>There's plenty of applause to meet Octavia's performance
>But it's different than the applause Anon would get; his was filled with ponies whistling and cheering, whereas the ponies in front of her now are sobbing
>She's never understood how she can so easily do that
>The lights slowly fade, and the curtain glides shut, leaving her alone in the backstage room
>Anon still isn't there
>Throughout her performance, some small part of Octavia clung desperately to the hope that he would be standing there, watching her, with that same silly expression of awe he always gets when she plays
>But there's no Anon waiting for her, only Andante
>He's beaming proudly at her
>"You did it, Tavi."
"I guess. They all don't seem too happy."
>She gestures at the curtain, and the audience beyond
>Andante shakes his head
>"I'm not talking about them. I spoke to Hoity Toity, one of Canterlot's top promoters, and convinced him to come out here tonight. Let's just say he's... recovering currently."
>Recovering?
>As if to answer her question, a dark gray stallion with aviator shades strolls onto the stage behind Andante
>Octavia can see tear streaks matting the fur on his face, and when he speaks, his voice is watery and weak
>"Ms. Melody, please, let me be the first to say, never in my life have I seen such a magnanimous performance. Your manager here said you were interested in an Equestrian tour, is that correct?"
"Equestria wide tour?"
>For a second, Octavia forgets everything that's happened to her over the past two days
>The prospect is something she's dreamed up since she was a filly
>But memory returns quickly, coloring her excitement with doubt
"I'm... I..."
>Would she ever get to see Anon again?
>Wait, he stood her up, didn't he
>And if Andante's too be believed, he might have been using her the entire time
>Either way, he seems to have abandoned her now
>Is she really going to pass up an opportunity like this, for a stallion who could have been lying to her for months?
>And even if he wasn't lying...
>She likes (liked?) Anon a lot, but...
>This is her life's dream that's being presented to her
>Spreading her music throughout Equestira, making her parents proud...
>A whole year, just her and Andante...
"...I'd be honored."
>Sorry, Anon
 
***************************************************************
 
>Your entire body screams in protest as you limp through the train station
>The moment of clarity you had as you defended yourself from Aryanne is rapidly fading, and you find your thoughts becoming muddy again
>You need to get back to Octavia...
>You need to get back to Octavia...
>You NEED to get back to Octavia...
>Where the hell is Octavia?
>Clumsily, you scan the area for guards, still not finding any
>You have to find your guitar
>Those fucking Nazis took it, you remember that much
>But where'd they put the damn thing
>If they damaged it... you're going to be regretting your decision of not killing Aryanne
>By the time you finally come across the instrument, the moon is already high in the sky, and a light snow has begun to fall
>The flakes lick your skin as you trudge down the street, soothing against your battered frame
>Your guitar case is heavy in your arm, adding more to the pile of aches that seems to constitute your entire existence
>There don't seem to be terribly many ponies out and about, and the only ones you've run across turned tail and fled as soon as they spied you
>Looks like you can't count on any help from them either
>If you could just remember...
>You recall something to do with a concert
>Is Octavia at the concert?
>Yeah, that would make sense...
>But where's the concert?
>And, for that matter, where are you?
>You stop, and try to get your bearings
>Which would be so much easier if the city would stop spinning
>You stagger over to a park bench, trying to keep your balance
>Man, this is making you really dizzy...
>Putting your head in between your thighs, you inhale deeply, trying to get a grip on the situation
>Wait... what situation?
>Octavia... she's somewhere
>You stand up, and stagger forward
>Then the city shifts again, and you head right
>Then left
>Why does everything keep changing?
>The ground rushes up quickly to meet you, jarring your body as you impact it, snowflakes melting under you
>It's pleasantly cool down here, you figure
>Perfect time for a little nap
>No, no naps, you need to find Octavia...
>Your fingers scrabble at the wet ground as you attempt to drag yourself forward
>Dimly, you can see a pony stepping toward you through the darkness
>Oh, cool, they can help you out, right?
>You wave to them, hoping to catch the strange pony's attention
>A pair of white hooves steps into your view
 
***************************************************************
 
>When you come to, the first thing you notice is that you're somewhere warm, and the ground beneath you is soft and silky
>Wait, no, not ground
>You manage to force your eyes open, and they take a minute to adjust to the half-darkness that surrounds you
>A sliver of light filters in through a curtained window in the corner of what appears to be an elegant, though somewhat small, bedroom
>You're lying on a four-poster bed in the middle of said room, a thick wooly blanket wrapped around you
>It's a level of comfort you didn't even know existed
 
>After taking another hour just to sit in bed and recollect your thoughts, you sit up, doing your best to stretch the soreness from your muscles
>Before standing, you gingerly test your knee
>It's still a little painful and stiff, but you can stand
>As you do so, you find that you're dressed only in some stitched boxers; the rest of your clothes have vanished
>Well, modesty be damned, you need to figure out where the hell you are
>You peer out of the bedroom door, finding yourself at the end of a long, carpeted hallway
>The walls are lined on both sides by tapestries
>The whole thing looks familiar, almost like... Fancy's place?
>Oh, please let it be true...
>Honestly, you're due for a little good luck
>You take off down the hall, sprinting with abandon through the place
>As more and more tapestries fly past you, you become increasingly sure that you're in Fancy's mansion
>The certainty increases exponentially when you almost trample the poor stallion
>Fancy and you collide halfway down the hall that leads to his office
>He bounces off you with a loud "I say!" before catching himself
>You begin apologizing frantically, but Fancy waves you away
>"No trouble at all, Anonymous. In fact, it's good to see you up and healthy. You were in quite a dreadful state when I found you."
"Yeah, I know... thanks for that, by the way. I owe you one."
>Fancy dismisses that as well
>"I only did what any decent pony would have done in my position. Though I must say, it's extremely fortunate I chose to attend Ms. Melody's performance that night, and left when I did."
"Octavia? You saw Octavia? How is she? They didn't get her too, did they?"
>Fancy shakes his head
>"No, my boy, she's... well, she's safe at least."
"What else?"
>Fancy adjusts his monocle, having a hard time meeting your eye
>"I think... I think you'd better come with me, my boy. I'll have 'Etta brew us some tea."
 
"What... I... I don't..."
>Your teacup shakes in your hand, and you quickly set it down before any of the liquid can spill
"How... how could she?"
>Fancy shakes his head
>"I'm not sure. That Andante fellow somehow managed to convince security to keep me away from her. He's a crafty one."
>Andante... you knew he'd be behind this
>Christ, you hate that white foppy jackass
>But how could Octavia choose him?
>Did you really mean that little to her?
>You sit across from Fancy inside his study, which is lit only by the light of a single gas lamp
>It'd be cozy, you guess, if your world wasn't currently fracturing around you
"And you're sure about this? She signed the contract?"
>Fancy nods grimly
>"As far as I can tell."
"Well, fuck me..."
>You lean your head into your hands
>You've never been one for tears, but your eyes are definitely wetter than usual
>Fancy reaches across the table, patting you on the back
>"I'm sorry, Anonymous. I'm so, so sorry..."
"What... what now?"
>"I don't know. This is... this is something I honestly didn't foresee. If we really wanted to, we could go to court, and argue the case that Octavia still technically works for us, but..."
>Fancy doesn't need to say it
>Even if you could force Octavia to stay, the fact would remain... she didn't choose you
>Holy fuck, dude
>The sheer weight of that realization slams into you
>She didn't pick you...
>That night on the roof, the day you took her into the city, the night watching movies on her couch...
>None of that's ever going to happen again
>The wetness in your eyes magnifies, and spills over in hot rivulets that run stinging down your face
>Fancy pats you on the back as you sob
>You were so happy, man
>And you swear Octavia was happy too
>Why did she have to throw it away?
>First you get attacked by Nazis, now the only mare you've ever... ever...
>What even was it between you and Octavia?
>Was it just a game to her?
>Fuck, you can't deal with this right now
>By the time your tears finally stop, your face is red and puffy, and your eyes are red and stinging
>Fancy hasn't said anything, but he's kept his hoof at your back, a calm reminder that you're not completely alone
>Even if it feels that way
"Fancy... what do I do?"
>He sighs
>"I don't know, Anonymous. This is something only you can decide. But, if there's anything I can do to help..."
>There's nothing, and both of you know it
"Thanks, Fancy. For everything, really. But right now, I think I'd better get home."
>You stand slowly, feeling slow and detached
>It's not even pain that fills your chest, but a cold, empty numbness
>"I understand. I'll have someone drive you home."
"That's really not neces--"
>Fancy holds up a hoof
>"Anonymous, I insist. I can't have the Trinity getting ahold of you again."
>You nod
"Thanks, Fancy."
 
>The ride back to your apartment is as familiar as it is depressing
>Everything just feels empty
>You remember carrying Octavia back with you, only a few days after the two of you met
>You remember how she looked as she slept on your couch...
>Unbidden, the tears return
>Fortunately, your driver doesn't say a word, just pulls up in front of you apartment, and speeds away as soon as you've stepped out
>The wind bites straight through your jacket, but you hardly feel it
>You can deal with the cold
>The walk up the stairs seems to take forever, and the last few steps seem almost an insurmountable challenge
>You want nothing more than to collapse into your bed, and forget all of this
>At least for a little while
>Your door stands slightly ajar, with a third scar cut into the front
>However, you push past it without much care
>There aren't any more Nazi ponies around
>Your bed welcomes you as you fall into it, even if you're not tired enough to sleep
>Instead, you simply lie there
>Your mind seems unable to form a coherent thought, instead just wallowing in its own black despair
 
>You're not sure how many hours you spend there before the pangs in your stomach become unbearable
>You've only got a few dry apples in your fridge, but you force them down anyway
>They taste like wet cardboard, but the pain your stomach abates for a bit
>Then it's back to lying in your room
>When you finally begin to drift to sleep, your dreams are filled with bitterness and longing
>You wake up with a wet face more than once
>In the darkness of your apartment, you've never felt quite so alone
>The air around you is freezing cold, and you huddle up in a ball in the middle of the mattress
>Halfway between dream and reality, you become convinced that you're the only living being left in Equestria
 
