>You are Octavius
>And you have just finished climbing halfway up a mountain not far from Canterlot, your cello case in tow
>You pause as you scan your surroundings, breathing in the fresh mountain air as you crack open your cello case
>Pulling the unwieldy instrument out, you sigh contentedly, finding a seat on a nearby boulder
>It isn't often that you have time to practice alone outdoors these days, especially with the paparazzi on your arse like they are now
>You start by plucking each of your cello's strings, ensuring it's in-tune
>Happy that it is, you decide to start things off with something slow
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCicM6i59_I[/spoiler]
>As you approach the end of the piece, however, a shadowy figure manifests itself before you
>The shadows dissipate, revealing its mismatched anatomy as it climbs up upon a nearby tree-stump
"Eris...?"
>Though this is the first time you've met the demon in person, you instantly recognise her from your old schoolbooks
"Th'bloody hell are you doin' up here? Fuck off, I'm tryin' t'practice."
>The chimera merely cackles at you in response. "Oh, Octavius, Octavius... I'm here to make you an offer."
"An offer?"
>You raise an eyebrow at her, highly wary of her motives
"What kind of offer are we talkin' here?"
>"Oh, nothing much," she explains before snapping her fingers, summoning a golden cello case. "It's just, I fancy myself a bit of a cello player too. And," she adds, opening the case, "I'd be willing to bet this little trinket to prove it."
"Alright. But what if I lose?"
>A wry smile crosses Eris's lips. "Not much," she says, "just your soul."
"Me soul?"
 
>You scoff at her suggestion
"Bugger off. I don't need t'prove m'self to you. Keep y'bloody cello."
>You turn your back on the draconequus, sneering
"Prob'ly sounds like shit anyway."
>The chimera frowns deeply at you, her brows furrowed. "Fine," she concedes, disappearing in a puff of smoke
"Th'fuck...?"
>She reappears a second later, a white-coated mare held in her claw by the scruff of the neck. "Perhaps I should raise the stakes. Your soul for the golden cello... and your girlfriend's life."
>The mare groggily blinks her eyes a few times, flailing wildly the moment she realises she's no longer in bed. "'Tavius! What the fuck's happening, dude?"
"First off, she ain't me girlfriend. Second, if you don't fuckin' let her go right this second, I swear on me mum-"
>"That what," Eris interrupts, mocking you. "You'll hook me in the gabber, whatever that is? Oh, please, Octavius..."
>She traps Vinyl in an energy bubble before disappearing again, reappearing on your shoulder in shrunken form
>"How exactly do you propose to do that?"
>Furious, you bring your hoof down upon her as hard as you can
>However, she disappears at the last second, leaving you with nothing but a nasty shoulder bruise as she reappears on your opposite side
>"Over here," she taunts, pulling a face as you try again to crush her
>And once more, your efforts amount to nothing as she vanishes, reappearing at full size on the stump she was on before
>"So, Octavius," she asks, tapping her fingers together in a Burns-esque manner, "do we have an agreement?"
>You grumble, defeated
"I guess I don't have much of a bloody choice now, do I?"
>Eris grins broadly, clapping once. "Excellent! Now, ladies first!"
 
>She draws the golden cello and its bow out of its case, along with a chunk of rosin
>Her paw gives off a fiery glow as she runs the rosin up and down her bow, prepping it
>With that done, she proceeds to draw the bow once across the strings, eliciting a horrid screech as she checks the tuning
>Satisfied, she gets the bow into position with her lion's paw whilst stretching the draconic fingers on her opposite arm, wrapping them around the cello's neck
>Just as she's about to start playing, another puff of smoke appears behind Eris
>Through the haze, you spot what looks like an animated mare's corpse on the piano
>Or rather, bits and pieces of various mares - and possibly a stallion or two - sewn together to approximate the form of a single pony
>"Flight of the Bumblebee. Ready, Mismatch?"
>"Ready, Eris!"
>Without further ado, the two abominations begin their frantic, intense piece without skipping a single beat
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gnKFR6iMPU[/spoiler]
>You stare intently at Eris's movements, analysing her playing style
>The piece is over before you know it, however, leaving you deeply unsatisfied
"So. That it?"
>You blink, unmoved
"Lemme show y'how it's bloody well done in Trottingham, cunt."
>Taking a deep breath to gird yourself, you prop up your cello between your thighs before bringing your bow down onto the strings, unleashing the most complex piece you know
 
