, and for that she was thankful.
>But what she craved was a true audience.
>Do they give me money out of pity? Am I just another starving artist in their eyes?
>These questions had haunted her for as long as she could remember.
>In the past she had seen some of them roll their eyes as they walked by.
>She had grown a thick skin to it, and tried not to let her despair show.
>But truthfully, these small looks of disdain and disappointment pierced her to the core.
>Fighting back tears, she continued to play, knowing that the ponies would just keep on walking.
>Finally the piece came to its end and she slowly let the bow drop to her side.
>She wanted to open her eyes and see a crowd of ponies looking in awe.
>To know that she had moved someone.
>"I do this every time," she chastised herself.
>But still, opening her eyes never got any easier.
>Steeling herself, she peaked out one eye.
>No one.
>A few lonely bits lay on the ground.
>Not one pony.
>"At least I can eat for a couple days," she thought.
>As she leaned down to gather the bits, she heard an unfamiliar sound.
>Was that... applause?
>The bits all but forgotten, she stood up straight and scanned the area for the source of the sound.
>Octavia started a little as she saw the pony, or rather person, that was clapping.
>Anon was seated at one of the cafe tables with a mug of coffee and some biscuits.
>"Bravo!" he called to her.
>Octavia was dumbfounded.. this had never happened before.
>Without thinking she set her cello down and walked to Anon's table.
>"That was quite beautiful, Octavia," he said once she was seated.
>The two had met before. Anon was something of a celebrity in Equestria, after all.
>"Anon, I... Thank you," she mumbled, too modest to wholeheartedly accept the compliment.
>"I could tell the music had feeling behind it. Like I was hearing a part of you rendered in sound."
>Octavia blushed a little.
>This haphazard conversation had already yielded more praise for her work than her past several years in Ponyville.
>"I.. don't know how to thank you," she replied, slightly blushing. "I try to use the cello to express in music what I can't express with words."
>"And you did a wonderful job," replied Anon.
>He smiled at her, good-naturedly.
>"I'd like to hear more if you're up for it."
>Octavia's heart seemed to jump in her chest at the thought of playing for someone who understood her music.
>In a wave of impulse, she blurted out: "Y-yes! I've already made enough for the next few days.. I can play for you in my studio.. that is, if you have the time?"
>Surprise briefly flashed across Anon's face, but his smile quickly returned.
>"I'd like that."
>For the first time in what seemed like ages, Octavia felt her cheeks lift in a smile too.
>
>The stroll to Octavia's apartment/studio was a quick one, as Anon filled what would have been silence with talk of his favourite music and instruments.
>"I did not know you played, Anon."
>A wistful air seemed to cloud Anon's face for a moment.
>"I..." he paused, "There are many things from my old world that I miss."
>He nudged Octavia playfully.
>"Thankfully, there's no shortage of good music here in Equestria."
>Octavia blushed for the second time that day.
>
>Octavia lived on the top floor of her building in a loft-turned-studio.
>Anon stepped out of his shoes as he entered the room.
>None of the ponies seemed to care as they usually didn't wear shoes on their hooves, but it was an old habit from Earth that was hard to break.
>Anon gazed about, taking the room in.
>It was remarkably well lit, with many windows.
>Sheet music was cast about on the floor, radiating away from a spot with a music stand.
>"That must be where she plays," he thought.
>Octavia fussed about, obviously a little embarrassed by the mess.
>However, there seemed to be a method to the chaos, and she was reluctant to tidy it up.
>Noticing this, Anon piped up: "Lovely room you have here."
>Octavia stopped and looked around too.
>It was messy, but it was home.
>She had spent many long hours here, practicing well into the night to perfect her skills.
>"Thank you," she replied.
>Remembering the reason she had invited Anon over, she moved to her music stand and began to set up her cello.
>Anon walked to her unmade bed.
>"May I?" he asked.
>Octavia nodded emphatically as she flipped through the pages of her music, in search of the perfect piece to play.
>Anon sat down and rested his chin on his palm as he stared at Octavia.
>Her passion, her earnestness in her craft.. it made her beautiful in his eyes.
>Finally she rested her hoof on a sheet of music.
>"This will do it," she thought, and hoped, to herself.
>Anon sat up straight and prepared to listen.
>Octavia closed her eyes then exhaled.
>In one smooth motion she brought the bow to the strings and began to play.
 
https://youtu.be/fhvwZd5Hmyg
 
>The fluid motions of Octavia's body astounded Anon.
>She had found her muse, and it now possessed her, each movement perfectly timed and practiced.
>The shy pony he had sat with at the cafe melted away, replaced by a pony poised with divine purpose.
>Each note an unspoken thought, brought to the light of day through her music.
>As the piece came to its end, she let out a deep sigh and slowly opened her eyes.
>Anon stared at her in awe.
>For a moment the two just looked at each other, then Anon began to clap.
>"That was truly amazing."
>Octavia's heart felt like it would burst.
>It was as though all the hours of practice, all the suffering alone, had suddenly been validated.
>She was scared to breathe, fearful it might bring this moment to an end.
>She half-walked, half-staggered to the bed and plopped down beside Anon.
>She had put everything she had into that piece.
>She was exhausted.
>Without hesitation she leaned against Anon and closed her eyes.
>Anon stifled a gasp in his throat, and looked at Octavia.
>He felt her short warm breaths on his arm, and her slow rhythmic breathing.
>He slowly slid his arm around her and drew her in close.
>Time lost its meaning for Anon.
>They could have sat like that for minutes, or hours, or days.
>He couldn't tell, and he didn't care.
>It seemed like they had reached an understanding.
>That years of hurt and sorrow had been broached in the few minutes of Octavia's playing.
>Eventually Octavia stirred and looked up at Anon.
>He gazed into her beautiful violet eyes.
>She batted her luscious eyelashes at him and smiled.
>Anon gently took her hoof in his hand and squeezed it.
>She winced a little and he looked down.
>Her hooves looked like they were throbbing.
>"Do they hurt?" he asked with concern.
>She lowered her gaze and nodded.
>"I'm used to it. From so much practice," she replied sheepishly.
>Anon lifted one of her hooves and gently began to massage it with his fingers.
>She closed her eyes and leaned back against him.
>He continued to lightly knead the stress from her hooves.
>She rubbed her cheek against his arm then looked up.
>"I'd like to lie down, Anon."
>Before Anon could grasp what had just been said, Octavia pulled him down beside her.
>The two again locked eyes.
>Without looking away, Octavia guided Anon's hand to her chest.
>Anon slid his hand along the contours of her body, and traced his finger along her cutie mark.
>She flinched and a tiny gasp left her lips.
>Brushing her mane aside, Anon cupped her head against his chest.
>She burrowed into him and the two held each other, their bodies dissolving as they breathed as one.
>She hesitated for a moment then quickly kissed him on the neck.
>"Thank you, Anon," she whispered.
>Anon guided a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his.
>Then, he pressed his lips against hers and kissed her.
>Nothing needed to be said.
>The moment was perfect.
>And in that moment, Octavia felt for the first time in her life that she was loved.
>That she was understood.
>That her music had moved someone.