>You awake the next morning feeling like you've just come off a terrible hangover
>Every movement is sluggish, and skin is clammy and cold
>It's surprisingly early in the day, and you're not quite sure what woke you--
>*TAP TAP TAP TAP*
>Oh, well, that'd be it
>The knock sounds again, but you don't budge
>*TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP*
>Christ, why can't they just leave you to die?
>*TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP*
>God that hurts your head...
>*TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP*
>Okay, stop!
>Grunting with the effort, you heave your body out of bed, and stagger to the door, throwing it open
>"Hiya Ano-- ooooh..."
>Derpy's face falls when she gets a look at you
>"Are you, um... are you okay?"
"Whuh, me? Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Jus' fine. Wait, why're you here?"
>"Um, I've got a letter for you."
>She holds out an envelope from behind her back
>You take it to be polite, turning the paper over in your hands
>It looks fancy
>"You weren't home that past few days. Have you... have you been okay, Anon?"
>One of her mismatched eyes peeks up at you, filled with concern
>They other stares through your window, also filled with concern
"I'm... I'm fine Derpy. But thanks for asking."
>Derpy takes your right hand in her hooves
>"Anon, you know... you can talk to me, if you need to."
>She gives you a hopeful little smile
"Yeah. Thanks."
>Her smile seems to fade a little
>"Okay, well... I'll see you tomorrow, I guess?"
"Yeah."
>...
>"Anon?"
"Mm?"
>"Please be careful."
"Right."
>Slowly, Derpy flutters away, pausing once to look over her wither at you
>You wave to her as she goes
>What a nice little mailmare
>Back inside, you flop down on your bed, and open your letter
/Dear Contestant.../
>Contestant?
>Since when were you a contestant?
/We've reviewed the work you've submitted, and congratulations! You've been selected for a slot to perform at the one-and-only Grand Galloping Gala!/
>Oh, right, that
>Funny, you don't remember submitting anything...
>You're sure you'd be absolutely ecstatic under other circumstances
>But right now... who cares?
>Playing without Octavia... is there even any point?
>A voice somewhere in your head reminds you that you played for over a decade before you even knew Octavia
>And while that voice has a point... you don't think you could go back to that, even if you wanted to
>Playing with her was everything you could ever want, and you suppose in a way it's spoiled you
>Nothing will ever be that good again, will it?
>The thought is so fucking bleak that it's a good two hours before you can even finish the letter
 
>Apparently, you've got less than a week until the Gala
>That's if you're even going to attempt to go
>Honestly, you can't see the point
>Somehow, you get the feeling a giant conglomeration of high-society horsies isn't exactly going to lift your spirits
>Still...
>...you bet Octavia would love to perform at the Gala...
>Wait a minute
>The pass doesn't say it's only for one person
>What if you and Octavia both used the slot?
>You could perform together again... even if it's just one last time
>Suddenly, your earlier depression recedes to the back of your thoughts
>There's still a chance
>It's like Fancy said
>You've still got a chance
>You waste no time in sprinting outside, lethargy forgotten
>There's still a chance, there has to still be a chance
>The performance slip lies folded in the pocket of your spare jacket, and you've got a handful of bits to pay a cab
>Fortunately, you mostly remember where Octavia lives
 
>The cabbie speeds across town, and nervous tension begins to take hold of you as you approach your destination
>What are you going to say to her?
>What if... what if she doesn't want to talk?
>What if you're completely wasting your time?
>No, no, you can't think like that
>She'll accept, she has to
>You don't know what you'll do if she doesn't...
>When you finally find Octavia's apartment building, the cabbie is forced to pull in besides a giant carriage, which is currently being loaded with stacks of cardboard boxes
>The source of the boxes seems to be somewhere a few floors up
>In fact, it looks like it's right by Octavia's room
>Wait... is that Octavia's room?
>Panic beginning to flutter in your chest, you leap out from the cab, sprinting up the stairs to her room
>On the way, you pass several ponies hauling down boxes
>You reach the room, finding the door now closed
>You hammer frantically on it
>Why would she be moving?
>Deep back in your skull, you know the answer, but the rest of you refuses to believe it
>Octavia opens the door looking tired and slightly frazzled, but her eyes go wide as dinner plates when she sees you
>"A-Anon!? What are you doing here?"
"What do you think I'm doing here? I want to know why hell you up and abandoned me and Fancy!"
>The anger in your voice causes her to shrink back, but defiance quickly forms on her face in return
>"Me abandoning you? You abandoned me! You left me there alone!"
"I was fucking kidnapped!"
>A pair of mover ponies have stepped onto the landing, and they're staring at the both of you
>Octavia eyes you up and down, noting the various signs of injury that dot your body
>"But... Andante said..."
"Why are you still listening to him!? He's using you!"
>"He is not! You're just jealous because--"
>Octavia notices the mover ponies watching you
>"Ahem, I think it's best if we continue this somewhere else."
"I'm down. Let's go."
>"Now? I was thinking--"
"I'm here now, aren't I? Let's go."
>Octavia glances around her apartment, before sighing
>"Alright. But we're keeping this quick."
>She struts past you, and starts down the stairs, with you following
>Octavia leads you down to ground level, then walks down a city block, turning left into an alleyway
>Turns out, there a miniature garden stuffed between these two buildings
>Well, 'garden' is a bit of a stretch; it's pretty much just a fountain with a single flowerbed, surrounded by a few chairs
>Octavia takes a seat, and you do as well, facing her
>The two of you sit there in tense silence
>"He's not using me."
"Hmph."
>"He's not, Anonymous. You just don't understand him like I do. You're jealous."
"You're right, I am. And why shouldn't I be? I like you a lot, Tavi--"
>"Octavia."
>Ouch
"--Octavia. I really like you, and seeing you chase after this other guy constantly... it fucking hurts, okay? So yeah, I'm jealous. Congratulations."
>You know you're being pouty, and more than a little self-righteous
>But you feel like you've earned the right to be a little childish after being kidnapped and tortured by Nazis
>"I... I see. Anonymous, I'm sorry about this. It's just... I don't know what to think anymore."
"I know the feeling. If... if this really is the decision you want to make, at least tell me... why? Why him?"
>Octavia looks away, uncomfortable
>"I don't know. I've asked myself the same thing."
"Octavia, this guy lies to you. He chases other mares. He only uses you as a tool."
>"He does not! He does not..."
>Octavia's eyes harden, though you can't tell if it's pain or anger she feels
>Whatever it was, it fades as quickly as it came
>Octavia slumps in her chair
>"I... I was going to pick you, Anonymous."
>Octavia suddenly stands, and begins walking out from the alley
>You follow her, and she continues speaking
>"Before I went on to perform, I thought... I thought through my options. And... I picked you."
>Her words bring a feeling you've never experienced before
>Your heart glows knowing she picked you, but aches at the same time at the knowledge that something must have changed
"You did?"
>She nods
>"I really wanted us to play together that night, Anonymous. More than anything, I thought... I thought we could be together. I was going to tell you, and we'd play, and then..."
>Octavia chokes a little
>Your own eyes are starting to water
>The idea she describes is just so beautiful
>But, somehow, your intuition tells you you're never going to experience it
>"But you didn't show up."
"I told you, I was kidnapped. The Trinity caught me, the night I was heading back from Fancy's. They tortured me, they..."
>You shudder a little at the memory
>"I see..."
>Octavia stops in the middle of the sidewalk, her head drooping
>"I'm so sorry, Anon, I didn't... I didn't know..."
>She grits her teeth, and tears begin pouring down her cheeks
>"I threw it all away, didn't I? I threw away our future... oh, Celestia, Anon, I'm so sorry..."
"Woah, hey, easy there..."
>Bending onto one knee, you wrap your arms around the crying pony
>She doesn't lean into your embrace, but she doesn't fight it either
>You notice she's shivering pretty badly, and wrap your winter coat over her body
"There's still a chance, right? Just come back to me and Fancy. We can be together still, Octavia."
>"I... I don't know, Anonymous."
>You pull out of your embrace
"Don't know? What do you mean you don't know?"
>You try your best to keep the anger you currently feel from creeping into your voice
>"I'm leaving Canterlot, remember? I have to tour."
"So? I'll come with! We could tour together!"
>The idea is almost too beautiful to be believed
>"That... that won't work. Andante's my agent officially now, and he won't allow it."
"Who cares what he'll allow? You're your own mare, Octavia. You don't have to listen to him."
>"No, but..."
>Octavia begins leading you back toward her apartment
>The carriage outside pulls away, full of boxes
>"If I don't, I'll... I'll be violating my contract. I can't do that, it'll ruin my career?"
"Your career? Is this about your career?"
>This time, the anger is apparent in your voice
>"Well, partially..."
"Partially? Octavia, what are you hiding from me?"
>"I..."
>Octavia looks around
>"Wait until we get inside."
>She trots up the remainder of the stairs, and ducks into her apartment
>You follow
>The place is mostly stripped bare now; you barely recognize it
>The only remaining furniture is her couch, and a single table
"So... what, then?"
>Octavia glances around the room, nervous
>"I... I should have realized it earlier. Every time a pony's intervened with my career, something... happens to them."
"...'happens?'"
>Octavia nods uneasily
>You can already tell where she's going with this
"How... how bad?"
>She shifts her weight between her hooves
>"Pretty bad... Oh, Celestia, I should have known. I should have known it was him."
"What was him? Octavia, are you saying... are you saying that bastard sent the Trinity after me?"
>Octavia flinches at your tone, but she doesn't deny your words
"And you're dating this guy?"
>"No! I'm not, it's... it's complicated."
"Octavia, this is serious. We need to go to the police, or the royal guard, or..."
>Octavia shakes her head
>"It's not that simple, Anonymous. Andante's subtle, we'll never find a way to link this back to him. In fact, we don't even know if it really was."
"That's right... I guess we don't."
>You sit down on Octavia's couch, grateful at least for the stress it takes of your legs
>She sits down as well, as far from you as possible
"So... what now?"
>"I don't know. Why couldn't things just be simple for once?"
>Octavia begins massaging her temples
"Who's to say they can't be?"
>Octavia looks up at you
>"What do you mean?"
"Who says we have to stay here? We could leave Canterlot, go somewhere, anywhere else. Far from Andante, the Trinity, anything. It could be just you and me, Octavia. Just you and me."
>You lean forward, and take her hoof in your hand
>Octavia pulls away
>"No... we can't. I signed on for this tour, and if I break the contract now... he'll hurt you, Anonymous. Worse than before."
"So? We can get away, Octavia! He can't find us everywhere."
>"No, but... he could find my parents. Or Fancy. Anyone. I've... I've seen him do it before. I wanted to believe it wasn't true, but... oh Celestia, I'm a terrible pony, aren't I?"
>Octavia throws herself against you, shuddering
>"I don't want it to be like this, Anon. I just want us to be happy. I want to be free from him, but... but I can't... I can't break away. I'm too weak. I'm so weak..."
>As gently as you can, you embrace Octavia
>Her body quivers with stress, though she sheds no tears
>You run a hand along her mane, her hair missing its usual sleekness
"No, no you're not. This is the kind of situation no good pony should have to deal with."
>"But I'm not a good pony. I... I let him do those things. I should have known, Anon. I should have known, I should have known..."
>She's shaking even harder now, and you feel her forelegs grabbing tightly at you
>As if she wanted to anchor herself here
>"I can't do this. I can't."
>She just keeps repeating 'I can't' as her shaking slowly dies down, and she lies limply in your grasp, face pressed against your stomach
>You continue stroking her back long after she's fallen still, hand riding the contours of her back as it rises and falls with her breath
>Octavia's clock is packed away with everything else, but you can track time through the gray light seeping through the window
>As the hours pass, snow begins to fall outside
>"Anon..."
"Hmm?"
>"We can't see each other anymore."
>Oof
>You thought she was heading toward this, but a part of you hoped...
"We can, Octavia, please just listen--"
>"No. I'm not going to be weak anymore, Anonymous. I won't let somepony else get hurt because of me any more."
"Octavia, I don't care if I get hurt! Let this guy come at me with whatever he wants! He can send a whole army of Nazis to my door, I don't care."
>You move a hand up to rest behind one of her ears
"But I don't want to lose you. I've felt happy, whole since I met you, in a way I didn't know I could. I can't live the rest of my life knowing I let the one perfect mare I met slip away."
>This time, Octavia does tear up a little
>"I'm sorry, Anon. But I can't. I can't live the rest of my life knowing I'm putting the stallion I lo-- putting you in danger. What kind of life is that? To be a burden, forever?"
"Octavia, I..."
>Of all the times to blank on something to say
"You don't have to do this."
>"I don't, Anonymous. But this is my choice. I'm not going to sit by and let you take the fall for me. This is... this is how it has to be."
>A single look into her eyes lets you know there's no changing Octavia's mind
"Tavi..."
>She doesn't object to the use of her pet name now
"I... I understand. But, maybe, after this tour's over..."
>"He won't let me go, Anon. Not without hurting someone I care about."
"I see. Does that mean... this is our last night together?"
>Octavia nods, the movements of her head rustling your clothes ever so slightly
>"You'll spend it with me, won't you?"
"Of course."
>Octavia shifts her body up onto your chest, resting her cheek against yours
>"Hold me."
>You oblige, wrapping one arm around Octavia's midsection, and resting the other in her mane
>She's so warm
 