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgAurilSDXQ[/spoiler]
>You race through scales at impossible speeds between the slower interludes whilst your dexterous hooves make the parallel octaves look like child's play
>Eris and Patchwork stare at you, dumbstruck, as you blitz through the piece with seemingly no effort whatsoever
>Even the left-hoof pizzicato doesn't give you pause as you play each plucked note with perfect precision
>Your pace slows down as you approach the end, taking liberty with the rests for drama's sake
>As the final note rings out, you look up at Eris, staring daggers into her eyes
>Staring back at you, her attempt at a poker face falls flat
>She shakes her head, resigned to her defeat
>Snapping her fingers, Eris pops Vinyl's containment bubble before floating the golden cello and its case over to you
>"This isn't the last you'll hear of me, Octavius," she calls as she fades into smoke. "Mark my words...!"
"Whatever, mate. On your fuckin' bike."
>With Eris out of the picture, you immediately rush to Vinyl's side, holding her in your hooves
"Vinyl, mate. You alright?"
>"Yeah, dude, I'm fine," she answers, her face now flushed bright red. "Thanks to you..."
>You stare deeply into her bright magenta eyes as you feel your heart race
>The mare in your hooves licks her lips in response, half-closing her eyes as she raises her head towards yours
>You do likewise, puckering your lips as you start to lean down
 
>Halfway there, however, you start to feel the ground shake
"Bloody hell, what's happenin' now...?"
>The quake intensifies as Vinyl slips loose from your grip
>Though you try to maintain steady footing, the ground has other ideas, throwing you back and forth
>Eventually, your hoof smacks into a nearby rock, sending you careening face-first into the ground
>As you're about to make contact, however, you wake up, shooting bolt-upright on the couch
>A heavy bass beat thunders through the floor as Vinyl watches over you, snickering
>You look over towards her, your eyes bleary
"Vinyl...?"
>"Morning, 'Tavius," she says, taking a step towards you as she turns off the music. "Sleep well?"
>You scrunch your face into a frown
"Well, I -was- sleepin' well until y'bloody well had t'wake me up with that racket."
>Vinyl smirks mischievously at you in response. "Oh, I bet you were," she teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. "Dreaming about your groupies, were ya?"
"Uh..."
>You avert your eyes, petrified of the idea of telling Vinyl the truth
"Yeah. Sure, mate. Somethin' like that."
>Before she can probe further, you try to change the subject
"Anyway, Vinyl, what's the go with the early wake-up? What is it, bloody six bong?"
>Your friend shakes her head. "Dude," she answers, "it's nearly nine."
"Oh. Well, bugger me, then."
>"Yeah. Also, your breakfast is getting cold."
"Wait... y'made me brekkie?"
>You blink in surprise as your frown fades
>"Yeah," she explains, "eggs and waffles. Come on!"
>Slowly, you force yourself off of the couch as Vinyl trots off to the kitchen
 
>Your friend levitates a pair of plates and a rolled-up newspaper over to the table as you take your seat
>A gigantic, square waffle slathered with raspberry jam dominates the centre of your plate
>It's flanked by two fried eggs, each held in shape by a capsicum slice egg-ring
>You pause for a moment, smiling as the scent of the meal wafts up to your nose
>Afterwards, you put your inexplicable Earth Pony dexterity to work, taking hold of your knife and fork
>Carving up the waffle, you pop a bite-sized piece into your mouth
"Hmmm..."
>You chew slowly, taking your time to appreciate the flavour before swallowing
>It's an interesting combination, the sweetness and tartness of the raspberries blending with the spices mixed into the waffle batter
>You're also fairly certain you can taste a hint of frangipani in there
"This is... good. Thanks, Vinyl."
>With her cheeks stuffed, Vinyl struggles to swallow before answering
>"Yeah, it's my mom's old recipe," she says, sighing. "Pretty sure she does a way better job of it than I do, though."
"I dunno, mate. Seems bloody noice t'me."
>"Yeah, 'nice'," she shoots back, making air-quotations as her knife and fork levitate in front of her. "Not 'utterly mind-blowing'."
>You give your friend a quick shrug
"Maybe I'll have t'pay your mum's place a visit some time, then."
>Vinyl wrings her hooves. "Yeah," she mumbles, awkwardness clear in her voice, "I don't think that's gonna happen."
>Your heart skips a beat as you immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion
"Wait... Don't tell me she's, y'know..."
>You gulp as you try to squeak out the last word
"...dead?"
 