>Outside, the snow continues to fall, swirling past the window as the wind whips at the flakes
>Inside, only the dim milky light falls upon you and Octavia as you lie there together, wrapped in each other
>For those few hours, there is no Andante
>There is no Gala, there is no career, no Canterlot promoters, no Trinity...
>Just two lovers clinging together, a brief shelter from the cold
 
>If you could, you'd have said a quick prayer to Luna, hoping for this night to last forever
>But it doesn't
>The first rays of sun poke through the gray sky, illuminating Octavia lying sprawled on top of you
>She's drooled a little on your shirt in her sleep, and her tail is half-curled around your leg
>The sight nearly melts your heart
>Why can't the two of you stay like this?
>Why does this world have to rip the two of your apart so quickly?
>Immediately, a burning hatred not just for Andante, but for everything settles into your gut
>Octavia seems to sense the disturbance, and stirs on your chest, her eyes fluttering open
>"Good morning, Anon."
"Good morning, Tavi."
>Neither of you want to say it, but you both know: your time is almost up
>"Sleep well?"
"Mhm."
>You reach up a hand, and lazily scratch her back
>"Anon..."
"Yeah?"
>"I don't want to leave."
"I know."
>Without warning, she throws her forelegs around your neck, kissing your mouth
>You embrace her in return, squeezing her close to your chest
>If you let go... you might never hold her again
>The thought of never again hits you again, and you feel tears beginning to slip from your eyes
>Octavia sniffles a little as well, and you feel her body shaking in your arms
>She's crying too
>You're not sure how long you two lie there, kissing as tears flow down both your faces, but the feeling is unmistakable
>Up until this moment, the term "broken heart" has always stuck you as cheesy and clichéd
>But now... you understand
>And an army of Trinity ponies couldn't inflict this level of pain on you
>*TAP TAP TAP*
>Octavia pulls away at the sound of hooves on the door, and you're pretty sure it's not Derpy this time
>"He's here early..."
"Who? Andante?"
>She nods
>"He said it would be later... oh Celestia... quick, hide!
"What? Where?"
>"Anywhere! Just do it!"
>Starting to panic slightly, you leap up from the couch and sprint into the kitchen, cramming yourself into a cupboard
>You hear the sound of the door opening, followed by voices
>"Tavi? What's the matter? Have you been crying?"
>"What? No, of course not."
>"Don't lie to me, Tavi. Was it Anonymous? Did he hurt you again?"
>"Y-yes, I still can't believe what he did. I'll never be able to trust him again."
>The worlds send a jolt of pain through your heart
>You know she's just trying to protect you, but... Octavia will have to lie about you for the rest of her life
>"It's okay. You have me now, Tavi. Together, I'm going to make you a star."
>"Yes... I know."
>The despair is obvious in Octavia's voice; there's no way Andante can be missing it
>Yet he doesn't comment on it at all, and you hear the door shut
>You creep to the window, and watch as the two of them board Andante's carriage, and drive off
>The carriage shrinks to a black speck as it hurtles down the street, eventually disappearing
>You didn't even get to say goodbye
 
>Suddenly you're home again, lying in your bed
>What are you doing here?
>Isn't there somewhere you need to be?
>You're at your table, shoveling a pile of half-cooked eggs into your mouth
>The shower water burns as it falls to strike your skin
>Wind rattles through the broken glass as you stare out the window
>How long have you been standing here?
>A day?
>A week?
>A month?
 
>Octavia smiles as you hoist her into the air, wrapping her tiny body in your arms
>Your lips find her face, her snout, her mouth
>The two of you collapse against the soft warm earth, her weight settling onto you, her kisses peppering your face and neck
>You drift to sleep beneath a willow try, cradling her
>And you wake up in your bed, openly sobbing into the darkness
>Time seems to drag on endlessly, and you find yourself out wandering the streets, unable to bear sitting cooped in your apartment any longer
>You stroll off in a random direction, not caring if you run into Aryanne and her cronies again, or if you get lost, or if...
>"Anon?"
>A female, slightly wobbly-sounding voice calls out to you from the dark
"Who's there?"
>A white blob steps under the streetlight
>It's Vinyl, but... damn, she doesn't look too good; her mane is even more chaotic than usual, and her fur is dotted with various colored blotches
>"Iz me, man... whad're you doin' out here?"
"Just... eh, taking a walk."
>You don't really feel like explaining what's happened to Vinyl
>She won't understand
>"C'mon, man, wha's the matter? I can tell somethin's botherin' you..."
>Vinyl leans up against you
>"How bouchu come back to my shop? Let Auntie Vinyl take good care 'f you..."
>Somehow, you get the impression Vinyl isn't in much of a state to take care of herself, let alone you
"I dunno Vinyl, it's late, and I should probably be getting back, and-- ya!"
>You feel Vinyl's aura close around your hand, and the unicorn beginnins dragging you across the street towards her store
"Vinyl, seriously, I'm fine."
>"No yur not. Auntie Vinyl knows trouble when she sees it. You an' me are gonna have a nice talk."
>Vinyl unlocks the door and pulls you inside and along to the back of the store, tossing you into a beanbag chair
>She plunks herself down across from you, levitating a whiskey bottle in your face
>"Drink."
"Vinyl, I don't want to--"
>"Anon, you hafta listen t' Auntie Vinyl. She knows best."
>Vinyl continues to wave the bottle in your face until you take a grudging sip
>Normally this shit burns like hell going down, but now you hardly feel it
>So, for good measure, you drink a bit more
>"That's muh boy. So... what's on your mind, Anon? Is it that Octavia again?"
>You're sure the expression on your face at the mention of the name "Octavia" answers her question
>"Wow. That bad, huh?"
"Yeah, it was... yeah."
>You slump forward in your beanbag
>Vinyl drags herself up to you, resting a hoof on your shoulders
>"Ouch, man. You been holdin' up okay?"
>You shrug
>"Yeah. I understand. Happened to me a couple times too."
"Really?"
>Vinyl nods, before taking a swig from the bottle
>"I met a cute little stallion at one of my first shows. We hit it off real well, did the datin' thing for about two years, before he up and cheated on me with some rave slut."
"Oh..."
>"Yeah. I know your pain, man. Auntie Vinyl knows all 'bout it."
>Vinyl leans back in her beanbag, staring up at the ceiling
"What did you end up doing?"
>Vinyl shrugs
>"I kept on living."
>Even in the dim light, her white fur seems seems to glitter, yet her eyes are so dark they appear almost black
"What do you mean?"
>Vinyl sighs, and shifts around in her beanbag, the nylon seat groaning under her weight
>"Well, look. The way I've always seen it is: you can't go on livin' your life lovin' something you can't have. That can't be your life, y'know? You gotta love what you can, 'til it, y'know, dies. Then you gotta let it go. Let it fly away."
>The blackness of Vinyl's eyes add's an uncomfortably piercing element to her words
"But, Vinyl, without her I'm--"
>"You're Anon. Th' same Anon who came in 'ere two months ago, before he even knew Octavia. You haven't changed, man, except for the better. You gotta... you got let her fly away. You gotta live, man."
>Vinyl's head has begun to droop, but she still manages to stand up and stagger over to you
>She throws her forehooves around your neck, and kisses your forehead
>The gesture surprises you, but you quickly return it, wrapping your arms around Vinyl to hug her in return
>"See? Auntie Vinyl knows best."
"Yeah. You know, Vinyl, I think I was wrong about you."
>She smiles, and fake-punches you in the cheek
>"You'd be surprised how much that happ'ns."
>With that, Vinyl pulls herself off you, and flops back into her beanbag
>"You're free to go now, 'non, 'nless you'd like to stand here."
"Would that be okay?"
"'Course. Just keep your hands off me, lover boy. I've had enough for tonight already."
"Vinyl..."
>The DJ pony is already passed out in her beanbag, snoring loudly
>You sigh, and shake your head
>Vinyl may be weird and slightly overbearing, but damn is she a good friend
>You remove your jacket, and drape it over her as a blanket before letting yourself drift off as well
 
>You wake slowly the next morning, rolling out of the beanbag and pulling yourself clumsily to your feet
>Exhaustion still lurks in your bones, but it's better than the dead numbness you felt before
>Vinyl's right
>You gotta live
>But... you also don't want to leave Octavia behind
>These last two months meant so much to you, you can't just walk away from them
>Out of boredom, you begin browsing through Vinyl's store, eyes scanning the titles of the various records dotting the shelves
>Something about the rows of cardboard spines awakens a dim memory within you
>Back when you and Octavia first played the same show, the wager you made...
>'Loser buys the winner's entire discography'
>She won, didn't she?
>You take two steps to the lift, working backwards in alphabetical order to the 'O' section
>And there it is, a row of six different records all marked as by 'Octavia Melody'
>You pull the stack from the shelf, and go to look for Vinyl
>She doesn't seem to be around, so you leave all the bits you have with you on the counter, and duck out of the store
 
>Back at your home, you remove the first record from its slip case, placing it onto your janky second-hand turntable
>The cardboard cover simply titles it 'Compositions Volume I'
>You drop the needle onto the record, and let it play
>The sound quality is poor, as expected, but it's Octavia's music alright
>Those familiar, haunting melodies drift from the spinning vinyl disc, awakening within you feelings of longing, sadness, confusion, and nostalgia
>You feel your eyes beginning to water
>As long as you have these records, Octavia will always be with you, in a way
>The first record winds down, and you put on 'Compositions Volume II"
>It's even gloomier than the first, and you can't help but find yourself transported back to the train-station basement, and that helplessness you felt at Aryanne's hooves
>You can't help but wonder what happened to that little Nazi horse
>Bizarrely, you kinda hope she's okay...
>The third record is entitled 'Hazy Memories'
>The music spilling forth awakens memories of life back on earth, filling you with a powerful homesickness
>Your life on earth wasn't perfect, but damn you miss some people back there
>What the hell would your dad think of you now?
>He was a musician too, and thrilled when you took up a guitar of your own
>How would he react to you playing gigs for little cartoon horsies?
>You chuckle a bit, despite the wetness on your face
>Macho man like him, he'd probably have a heart attack
>If he's still around...
 
>The record winds down, and your hands are shaking as you go to change it out
>'Compositions Volume III part 1' goes on next
>It's... peaceful
>The kind of music that makes you think of gardens and Sunday mornings
>Part 2 is much of the same, filled with such cheerful music you're surprised Octavia made it
>It sparks a little glimmer of hope in your chest
>Even if you can't be with her... at least she'll be happy
>She's achieving her dream after all, right?
>The fifth record winds down, leaving you with one left
>'Everything Is'
>You place the record onto the turntable, preparing yourself
>The music... you don't know how to describe it
>At points it's so happy you can't help but grin, but at other points...
>You don't think you've ever cried this hard in your life
>Everything that's happened finally crashes onto you
>All that's happened since you met Octavia seems to play on a reel inside your head as the music progresses
>How much she used to hate you, those first moments of her opening up, the music you made, the night one the couch...
>They happened
>Even if she's gone now, you had those two months together
>And now... now you have to let her fly away
>You have to live
 
>As soon as the last record has wound down, you stand up and grab your guitar
>It's time to make sense of everything
>Hunger burns in your stomach, but you ignore it, strumming out random, increasingly complex chord patterns, waiting for something that sounds good
>By the time you've gotten to the point where your fingers can barely keep up with your head, you realize this isn't right
>You don't need something complicated to express yourself; you're not trying to impress anyone
>Having made this realization, you finally succumb to the temptation of food, and fix yourself a quick meal before getting back to songwriting
>After another hour and a half of experimentation, you've got a nice, simple progression to work with
>But you still need something more
>The compilation album might never be released, but you'd like to combine at least a little of Octavia's music with yours
>And so, for the first time ever, you try to compose a little classical music
>It's not as easy as you hoped
>The notes seem mistimed and fake no matter how you try to space them, and eventually you give up out of sheer frustration
>It's long past dark outside, and you collapse into your bed, exhausted
>Something pokes you in the side, and you reach down and grab it
>It's the envelope that the Gala performance invitation came in
>You're about to toss it away, when you notice that there's still something inside the paper
>You flip the envelope upside-down, and two golden tickets fall onto your bed
>They're tickets to the Gala
>One for you, obviously, and one for... whom?
>You assume it'd be for a date, but... who do you know that would go with you?
>Vinyl's one of your closest friends, but you can't imagine she'd enjoy an environment like the Gala
>She probably has a performance invitation already anyway
>Soarin will be there already, no doubt
>So... who?
>You glance back down at the envelop lying torn open in your hand
>And then you have your answer
 
>"Hiya Anon!"
>Derpy gives you that same goofy smile she does every day as she hands you a small stack of envelopes
>"Today's bill day! Hope you saved your money."
"Aw, man, I thought that wasn't until next week."
>You flip through the envelopes, not terribly concerned with bills
>You're pretty sure you don't have to pay these, seeing as you don't technically live here
>Anyway, bills aren't what you're concerned with right now
"Derpy, uh..."
>"Yes, Anon?"
"I got an extra ticket to the Gala this week, and I was wondering... you wanna go with me?"
>You don't think you've ever seen a pony so happy in your life
>Derpy cartwheels in the air, before grabbing your shoulders in her forehooves
>"Oh my gosh! Yes! Of course I'd like to go! Oh, wow..."
>She seems to wriggle with excitement in midair
>"Why'd you pick me though? I'm just your mailmare."
>You shrug
"I dunno, I just kinda feel like you deserve it for how hard you work."
>Derpy beams
>"No one's ever thanked me for my work before... and especially not like this. Oh, wow..."
>Derpy giggles again
>"I get to buy a dress, and I can have someone style my mane, and..."
>She gets lost in daydreaming, her eyes staring blankly off into the distance
"Derpy, you okay?"
>"Oh, yes, yes. Heeheehee. So, what's the plan going to be?"
"I dunno, just meet me here at, say... seven o'clock?"
>"Okay. I'll... I'll see you then, okay?"
>You nod, and scratch her on the ears
"See ya then."
>Derpy flutters dizzily off, pausing to wave back to you
>She looks so damn happy
>Who says you can't do something right every now and again?
>And now, back to songwriting
 
>Over the course of the next day, your song slowly begins to take shape
>The process of writing music for instruments you've never played is incredibly frustrating, but also refreshing, in a way
>The more you work, the more you find yourself pouring your soul into this song
>So many threads of your life find themselves in the music: Octavia, the period of depression you went through, your own fears, missing back home...
>It's all there
>In a way, this song is starting to become you
>And, once you've made that realization, your progress continues much more quickly
>You push yourself into the creation of this new song with a fervor you didn't know you had
>Each instrument involved in the piece is given its own sheet music
>You hope there'll be ponies there you can count on to perform with you
>The last touches on the lyrics tie everything together
>You're not sure if anyone else who listens to the song would understand its meaning, but you do
>And, in a way, that's all that matters
 
>The day of the Gala arrives, and you're nervous as hell
>All those ponies...
>You've put easily a hundred hours into this one song at this point; what if they don't like it?
>What if this is just a nonsensical mess to your crowd?
>No, no, you can't think like that
>You've never let a crowd down since you started, and you won't start now
>You're gonna give them a show that'd make Octavia proud
 
>Unfortunately, you don't have any decent change of clothes
>Human-fitted stuff is, understandably, not very easy to find in Equestria
>You managed to convince a few tailors to custom-fit stuff for you, but it cost quite a chunk of bits
>So... you'll probably stick out
>Well, more than usual, at least
>You're so busy worrying about music and clothes that you forget to worry about wether or not things will be awkward with Derpy
>Until you hear her knock on your door, that is
>*TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP*
>You jump at the sudden noise
>Is it seriously seven o'clock already?
>You haven't even showered yet
>Oh, jeez, man, you look like a slob
>After taking a few frantic seconds to run your hands through your hair, you pull open the door to reveal Derpy hovering there, dressed in an elegant silvery-white dress
>She's adorable enough to cause a heart attack
>"Hiya Anon! How do I look?"
>She does a little twirl for you, fluttering her eyelashes
"Great. Wow, I feel kinda bad now for looking like such a slob."
>"What? Anon, you looks fine. Very handsome."
>Derpy squeezes your cheeks in between her forehooves, making a face at you
>"So c'mon! You don't wanna be late, do you?"
"Heh, no. Just lemme grab my guitar real quick."
 
>The ride to the Gala isn't awkward at all, thank God
>Derpy chats excitedly about everything she sees, talking about what kind of mail everyone around you gets, what her favorite places to fly are, which bakeries serve the best muffins...
>Normally, talk like this would bore you right out of your skull, but Derpy's so energetic about it all that you find yourself completely engaged in her story about the time she ordered banana nut and got chocolate chips instead
>A little part back in your brain still misses Octavia, but, for the most part... you're happy
>You get to spend the night with this adorable, sweet little mare, you'll probably bro out with Soarin, and you get a chance to wow an entire audience worth of ponies
>Tonight, you're going to enjoy yourself
 
>The carriage pulls up outside the event, and you step out with Derpy fluttering behind your shoulders
>Wide-eyed, mouth gaping, she scans the scene of the Gala
>To be fair, it is quite the spectacle
>If regular Canterlot life can be considered fancy, then this... extravagant
>It's kinda overwhelming, really
>But at least Derpy's happy
>All around you, ponies tromp by with colorful dresses draped over their colorful bodies
>A stuck-up looking pony is checking tickets near the entrance, and you and Derpy spend a good forty-five minutes in line before you finally get to him
>You show him your performer's pass, and he gives you directions to the musician's stage
>He eyes Derpy strangely, but you don't linger long enough for her to notice
>Not that anything could bring down her spirits right now
>Derpy is as excited as only a cartoon horse achieving her childhood dream could be
>Every little detail, from the bowls of pink punch to the tall-as-fuck horse princess herself makes her squeal in delight
>"There she is! That's her! The princess!"
"Heheh, yeah. Damn, she's tall..."
>You've kinda gotten used to being the tallest living thing around, and the princess's height perturbs you
>"Oh my... she's actually talking to ponies! I... I could go meet her! Oh, wow...."
>Derpy begins to float, as if in a trance, over towards Celestia
>You hang back
>Celestia spoke to you briefly when you first arrived, and she seemed rather... cold toward you
>Still, it's not every day you get a chance to talk to a horse goddess
>You follow along behind Derpy, wading slowly through the huge line of ponies waiting to be greeted by Celestia
>When you finally reach the end of the line, Celestia turns her radiant, violet gaze towards the two of you
>Derpy seizes up in awe
>"Good evening, Anonymous. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Didn't expect to be here, really."
>"I see. And who's this?"
"This is Derpy. My, uh, date tonight."
>"Of course. A pleasure to meet you, Derpy."
>Celestia extends a hoof towards Derpy
>She shakes it the same way you'd expect anyone to shake a deity's hand
>Very, very carefully
 
>Even after you two walk away, Derpy's still dazed
>"Wow... I shook hooves with the princess..."
>You step into the ballroom, where an extravagant stage has been set up in the middle of the room
>Atop the stage, a pony in a tuxedo is tapping away at the piano keys, filling the room with a slow, listing waltz
>Several pairs of ponies slow-dance around you, and you weave between them as you make your way toward the stage
>There's a little area behind the stage, surrounded by a curtain
>You assume that's where you can store your instrument until performance time, and head toward it
>Along the way, you have to dodge several more dancers, but you quickly make it to the curtained entrance with Derpy behind you
>You pry aside the red fabric, and peek inside
>And come face-to-white, makeupped face with Andante
>Immediately, you body clenches with a mixture of surprise and hatred
>What the hell is he doing here?
>Judging by the expression on Andante's face, he's thinking the exact same thing
>The two you just stand there for a second, staring pure hatred into each other
>"Are you going to get out of my way, monkey?"
"Piss off."
>"Cute. You're not going to make me call the guards on you, are you?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary."
>"Of course it won't."
>Andante pushes you aside effortlessly, and strides past
>You try to resist him, but his strength is insane
>It's immensely disconcerting
>You continue on into the curtained room, setting down your guitar
>Well, there goes your good mood
>You should have stood up to him more, but... damn, you don't feel like dealing with this guy tonight
>You just wanna have a nice, fun little night with Derpy, and... wait a minute
>Andante's here
>That means Octavia might be here
>Your heart immediately jump into your throat, and a queasy excitement begins to fill your stomach
>She has to be around here somewhere, right?
>You can find her, and you can talk to her again, and...
>...and then what?
>You rest against a stack of cases, head spinning
>You hear the curtains part behind you, and Derpy flutters in
>"Anon? Is everything okay? Who was that?"
"What? Yeah, I'm alright."
>You run a hand across your forehead
>Are you really this worked up just about getting to see Octavia again?
>After all, it's not like a fifteen minute chat is going to change anything
>She's still going away after this
>But... at least now you can say goodbye
>And you'd like for her to hear your song
>Speaking of which, you haven't been told when you'll be performing yet
 