>"Nah, she's still kicking, dude."
"Oh, thank Celestia for that."
>You breathe a sigh of relief, glad you haven't struck that particular nerve
>"She's... just kind of a huge racist," she adds, nervously gauging your reaction
"She what, mate?"
>"Yeah, she has a massive bug up her ass when it comes to Earth Ponies," Vinyl continues. "Dunno why."
>You do your best to maintain your cool, not wanting to raise your voice at the table
"Vinyl."
>"Yeah, 'Tavius?"
"Sorry for what I'm about t'say, but..."
>"But... what?"
"Y'mum sounds like a narrow-minded cunt."
>Against all your expectations, your friend chuckles at this accusation
"She can be sometimes, yeah," she answers, unpertubed. "Oh man, if she knew we were friends, she'd be so -pissed-!"
"Wait..."
>You raise an eyebrow in disbelief at your friend as she continues to laugh to herself
"She... doesn't know you're best mates with a world-famous musician?"
>"Hey, not like she -needs- to know," Vinyl answers, her attention starting to turn back to her food as her laughter calms down. "You're my bud, not hers."
"Righto, then."
>You do likewise, getting through half of your waffle and one of your eggs before noticing then newspaper on the table
>Reaching out, you grab it before sliding the rubber band off
>As you unfurl the paper and lay your eyes on the front page, your hooves immediately begin to shake as you grit your teeth
>"What's wrong, 'Tavius?"
"What's wrong?"
>You take in a sharp breath as you barely manage to contain your emotions
>Pushing your half-empty plate to the side, you slap the paper down onto the table
"-This- is what's fuckin' wrong, mate."
 
>Right there on the front page is a photo of you and Vinyl embracing on the floor of Pony Joe's Tavern
>Beneath it, the headline blares, "The One Stallion Orchestra: A Lone Wolf No Longer?"
>In the corner of the picture, you can make out Vinyl's discarded EponyPen
>"Dude..."
"I know, right? I mean, I hate th'press enough as is. Those cunts never leave me alone. They're always makin' up bloody ridiculous stories about me."
>Your lip starts to shake as you feel your grip on your temper slipping
"But this... this is worse. Not only are they draggin' you into this, they're bein' fuckin' monsters about it too."
>Vinyl looks at you in shock. "Monsters? That's a bit... harsh, isn't it?"
"NO!"
>You stop yourself as you notice Vinyl recoiling at your outburst
"No. It isn't. Think about it."
>You point to the photo, running your hoof along an edge
"This photo was prob'ly taken from a tripod. Which means that they had plenty of time t'set up."
>Your hooves begin to shake again as rage pours through every inch of your body
"So, they likely did up the camera not long after we sat down. Which means that, when you started chokin' and havin' y'reaction..."
>You start to breathe heavily as you feel your left eye twitch
"Their first thought wasn't, 'oh, I should call an ambo', or 'oh, what's happenin', I'm gonna go and see if somethin's gone pear-shaped and stand around and be all concerned-lookin'...' or some other -normal- pony reaction."
>Vinyl's eyes go wide in shock as you finally lose all semblance of control
"No, their first thought was, 'oh hey, Octavius's mate looks like she's about t'fuckin' cark it. Let's stay ready to take a fuckin' pic! SO WE CAN MAKE UP SOME RETARDED STORY ABOUT IT FOR THE PAPERS TOMORROW! FUCK COMMON PONY DECENCY!'
>You slam your hoof down on the table, cracking the glass tabletop and making the plates and glasses jump
"Those paparazzi aren't ponies. They're bloody monsters is what they are..."
 