>Back on the dance floor, more ponies are beginning to flood in, dancing to the light jazz coming from the piano
>You scan around, looking for somewhat you might--
>"Hey, Anon!"
>Soarin waves to you from across the hall, grinning
>He's wearing his flight suit, and he's flanked by Spitfire and Fleetfoot
>Spitfire gives you this weird, sultry look when you approach them, and Fleetfoot giggles
>Soarin notices, and the look on his face send guilt stabbing into your chest
>Fortunately, Derpy chooses that exact moment to introduce herself
>"Hiya! I'm Derpy. You're Soarin, right?"
>"Um, yeah. You've heard of me?"
>"Of course I have! You're in the Wonderbolts, the coolest pegasi ever!"
>"Heheh, I guess you could say that..."
>You can tell Soarin's pleased by Derpy's enthusiasm
>Spitfire and Fleetfoot are giving the three of you looks though, so you invite Soarin and Derpy to follow you to wherever there's food
>The two of them agree, and you head off
 
>Back behind the main room, there's a room with tables of food set up, around which several ponies are milling, tasting expensive treats and other horse-food things
>You're really not paying attention to them
>Instead, your eyes are busy scanning the room, hoping for any sign of a black pompadour, or a gray coat
>But you don't see her
>After three passes over the room, you're pretty sure Octavia isn't around
>"Anon?"
>Derpy grabs your arm, drawing your attention back to her and Soarin
>"Are you looking for somepony?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. I don't think she's here though."
>"That's too bad. But come with me, I found something really cool I want to show you!"
>She half-drags you out from the banquet room, and out onto the palace's terraces, overlooking the rest of the city
>Soarin follows, looking confused
"Whoa."
>"I know, right! Isn't it great?"
>Before you, you can see the entirety of Canterlot laid out, the lights of a thousand ponies' homes twinkling amidst the backdrop of night
>And beyond that, the rest of the valley surrounding Canterlot seems to stretch on forever, little rolling hills of white dotted by snow-covered treetops
>Derpy does that wriggle thing things again, eyes wide with the spectacle
"Wait, Derpy, you're a pegasus. Have you never seen Equestria from high up before?"
>"Of course I have. But I've never seen it from the balcony of the Grand Galloping Gala before!"
>She squeals again, rubbing her forehooves in front of her chest
>You just look at Soarin, and shrug
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia sits at the edge of the gardens, face in her hooves
>Why did she think this was a good idea?
>No matter how much she tries, she'll never fit in with these Canterlot high-society types
>And now she has to perform for them
>But all her joy in performing is gone
>Who is she even playing for at this point?
>She's not playing for Andante; she can barely stand to be around him anymore
>And she's not playing for Anon... she's not sure if she'll ever even see him again
>Her parents are on the other side of Equestria
>And the rest of the ponies here... she knows they don't care about her
>To them, she's an hour of entertainment, or a business opportunity
>The only ponies to ever care about her are miles away, soon to be farther
>An immense loneliness settles over Octavia as she looks out at the city
>Thousands of ponies, and she left the only friend she had among them behind
 
********************************************
 
>You continue to mill about with Soarin and Derpy, occasionally checking back in the performance room to see if it's your turn yet
>Derpy continues her endless chatter, pointing out every little thing that catches her eye as if it were the most splendid thing in all Equestria
>"Oh, look, Anon! They have those little sandwich things!"
>Soarin looks a little left out, and you feel kinda bad for him
>Poor guy seems eternally doomed to be the third wheel
>The three of your way back toward the terraces again, before Derpy stops you
>She's basically been clinging to your arm the entire time
>"Anon, look! Gardens! They're so pretty!"
"Yeah..."
>Honestly, you're not too thrilled with the idea of hanging out in the gardens when they're covered in snow, but Derpy seems so excited you can't refuse
>"Let's go! Let's go!"
>She pulls you by the arm out into the gardens
>"Hey, Anon?"
"Yeah?"
>Soarin falls in behind you
>"I'm gonna go back with the team. You two, uh, have fun..."
"No, c'mon Soarin, you should--"
>"No, I really gotta get back to the team. See ya later, man."
>He turns, and plods off towards the main room
>Outside, it's absolutely freezing, chilling you right down to the bone in seconds
>Derpy doesn't seem to mind though, she's too busy admiring the plant life that seems to spring up all around you, despite the frigid cold
>The paths through the gardens are mostly free of snow, but little mounds of white occasionally impede your progress
>Derpy leads you towards the center of the gardens, and you notice she's becoming increasingly fidgety as you go farther in
>It's a little weird, but you figure she's just cold
>In the center of the gardens, you reach a small clearing, where you and Derpy take a seat on a narrow wooden bench
>She coughs
>"Ahem, um, Anon?"
"Yeah?"
>"It's been really great, being out here with you. Everything is so... wow, it's just so cool. It's even better than I expected. And I just wanted to say... thanks, Anon. Thank you so much."
>Derpy pulls you into a soft, feathers hug, nuzzling her nose against your cheek
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia's starting to shiver from the cold, but she still doesn't have any desire to go back inside
>Andante will be waiting in there, to parade her around again, to try and sell her to new promoter's, new clients
>And she'll have to smile and play along, otherwise...
>She shivers harder, imagining what he might do
>How could she not have seen what he was doing, all this time?
>She sees it everywhere now, of course
>Every little movement of his eyes, the way he annunciates certain words, the way he subtly reminds her about Anon, and her family
>She's firmly in his grasp now, and it disgusts her
>Is this how she has to live for the rest of her life?
>Her one chance for love crushed, not allowed to have any friends...
>What's she going to do?
>A stallion who sounds just like Anon is on the other side of the hedges, talking to some mare with a dopey-sounding voice
>Lucky girl
>Octavia tries to suppress the bitter feelings that bubble into her chest at the sound
>Why does it seem like she's the only one doomed to be lonely?
 
********************************************
 
>Awkwardly, you pat her on the back, surprised by the sudden display of affection
"No problem. I'm glad you could be here with me."
>"You are? Really?"
>Derpy looks so happy she's practically glowing
"Of course. It seems like you're enjoying this a lot more than I am."
>"You're not having fun? Why not?"
>Derpy's expression switches to one of concern
"Eh... it's a long story."
>"You can tell me, Anon. I don't want you to be sad."
>She gives you a little encouraging smile
 
********************************************
 
>Did that mare just say Anon?
>Octavia gets up from her spot, and inches closer to the hedge that separates her from the other couple
 
********************************************
 
"There's this mare, who I think might be here... she and I had a, uh, thing going on for a little while. But we had to split up. It's hard for me to focus on anything else."
>Derpy's face goes from surprise, to hurt, to sadness, and then back to concern all in the span of a single second
>"Oh, I... I see. I thought that... nevermind. Uh..."
>Derpy looks flustered now, and starts tapping her forehooves together
>"You shouldn't let that get you down, you know. There's lots of other nice mares here..."
"I know. I shouldn't let it bother me so much, but I don't know how to handle it."
 
********************************************
 
>That's Anon!
>It has to be!
>He's talking about her, isn't he?
>Octavia's heart begins to flutter in her chest
>He's right there, just on the other side from her!
>...with another mare
>But he said he misses her!
>She could go to him right now, they could see each other again, one last time--
>One last time
>If she goes to see him now, she'll just have to say goodbye again
>And anyway, even he does still miss her... he's found another mare
>Octavia feels a burning sensation welling in her eyes
>He's going to move on, and find his own happiness
>And she'll still be Octavia, lonely cellist, living under Andante's hoof
>It's all so monstrously unfair, she can't bear to be near him anyway
>Octavia turns, and full-sprints out of the gardens
 
********************************************
 
>You and Derpy both turn at the same time, startled by the sudden rustling in the bushes behind you
>"What was that?"
"No idea. Anyway... I'm sorry I haven't been a lot of fun tonight."
>"It's alright, Anon. It's just nice to have somebody to talk to. I don't really... have a lot of friends."
>She scratches at the back of her head, embarrassed
>You lay a hand on Derpy's withers, trying to give her a reassuring smile
>It doesn't work as well as you'd hoped
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia sprints through the Gala crowd, dress snapping around her rear hooves
>She can't stand to be here anymore
>Why does her life have to be so awful?
>Why can't she just get one little break?
>Why does everything good she has have to be taken away from her?
>She escapes the ballroom and out onto a row of quiet, mostly-empty terraces
>Near the edge of the terraces, she manages to find a small, quiet spot to hide
>Completely alone
>Might as well get used to being like this, she figures
 
********************************************
 
>You wander slowly back into the dining hall, with Derpy limply hovering next to you
>She no longer gazes with wonder around the hall, now she just looks kinda... gloomy
>It hurts to look at, and you find yourself trying to rekindle some of her excitement
"Hey, Derpy, look over there! They just brought out another tray of muffins."
>She looks up, and smiles weakly
>"Cool. Do you want one?"
"Well, uh... I was gonna get one for both of us."
>"Oh. Thanks."
>She pats you on the back, and you go to retrieve the baked goods
>Coming back, you find that Derpy's already found a table, and she stares blankly out the tall stained-glass windows, drumming a hoof on the table
>You sit across from her, passing her a banana nut muffin
>She smiles, and takes a bite
>The two of you eat in silence, focusing mostly on the conversation of ponies around you
>It's all so ungodly boring
>You can't bear much more time in this stuffy place, hoping for Octavia to walk by
"Derpy? You wanna go out to those terraces?"
>"Sure."
>Derpy follows behind you now, no more tugging you around by the arm
>You can't help but get the feeling you hurt her somehow
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia hears heavy-set hoofsteps behind her
>Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a white fur coat, over thick forelegs
>The thought of having to talk to Andante more makes her physically ill, but she has to be polite
>"Good evening, Ms. Octavia."
>Wait, that's not Andante's voice
>Octavia looks up, right into the blue-mustached, monocled face of Fancy Pants
>"Mr. Fancy! What are you..."
>It's a stupid question, and she cuts herself off
>"Looking for you, my dear. I think you owe me a bit of an explanation."
>"Yes, I suppose you're right. Will you sit down?"
>She gesture for him to sit next to her on the edge of the terrace
>"Actually, it's a bit figid out here for my tastes. Would you care to join me in one of the private rooms?"
>"Of course."
>Fancy holds out a forehoof, and Octavia takes it
>He helps her to stand, and the two of them head back inside the palace
 
********************************************
 
>You step out onto the terrace, pausing once again to admire the view
>It must be pretty great being a pegasus, you figure
>Derpy seems to be trying to look at anything but you
>Yeah, you definitely did something
>You have an inkling as to what, but you really hope that's not the case
"Derpy? Are you okay?"
>"Me? Of course, Anon. I'm perfectly fine."
>But the pain in her crossed eyes tells the opposite story
"Did I... did I say something wrong?"
>"No, nothing wrong..."
"Just not something right?"
>Derpy hesitates for a moment, then nods
"Dammit. I'm really sorry, Derpy."
>She wipes her hose on the back of her hoof
>"It's not your fault, Anon. I guess I just got carried away a little, daydreaming and all."
"I... I see. Christ, I'm sorry Derpy. I ruined the evening, didn't I?"
>"Ruined? No, Anon, no, this has been amazing. And I'm really glad you brought me. I'm just... I don't know. Am I just... not right for you?"
>She kicks her hind legs a little
>You reach out, and pat Derpy on the back
"No, no, it's not you, Derpy. You're an amazing pony, really. I've never seen someone so full of joy, someone so fun to be around. But... I..."
>"You still like that other mare?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Derpy. I'm so, so sorry."
 
********************************************
 
>Fancy leads Octavia into one of the many opulent private rooms at the Gala
>It has a window overlooking the valley, and a few plush chairs gathered around an oak table
>Fancy takes a seat, and gestures for her to do the same
>Octavia settles in across from him, trying to keep her face neutral
>Inside, though, her stomach churns with guilt
>"So, Ms. Melody. Would you care to explain yourself?"
>Fancy's voice is perfectly friendly, but Octavia can't help but feel as if she's being reprimanded
>And so she takes a deep breath, and begins her story
>She glosses over a fair amount of what happened between her an Anon, but tries to still give Fancy as much of the necessary information as possible
>Fancy's expression becomes increasingly grim as she goes into detail about the Trinity, and Andante's possible connections
 
>In the end, she even tells Fancy about her split with Anon
>It's hard to keep her voice steady at that point, and Fancy lays a comforting hoof across her withers
"And now he's here, and... I don't know what to do. I want to see him again, but... I'll just have to say goodbye again. I can't do it."
>Octavia lays her head down on the table, resting it on her forelegs
"It's not fair. Why couldn't he just let me be happy? What... what do I do now?"
>"My dear... I cannot say. I'm sorry. This is a choice you're going to have to make for yourself."
"But there is no choice. There's nothing I can do, Fancy. Andante will only use the people I love to hurt me."
>"If they love you... I think they'd gladly risk themselves for you to be happy."
"But I can't live like that! I can't let anyone get hurt because of me. I don't... I don't deserve that."
>Fancy sighs
>"I wish I could help you, my dear. This 'Andante' fellow, if he really is so terrible, why not report him to the police?"
"That'll never work. He's too smart to leave any evidence. And if I did, he'd know, and he'd... I don't even want to think about it."
>A moment of silence stretches between them, in which the only sound is the mournful howl of wind outside
>"I see. Well... my dear, I truly am sorry if this is truly how it must end. I did quite enjoy your music, and I greatly respect you as an artist. If you think I can be in any way of use, please tell me."
>Fancy stands, and moves to the door
>"Unfortunately, I must return to the rigamarole of high society. But, in the meantime, you are welcome to stay as long as you please."
>The door clicks softly as it closes, leaving Octavia alone
>Alone
>She's going to be like this for a long time, isn't she?
>Octavia wishes she could cry, wishes she could somehow let all these awful feelings out of her, but she can't
>Instead of sad, she just feels... empty
 
********************************************
 
>You and Derpy sit on the edge of the terrace, watching the city around you stir in its sleep
>Neither of you have said anything more, and the silence between you feels almost as bleak as the weather outside
>She's not mad at you, but you can tell you hurt her worse than she'll let on
>Poor girl, having her hopes raised just to be dashed again
>You wish there was something you could do to make it up to her, but...
>Well, what is there?
"Hey, uh... you wanna go back inside?"
>"Huh? Oh, sure."
>Lazily, Derpy hovers back up into the air
>You head back inside, rubbing your hands to return some warmth to them
>Soarin's in the corner again, looking downcast behind Spitfire and Fleetfoot as they chat
>You immediately wave for him to join you, and the pegasus trots slowly over
"Celebrity life gettin' to ya?"
>"Eh... I wish."
>You thought the joke would get a better response
"Those mares over there look like they'd like to talk to you."
>You point to a group of mares who are, indeed, watching the three of you and giggling
>"Eh, they're probably just checkin' you out, Anon. No mare wants to talk to me."
>"I want to talk to you."
>Derpy hovers out from behind you, waving to Soarin
>"Um... really?"
>"Of course! Being a Wonderbolt sounds like the most amazing thing ever! What's it like?"
>"Well, uh..."
>Soarin launches into a modest explanation of his life as a celebrity racehorse, looking awkward but more than a little pleased
>Derpy watches, wide-eyed with interest, occasionally interrupting Soarin to ask questions
>The sight of them getting along so well eases a bit of the trouble in your mind
>As such, you excuse yourself, leaving the two of them to themselves
>You wander aimlessly through the rest of the Gala, still hoping to run across Octavia
>What would you do even if you did find her?
>You entertain fantasies of tearful embraces and escaping together wish her
>But it's never going to happen, is it?
>Your wandering brings you into the ballroom, where a crowd has begun to form
>The stage is currently empty, so you're not entirely sure what they're here for
>You slowly begin threading your way through the crowd, trying to get to the other side of the room
>Right now, you just want a place to be alone
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia stands, and exits Fancy's private room
>Andante's going to force her to play eventually, so she might as well be ready
>Although, at this point, she doesn't even care if she embarrasses herself
>She begins worming her way into the ballroom, shoving past the ponies who are now crowding around the stage
>Why are they all even here, anyway?
 
********************************************
 
>You're finally almost to the center of the ballroom, but you still can't see any sign of something happening onstage
>Are all these ponies just here to have some stupid silent moshpit
>Honestly, you wouldn't mind that at this point...
>You could use an outlet for all your frustration
>Finally, you see a flicker of movement on the stage, and a pony with a cheap toupee and a handlebar mustache struts up to the microphone
>"Fillies and gentlecolts, it's so good to see you all here. This next act is very, very special to us here in Canterlot..."
 
********************************************
 
>Well, at least something's happening now
>Andante said she was scheduled to perform last, so this can't be her call
>But whose is it?
>She doesn't know of any other Canterlot musicians who would draw a crowd like this
 
********************************************
 
>"Indeed, a special one he is, but not just because of his admirable talent. This next performer is a visitor, from beyond our world."
>Wait, what?
>Oh, shit, that's you!
>The ponies surrounding you begin to clap and cheer, and push you towards the stage
>You catch hints of your name in the audience, and several mares shouting lewd things
>Man... high society, huh?
>The shoving hooves seem to press from all directions, shoving you relentlessly forward, you vision a see of multicolored limbs
>Until the crowd momentarily breaks, and you see her
>Octavia's just standing there, caught in the same crowd you are, pushed along as easily by the tide of excited horses
>Your eyes only make contact for a brief instant before she's swept away
>You don't even notice yourself being pushed the rest of the way to the stage
>She's here
>She's actually here
>You feel... well, you don't know what you feel
>Happy, confused, scared, sad, anxious... man, the list goes on
>But she's here
>No matter what happens next... at least something will happen
>She's still a part of you, at least for a little while
>And, trying your best to hold that feeling in your chest, you stride up onto the stage, waving confidently to the legions of ponies out there
>They scream back, a roar that fills the room with crackling energy
>In the back, you even see Andante, standing out like an ugly, pearl-white speck
>You make sure to make eye contact with him, smirking
>The look on his face worth all the blood, sweat, and tears you've put into getting here
>But, first thing's first
>You peer over the stage, down into the curtained area, where some previous performers are milling about
>You explain you could use some extra instruments on your last song, and toss them a fistful of bits to convince them
>After that, you grab your guitar, and return to the stage
>Let's do this
>You step up to the mic, testing it with a quick tap of your finger
"Evening, everybo-- pony. Evening everypony!"
>Christ, you feel like an idiot saying that
>The ponies cheer in response though, and you can't help but smile
>You forgot how much you missed this
>Without even bothering with an introduction, you slam right into your first song, the instrument mics amplifying the sound until your frantic strumming fills the entire hall
>Ponies cheer, and the crowd begins to churn as they jump and bob to the music
>Your voice joins the guitar, and another shout goes up from the crowd
>By the time the first song ends, the room crackles with energy, and the crowd seems on the verge of entering into a full on moshpit
>Maybe pony high-society isn't as bad as you thought
>Your eyes scan the crowd again, looking for Octavia
>You don't see her, and for a moment you panic, thinking she might have left
>But no, she wouldn't do that
>She has to be somewhere, watching
>Because you're singing to her
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia lies, shuddering, at the edge of the terrace
>It's too much... too much
>She can't bear to listen to Anon play again
>It brings back so many happy memories
>Memories she can't handle right now
>Because each one just remembers how she'll never be that happy again
>She leans over the edge, feeling like she's about to be sick
>She wants to be there for Anon, she wants more than anything to hear him, but...
>But she can't take it
 
********************************************
 
>Your next song is even faster than the first, whipping the crowd into a frenzy
>You inject as much power into your voice as your body will allow, the reaction from the crowd giving you the strength to continue long after your throat begins to ache
>Song follows song, each one harder and faster than the last
>The crowd seems in danger of turning into a full-on riot, with ponies practically trampling each other in excitement
>Andante's still in the back, eyeing you cooly
>You give him another smug grin, just for good measure
 
********************************************
 
>Octavia can hear the crowd inside cheering madly
>Anon's music is barely audible over the noise
>She wishes she could hear it...
>But she can't... she can't...
>The song ends, and the cheering increases
>Anon probably doesn't even miss her right now
>All these mares cheering for him... he'll probably forget her in a week
>A hoof taps Octavia's shoulder
>She looks up, dreading it'll be Andante
>Instead, she sees Fancy again
>"You alright, my dear?"
"Yeah. I'm fine, I'm... fine."
>Octavia takes a shaky breath
>"Well, Ms. Octavia, if you don't mind me saying... I think Anon needs you in there."
"I can't go in there. It hurts too much."
>"Did you ever think love would be easy? Of course it's going to hurt. That's part of what makes it worth doing."
"But I..."
>"Ms. Octavia, you are one of the strongest, most confident mares I've ever met. You can bear this pain, and you can escape this Andante. You just have to find the way."
"I... you're right."
>Fancy helps Octavia to her hooves
>Octavia laughs as she stands
"This reminds me of something my dad used to tell me. 'Octavia, you can get through anything in this life. Anything at all. As long as you can find the strength to stand back up.'"
>Fancy chuckles at that
>"A smart stallion then. But there's no shame in asking for a little help once in a while."
"That's a lesson I've come to learn the hard way. But, in all honesty... thank you Fancy. You've been a fantastic employer to me this entire time, and I've been nothing but ungrateful."
>"Nonsense, you've been perfectly fine. But that Andante..."
>Fancy shakes his head
>"Nasty piece of work."
"Yes... but don't worry, I'll find a way to handle him. One way or another. I won't let him hurt anyone else. But first... I have a musician to support."
>Octavia takes a deep breath, readjusts her bowtie, and near-charges into the ballroom
 