>Drained from your outburst, you bury your head into your hooves as you continue to rant
"They were monsters when ol' Princess Blueblood got caught up in that carriage prang in Canterlot years back and got in the way of the medics, and they're fuckin' monsters now..."
>As you stew in your own fury, you barely hear the sound of hoofsteps on the kitchen tiles before you feel a familiar hoof on your shoulder
>"It's alright, dude," you hear Vinyl say, her voice shaky. "I'm pissed off too."
>You start to feel yourself calm down, glad that, at the very least, your friend understands you
"Thanks..."
>You look at the table, taking in the damage from your outburst
"And... sorry 'bout the table, mate. I'll, uh... get you a new one."
>Vinyl smiles down softly at you, shaking her head once. "You don't have to do that, dude," she answers. "That old thing was on its last legs anyways."
"I know, but I'd still like to. Not like I'm skint much these days."
>"If you insist, dude. Thanks."
>The two of you remain silent for a short while, thinking everything over as Vinyl resumes her seat
>A silence which you eventually decide to break
"I just wish there was somethin'... anythin' I could do to teach these cunts a lesson."
>"Yeah..."
>Suddenly, a grin spreads across Vinyl's face
>"Hey, 'Tavius," she says excitedly. "I just had an idea for how we could get back at them."
"Oh?"
>You look back at your friend, curious
"What kind of idea we talkin' 'bout here?"
 
>"It's..." Vinyl raises her hoof as she starts to speak before suddenly lowering it, shaking her head. "Nah... It's a dumb idea. Forget I said anything, dude."
>This, of course, only piques your curiosity further
"Come on, Vinyl. Just say it."
>Shifting her eyes away uncomfortably, Vinyl remains silent
"Whatever it is, I won't make fun of you for it."
>It's a few more seconds before she finally answers
>"...Promise?"
"Course, mate. Promise."
>"Okay. Well..." Vinyl says, still hesitant, "the press are starting to think we're some kind of item, right?"
>You nod
"Right."
>"What if we, you know... played along?"
>Your eyes go wide as your friend's words register in your head
>Is she suggesting what you think she's suggesting?
"What... do y'mean by that, mate?"
 
>"What I mean," she explains, "is that we -pretend- to date. Give the press what they need to make up some dumb whirlwind fairytale romance story about us, without actually saying anything to them."
>You raise an eyebrow at Vinyl, uncertain of where she's going with this
>"And then," she adds, "just when they're frothing at the mouth for more..."
"Yeah...?"
>"You go onto some TV talk-show or do a press conference or something, and tell everypony it was all made up, and that those assholes were chasing nothing the whole time."
"Hm..."
>Raising a hoof to your chin, you contemplate Vinyl's idea for a moment
"So, you're suggestin' we get th'press into a tizzy over us as a... a prank?"
>"Yeah," Vinyl answers, her tone fading, "I know, I know... It's a dumb idea."
>You shrug, cracking a half-smile
"I dunno, mate. Better than mine, at least."
>"Wait, what was yours?"
"Uh..."
>You almost shudder as an image of you and Vinyl cornering a lone, terrified paparazza in a dark alley enters your mind
"Let's just say it'd prob'ly land both of us in th'Clink."
>"Oh, okay. Yeah, let's not do that."
>The two of you share a light chuckle in agreement
>"So wait," she comes back, stifling her laughter, "you're... cool with my plan?"
 
"Sure. I mean, if we're gonna be hangin' out again with the press on our arses anyway, may as well fuck with 'em a smidge while we're at it."
>Running your hoof absentmindedly along the crack in the table you made earlier, a thought suddenly hits you
"Wait. Vinyl."
>"Yeah, dude?"
"If we're gonna be lettin' th'press see us together more, won't your mum eventually find out?"
>Worried, you look down at the newspaper for a second before turning your attention back to your friend
"I mean, assumin' she doesn't already read th'Manehattan Mail. It's bad enough havin' th'press on our arses, but I'd rather not have y'mum comin' for me head too."
>You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you speak
"Or me bollocks, for that matter..."
>"I'll handle her, dude," Vinyl answers, exuding total confidence. "Don't worry."
"Alright, mate. If you say so..."
>You grab your plate, bringing it back in-front of you before getting your cutlery back in order
"So, uh, with this fake-datin' stuff... Y'have any ideas for where we could go?"