********************************************
 
>Another song winds down, leaving you panting and breathless
>The ponies surge toward the stage, plush little forelegs reaching towards you
>You do your best to touch each and every one of them, smiling at the adoring horses
>Just as you're about to return to your playing, an ash-grey hoof meets your fingers
>Octavia seems to meld out of the crowd, staring up at you with that intense violet gaze
>She doesn't speak, and neither do you
>But the two of you stand there, touching, if for a moment, before the crowd pulls her away
>You don't lose eye contact though, and you watch her as she allows the crowd to drag her away
>She stops about twenty feet out
>And gives you a small smile
>You try your best to return it, even swallowing the storm of emotions that seeing Octavia again brings
>She's here
>And now, it's time
>You motion to the band ponies to join you on the stage
>You step up to the microphone, scanning the crowd once more
>Andante's out there, Soarin and Derpy are together near the edge of the crowd, Fancy's beaming from up on a balcony...
>Even Princess Celestia and her blue sister are there, watching from a private booth overlooking the ballroom
>All eyes are on you
>You've never been one for stage fright, but this is actually starting to make you a bit nervous
>What if this song is terrible?
>What if what you're singing doesn't make any sense?
>You do your best to swallow those feelings down
>You poured your heart into this next song, for better or for worse
"Alright, everybody. This is gonna be my last one. You've all been an amazing audience, but everything's gotta end, I guess. Anyway..."
>You do another scan of the audience, locating Octavia
"There's a very special mare out there tonight. And this next song... part of it's about her. But it's also about me. It's about my friends. It's about my family back home. It's a song, I guess, about everything. I... I hope you all like it."
>That was awkward as hell
>You step away from the mic, and position your hands on the guitar
>The backup ponies behind you have their sheet music and instruments ready
>You look back out into the crowd, focusing on Octavia
>After taking a deep breath, you place your pick against the strings, and begin
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITDaToPnsNs
 
>Immediately, a hush falls over the audience, as every pony in there senses the change in mood
>You keep your eyes trained on Octavia the entire time
>The lyrics you wrote are... strange, yes, but you really hope she understands
>The song crescendoes as the other ponies join in, the sound of their instruments layering over yours
>Even from the distance, you can see tears streaking down Octavia's face
>...and down yours as well
>You continue on, despite them, playing your song through until its end
>As you strike the last chord, a hush falls over the audience
>For a moment, you're afraid they didn't like it, and that you just embarrassed the hell out of yourself
>Then, slowly at first, ponies begin to applaud
>All around you, you see ponies smiling and cheering through tears
>Derpy's comforting Soarin as he bawls, and Fancy gives you a small, gentlemanly salute
>Even the princess herself gives you some dainty applause, after wiping at her eyes
>But, as uplifting as their reactions are, there's one pony you want to see more than any of them
>It takes a moment to find Octavia in the crowd again, but there she is
>She's smiling even as she cries
>You fling down your guitar, and jump into the crowd of ponies
>All around you they scream and shout, grabbing at you with outstretched hooves
>But you force your way through, until you see her
>Octavia looks so genuinely delighted to see you, and being so close to her again is like opium coursing through your veins
>You step toward her, arms outstretched, ready to embrace the little gray mare
>Until the hulking white form of Andante materializes from the crowd, grabbing Octavia with a muscular foreleg
>"Agh!"
"No!"
>Octavia panics, and struggles to free herself from the stallion's grasp
>You charge toward him, but he ducks back into the crowd, and the excited ponies swarm around you once more
>They grasp at you as you do your best to wade through them without trampling anyone
>Andante is outdistancing you somehow, somehow causing more ponies to step into your path, slowing you
>You can't tell where he's dragging Octavia to, but you don't think it's anywhere good
>Looking over your shoulder, you try to find Princess Celestia, hoping she'll intervene somehow
>But she's nowhere to be seen
>Dammit, you'd thought the pony goddess would be more helpful than this
>Andante drags Octavia through a small, roped-off doorway in the back of the ballroom
>The ponies continue to surge around and follow you, their cheering completely drowning out Octavia's cries for help
>You finally break away from them, pushing yourself into a full sprint toward the door, flinging it open and continuing your chase
>The door opens into a small staircase, and Andante begins lugging Octavia up it
>His hoof is clamped over her mouth now, and he glares at you as you begin climbing after him
>He moves with surprising agility up the rest of the staircase, disappearing through another door
>The lock clicks shut
>You reach the door and pound your fists against it, trying to force it open
>Stepping back, you aim your leg just to the left of the handle, and slam a kick into the wood
>The door bends inward under the first strike, cracks on the second, and your third kick sends it flying open
>You run into the room, scanning frantically for any sign of Octavia
>Neither of them are in there
>What the hell?
"Octavia? OCTAVIA?!"
>Where the hell did she go?!
>You scan the room again, looking for any little detail out of place...
>The window
>The window is still slightly ajar
>You pull the glass panel open, feeling the frigid night air wash over you
>Below you, there's a stone ledge sticking out a few feet from the palace wall
>You're about to step out onto the ledge, when you hear a voice behind you
>"Anon! Where are you going?"
>It's Soarin, with Derpy close behind
"He's got Octavia! I've gotta follow him."
>"We called the guards. Just wait!"
"No. I have to do this myself."
>You're not sure why you have to do it yourself, but as soon as you say it you know it's true
>"Wait!"
>Soarin tries to grab you, but you've already leapt out onto the ledge
>A jolt travels up your legs as your feet hit the stone
>The ledge only extends a few feet to your left, but on your right it continues along the wall, following the curvature of the rest of the palace
>Well, at least you know which way to go...
>Soarin calls again for you to wait, but you've already taken off after Andante
>You run for several hundred feet until you reach the other end of the ledge, where it connects to a small terrace
>Andante stands at the terrace's edge, holding Octavia precariously close
>You stop dead in your tracks at the sight
>Andante grins confidently at you, jostling Octavia a little
>"You've overstepped your boundaries, ape."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
>"Are you really too stupid to realize? This city is no place for an animal like you. And you especially don't deserve to perform with a prize like her."
>He shakes Octavia again for emphasis
>Her legs struggle weakly against him, but you can tell his strength easily overpowers hers
"Look, just put her down, and we can talk this out."
>His grin widens
>"Oh, it's not going to be that simple. You see, I know most of the guards here by name. If the mare I've been friends and coworkers with for years gets thrown off this ledge here, and only you and I were here to witness it... who do you think they're going to blame? One of the best-known, most-trusted stallions in this city? Or the monkey who's been competing with Octavia for attention from day one?"
>His words chill you more than the freezing wind ever could, and Octavia's eyes go wide with fear
>Her struggling increases, and she tries to free her mouth from behind his hoof
"You wouldn't..."
>"I won't. Assuming you cooperate, that is."
>Fuck, fuck, fuck
>What do you do?
>For now, if you can keep him talking, maybe help will arrive...
"Cooperate? Cooperate with what?"
>"Are you really this stupid? I want you out of here, monkey. You don't belong in Equestria, much less this city."
"So it was you who sent the Trinity."
>"Sent? No, I'd never stoop so low. I merely gave them a little push in the right direction."
"Okay then. So... I leave, and you put her down, correct?"
>Andante nods
>"Of course. I wouldn't want to damage such a valuable, precious little thing, now would I?"
>He shakes Octavia again
>You can't bear to watch him toy with her like this, but if you attack him...
>That's an awfully long fall for a little pony
>Fuck, what do you do?
>There's no sign of help anywhere; Derpy and Soarin are probably talking to the guards
>The guards Andante is apparently on a first-name basis with
"Alright. You win. I'll go."
>You turn, and begin to walk back away from the terrace
>"Oh, I didn't mean leave like that way, ape. It's much too late for that."
>You turn back to him, noticing that his smile has an uncomfortable hungry gleam to it
"What do you mean?"
>Andante nods his head toward the edge of the terrace
>"You had your chance to leave with your life. But now... you get to make a choice. You, or her?"
>Andante steps closer to the ledge, to the point where Octavia is practically dangling off
>Shit
>Your brain seems to halt and stutter, unable to process exactly what's going on before you
>Is he... does he mean...?
>He does
>You love Octavia, you really do
>Can you die for her?
>Can you really do this?
>You take a slow, shaky step toward the terrace
>Octavia screams something to you, but it's muffled by Andante's hoof
>"Good boy. You wouldn't want a prize like her to die for filth like you, right?"
>You peer over the edge
>Damn, it's a long way down
>A sheen of sweat breaks out all over your body, despite the freezing cold
>Can you really do this?
>There has to be another way, right?
>You look over at Andante, and he dangles Octavia a bit more over the edge
>"Ten seconds. Make your choice."
>Okay, okay, this is it
>This is the end
>Honestly, you didn't think it'd go this way
>During your last song, you really thought there was a chance
>"Nine."
>But... here you are
>"Eight."
>Strange, you never imagined things would go this way when you first met Octavia
>"Seven."
>But... this is good
>"Six."
>If you're going to have to die for someone, you'd want it to be someone like her
>"Five."
>Unbidden, a smile forms on your lips
>"Four."
>Andante's right, she is a prize
>One you didn't deserve
>"Three."
>But if you're dying for a girl like her, you can die happy
>"Two."
>You take another step towards the ledge, your toes only a few inches from empty air
>The air howls and grabs at your clothes
>This is it
>"O-- AGH!"
>You whirl at the sudden sound, terrified and thinking Andante might have dropped Octavia preemptively
>Instead, you see Octavia on the ground, with Andante clutching his foreleg, where a bite mark oozes blood out onto his pearly white coat
>Andante's calm demeanor is gone now, and rage burns red-hot in his eyes
>"How dare you?! You little--"
>Octavia's barely managed to clamber to her hooves, gasping and coughing
>"You little wretch!"
>Andante whips his fist across Octavia's face with an audible *smack*, sending her body flying across the terrace
>Immediately, it's as if a red hazy descended over your vision
>Bellowing in rage, you charge toward Andante, fists flying in a effort to punch every inch of the stallion you can reach
>It's like hitting a brick wall
>He backs up for a second, initially surprised by your attack, but quickly recovers
>Andante moves with blinding speed, landing several punches on you in rapid succession
>It feels as if several small bombs just detonated inside your chest
>The fury of his attack knocks you backwards, and your arms pinwheel to keep you from toppling off the ledge
>With horrifying, almost mechanical precision, Andante strikes you quickly in the head, leg, and shoulder, collapsing you to the ground
>Pain burns hot all over your body, and it's all you can do to escape before he knocks you over the side of the terrace
>Andante strides toward you as you back along the terrace, dragging your body along with legs too pained to support you
>What the hell is this guy?
>You feign to the right, and Andante falls for it, allowing you to spring up and attack him again
>You drive your fist right into his face, hoping to at least stagger him
>But, instead, you feel something pop inside your hand, and jump backward, howling and clutching your fingers
>Andante just grins
>Maybe it's just the light, but his eyes no longer look like a pony's eyes
>They look like the eyes of a hungry shark: soulless, and black
>You limp backwards, away from him, breath ragged
>"You're tougher than I thought you'd be. But surely you realize already how this is going to end?"
>You grit your teeth, trying your best to swallow the pain that threatens to drag you back down
>He's right
>There's no way this is going to end well for you
>Whatever the hell Andante is... he has you beaten
>"There's still a chance to save her, you know. Just give yourself up, and I promise I'll never hurt her again."
>Your hands scrabble over your body, searching for some kind of weapon
>There's nothing
>It's just you, your wits, and your fists
>And it seems like Andante has you outmatched on everything
>His eyes are like deep, dark pits as he stares into you, daring to make a move
>You take the dare
"Yaaaaaaagh!"
>You charge headlong into him again, swinging for his face, his nose, his withers, any area you think might have some sort of weakness
>Andante just laughs, not even attempting to avoid the blows
>A punch to his neck nearly breaks your wrist
>As you pull your hand away, gasping in pain, your fingers tangle in his girly haircut, tugging against it
>"Agh! What are you-- AAAGH!"
>You jerk your hand away, ripping a tuft of his mane out
>Andante howls in pain, before slamming a hoof into your stomach
>It feels like getting hit by a car
>Your body is thrown clear across the terrace, hitting the palace wall and sliding down to lie next to Octavia
>Stars swim in your vision, and you ache so terribly you wonder if you'll ever move again
>Andante turns to face the two of you, half of his face covered in loose, frayed strands of pony hair
>And damn, you've never seen anyone look so mad
>You shift your body to cover Octavia, hoping you can at least offer some modest protection from Andante's wrath
>She stirs weakly, her nose bleeding and her left cheek badly bruised
>"Anon?"
"Hey Tavi."
>You smile weekly at her, even though your mouth is smeared with your own blood
>"Don't... don't do this anymore, Anon. Let me talk to him."
>She flips herself onto her stomach, face peeking out from under your chest
>"Dante, please. I'll go on the tour, I'll do whatever it is you need, just please... please don't hurt him."
>Andante pauses to fix his mane, face still twisted in rage
>"Oh, it's much too late for that. Both of you are going to meet your end here, tonight. And after that... I saw you had a little gray friend in there, Anonymous. I think some of my friends will pay her a little visit next. And Tavi... I haven't seen your parents in a while."
>Octavia's eyes go wide with shock
>"No... you can't... no..."
>You're feeling about the same way
>This fucker needs to be stopped
>Who knows how many ponies he's ruined, or ended, the lives of so far?
>How many more is he going to destroy
>You stare into those soulless, evil black eyes, filled with nothing but malice and hatred
>And you know what you have to do
>You can't beat him in a fight, you know that much
>But there's one thing he's not going to expect
>You look back down at Octavia
>"Anon?"
>You choke a little, realizing this is the last time you'll ever see her
"Fly away, Tavi. Fly away."
>And get to your feet, shakily, swallowing the agony engulfing you
>Screaming, you charge headfirst into Andante
>He stands there, waiting for an attack that won't come
>Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, the momentum carrying the two of you across the ledge
>And, together, the two of you topple off the ledge, and into oblivion
 
>Well, here you are, plummeting to your death
>Strangely, you feel incredibly calm
>There's nothing more to the world but you, the air, and the ground as it rushes up to meet you
>It's pretty surreal; you never really thought you'd have an ending like this
>But here you are
>Andante's shouting something next to you, but you can't hear him over the rushing wind
>He's clearly not taking this as well as you are
>You close your eyes, waiting for the impact of your body with the ground...
 
"Oof!"
>Well, that wasn't so bad
>Wait a minute, what...?
>You open your eyes in time to realize that you're currently hurtling in the exact opposite direction
>The frozen ground is rapidly shrinking away from you as Andante continues to plummet toward it
>You close your eyes when his body makes contact, and fortunately the rushing wind muffles the sound
>When you open them again, nothing is left of the stallion but a black splotch at the base of Canterlot's mountain
>Only then do you look up for your rescuer
>Or, rescuers, rather
>Derpy and Soarin each have their forelegs wrapped under your arms, wings straining as they haul you into the sky
>You're so happy to see them, you can't help but cheer for joy
>Derpy smiles back, and Soarin just nods
>They drag you up through the air, and back onto the terrace
>You never realized how much you appreciate the solid ground
>As soon as you touch down, you sink to your knees, embracing the concrete beneath you
>"Anon!"
>Octavia sprints toward you
>You outstretch your arms, waiting for her embrace
>Instead, she slaps you across the face
"Ow! What the hell?!"
>"You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?! You could have died! And then I'd... I'd... ah!"
>She throws herself on top of you, wrapping her forelegs around your neck in the tightest hug you've ever experienced
>Which you, of course, return
>Octavia breaks down sobbing as she hugs you, alternating between telling you how glad she is you're alive, and how much she hates you for almost dying
>You're getting a little teary eyes yourself as you stroke her back
>She's here
>There's nothing more to tear you apart
>No more Andante, no more tours, no more Canterlot high-life
>It's just the two of you, together
>You don't think you've ever been this happy before
>Octavia nuzzles against your neck, her teary eyes leaving wet splotches on your neck
>"Never do that to me again, you stupid..."
"I don't plan on-- mmf"
>She sniffles, and suddenly kisses you on the mouth, her lips quivering
>You kiss her back, relishing her warmth, your own life, and the simple fact that, for right now, everything's okay
 
>When Octavia breaks the embrace, Soarin and Derpy help to carry you back inside the palace
>The warm interior is a refreshing change from the frigid cold outside
>However, it doesn't do much to change the fact that you think every bone in your body is broken
>The two pegasi carry you to a couch in the corner of a private room, before leaving with promises of fetching help
>Octavia stays with you, of course, curling up against your side
>You lazily scratch her ears, and take one of her hooves in your other hand
>"Anon?"
"Hmm?"
>"When you um... when you were about to jump, for me, I realized something..."
"Oh?"
>"I... I love you."
>You raise a hand to her cheek
"Why do you think I was going to jump? I love you too, Tavi."
>You don't think any kiss could be as radiant as the one you and Octavia share then
 
>When Derpy and Soarin return, it's with the goddamn princess herself in tow
>From up close, she seems to glow with some restrained light, and the room grows slightly warmer with her presence
>She has a hundred questions for you, of course
>You try your best to be patient in answering them, even though your chest aches worse with every word you speak
>She asks for every single detail of Andante's abuse of Octavia, the fight, and the history of you two beforehand
>Afterwards, she inspects your wounds as well, a concerned expression on her face
>Fortunately, by the time she's done the interrogation, she seems to believe you
>Eventually, Celestia follows Derpy and Soarin outside to inspect where Andante landed
>When they return, Celestia looks visibly shaken, though she refuses to answer what's bothering her
>"Just... just be glad you don't have to see this... pony, again."
>The way she says 'pony' unnerves you a little, but you're glad to see she believes you
 
>A time of doctors arrive later, tending to your and Octavia's wounds as best they can, before suggesting that you check in at Canterlot general for the several broken bones you've sustained
>You do, of course, and spend the next two days in a hospital bed
>Each of your friends come to visit you at least once, multiple times for Derpy and Soarin, and Octavia is there almost constantly
>When you're released, you find yourself trying to answer that ever-present question of "what now?"
 
>"What do you mean 'what now?'"
"I mean what the hell now? You don't have an apartment anymore, mine's been almost completely trashed, your old manager's dead, your tour got cancelled... what now?"
>"Come on, Anon. Are you really worried about stuff like this?"
>Octavia pauses in the middle of the bridge, peering over the guard rail at the lead-colored water below
>The two of you are out for a walk in your favorite park, at Octavia's request
"I dunno, it's just... I want things to go right, Octavia."
>You join her at the rail, kneeling down and pulling her close against your body
>She nuzzles your neck with her snout
>"Why wouldn't they? You're here, I'm here, we're safe now. As long as that's true, everything will work out in the end."
>You kiss her forehead
"I guess you're right. Still, I'd like to find a place for us to stay..."
>Octavia fake sighs, then suddenly takes off running
>She slips effortlessly over the snow and frozen ground, with you in hot pursuit
>Octavia leads you into an open field, and whirls around, sending a perfectly-formed snowball soaring right into your gut
>It explodes into frigid white powder, but you take no notice, as you're already stooping to form your own snowball
>Octavia sprints away, trying to take cover amongst a row of dying hedges, but you peg her on the rump before she gets there
>She falls face first into the snow
>You're laughing so hard your throat hurts
>Octavia stands and sticks her tongue out at you, before charging and tackling you into the snow
>The two of you roll over and over each other, ending up in a snowy, tangled heap
>Both of you are breathless, unable to do anything but laugh as you stare into the slate-gray sky
>That night, Octavia moves in with you
 
>Because you're almost broke and kinda lazy, it's another two weeks before the window's fixed
>Fortunately though, a freezing house means a lot of time spent wrapped in a thick blanket, cuddled up against your new marefriend
 
>With Andante gone, you and Octavia resume working for Fancy, and the crossover album is moving along smoothly
>You and Octavia have your little arguments about which direction the various pieces should go in, but you suppose that's to be expected
>All in all, you're more proud of it than anything else you've ever created
 
>A week before the record is set to release, you show up at Soarin's apartment
>It's late Spring now, and the air is so fresh and warm and full of life that you find yourself trying to pull as much of it into your lungs as you can
>Soarin opens the door, and his face lights up when he sees you
>"Anon! What's up, man?"
>He punches your shoulder, and ushers you in
>You smile at the sight
>He's been so much happier ever since--
>"Hiya, Anon!"
>Derpy flutters out from the kitchen, wearing a flower-stained apron
"Hey Derpy. What's in the oven tonight?"
>"Blueberry muffins. Your favorite!"
>You wrap Derpy in a hug, and proceed into the kitchen, where a tray of blueberry muffins is indeed baking in the oven
 
>After the muffins have been consumed, the three of you sit around the table, making smalltalk about everyone's jobs and Canterlot life in general
>But that's not what you're here for
"Um, Soarin? Derpy? Could I share something with you?"
>Immediately the conversation halts, and both of them look to you, intrigued
>"Sure."
>"What is it, Anon?"
"Well, I've been giving it some thought, and... I'm going to ask Octavia to marry me."
>Soarin pats you on the back with an enthusiastic 'yeah!' and Derpy just about leaps into the air, clapping her hooves
>"When you gonna pop the big question?"
"Well, I was thinking next Thursday. We're having a big show together for the record's release, and I thought it seemed... fitting."
>"Of course! You picked out a ring yet?"
>You nod
>You'd had a ring specially engraved with her cutie mark just for the occasion
 
>Thursday comes, and all the hard work you and Octavia have put into the show pays off
>The audience at Quarter Note's is, understandably, completely floored, and they shower praise and adoration on you and Octavia as the curtain falls
>Soarin and Derpy watch you, expectantly
>You shake your head at them
>This isn't something you're going to make a spectacle out of
>Instead, you stop Octavia as the two of you begin to head back to the dressing room
"Tavi? Can you follow me up onto the roof real quick?"
>"What for?"
"Just trust me. C'mon."
>Octavia hesitates for a second, then follows you up the ladder, and out onto the top of the club
"Crazy, isn't it?"
>You stand at the edge, looking out over the city
>"I guess. We've come a long way, haven't we?"
"A damn long way. And, Octavia... this is the happiest I've ever been in my life. I mean, just think about it, a weird alien thing like me gets dropped into this perfect little world, doesn't know where to go, what to do... and then I meet you. And after meeting you, everything makes sense. It's all so... I don't even have the words for it. It's just all so amazing. And on top of it all, there's you. Octavia, I..."
>You're rambling, get to the point
"I don't ever want this to end. I want to spend the rest of my life in this crazy little world with you."
>You remove the ring case from your back pocket, and flick it open
"Octavia..."
>Well, you can guess how the rest of it goes
 
CODA