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Chapter One2,785 words
Chapter 22,505 words

Chapter 2

"Ain't ya gonna stay an’ say hi to your uncle?" the stallion asks, taking off his hat to reveal a smiling amber face.

"Sorry, can't stay I'm afraid," I say hastily, looking up into his sap green eyes. "Mum and dad will be expecting me home soon."

"That's not what I heard," my uncle says, scratching his chin with a thoughtful expression. "Last time ah checked, you're livin’ on the streets."

"Well, everything changes in time," I chuckle nervously, lying before I could stop myself.

"Now let’s just stop lying for a second," my uncle says, barring my way through the door. "We both know yer parents disowned ya for trashin their family name."

"Ho-" I begin, but am cut off by my uncle.

"I'd recommend that you just wait a couple of minutes for this fine establishment to close so we can have ourselves a proper truthful conversation," he suggests, even though it's not a suggestion.

"I really must be going," I say frantically, desperate to get away as my stomach rumbles loudly. "Need to find somewhere to sleep for the night."

"At least stay for dinner," my uncle insists, even though once again he's really just telling me too. "By the sound your tummy's makin, I'd reckon you haven't eatin in days now Tavi!"

"Well, I guess it can't hurt anything," I say slowly, not sure how to respond to the offer at hoof.

"Well now, that settles it!" my uncle exclaims happily, throwing a leg around my neck before guiding me back into the crowd. "I hear that Royal Crescent here makes sum good Pumpkin Curry Soup, with pumpkins from mah orchard nonetheless."

"Must be why it's so good," I suggest hesitantly as we make our way through the crowd while Royal Crescent hops up onto the stage.

"Aw shucks, our little orchard’s pumpkins ain't that good hun," my uncle says happily, pushing a white stallion dressed in red, white, and blue out of our way.

"So," I begin nervously, as my uncle calls for a bartender to get him a glass of whiskey. "How has Sterling been?"

A shadow casts over my my uncles face. "She's fine," he sighs as we come up to the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" I ask, a slight hint of fear tainting my normally mellow tone.

"It’s nothin’," my uncle dismisses, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"What is wrong?" I repeat, this time more firmly.

"Ah think she's fallen in love with a mare," he says a bit temperamentally before downing the rest of his whisky.

"So?" I inquire as a bartender asks my uncle if he would like a refill.

"Just bring me the whole bottle," he says, dismissing the stallion with a gesture of his hoof before turning his attention back onto me. "Ah just don't want to see her heart broken."

"Doesn't this mare love her back?" I ask, arching an eyebrow as my uncle thanks the bartender for the whiskey before taking a swig.

"No," he replies coldly, glaring at the counter. "All dat show mare wants is enough bits to get herself back to travelin’ and doin’ her shows."

"Then why're you worried?" I inquire.

"Because ah'm afraid of what'll happen when that mare leaves for good," my uncle says as the bartender comes back with a full bottle of whiskey. "And if dat mare breaks mah little honey crisps heart, she'll be a dead mare."

I flinch from the venom in his voice. "You know you can't protect her forever right?" I ask, as Royal Crescent says goodnight to everyone.

"Ah know," my uncle says bitterly, taking a swig of whiskey.

Neither of us speak as the club empties around us. No one pays us any heed as they rush by, talking to the ponies they came with. I would have thought someone would have at least questioned the site of my uncle with his black leather trench coat barring his orchards trademark symbol, a gala apple with a slice cut out of it. Perhaps black trench coats help you go unnoticed. But I should be happy that he draws nobodies attention as the last of the stragglers empty out through the clubs doors, leaving only Royal Crescent, my uncle, the DJ who's packing up her stuff, and myself in the small club.

"Mind sticking around for something to eat Vinyl?" Royal Crescent calls over to the DJ.

"Can't. Sorry," Vinyl replies, her head buried in her cardboard box of wires and a bunch of other things. "Gotta hurry up and go if I'm gonna try to contact my agent before tonight's over."

"You sure? Oh well, can't say I didn't try," Royal Crescent says, pretending not to care as he trots towards my uncle and I. "Such a shame, you would've been able to talk to Octavia over a bowl of her favorite soup."

"What, umm, I never said I couldn't stay, did I?" Vinyl says frantically, pulling her head out of her box, a wire hanging from her horn.

"Oh, I dunno," Royal Crescent teases as I allow myself a small giggle at the panicking mare. "What does Octavia here think?"

Scoffing at the club’s owner, I turn my attention onto the DJ, her eyes, a startlingly beautiful ruby red, gleaming with a mixture of hope and fear. Her snowy face bore a shy smile as strands of electric blue hair drift down from her short, choppy two-toned mane; an unusual hairstyle, but one that suits her well. It'd probably look odd on anyone else. Then again, we all have something that makes us unique and special other than our special talents and cutie marks.

"She says yes," my uncle answers for me happily, his voice rough yet gentle as he shoves me off my stool. "Now go talk with someone of your own age while the grown-ups talk am ounce our old decomposing selves."

"I'll get you two bowls for yourself Tavi," Royal Crescent says, playfully nudging me with a hoof on his way to talk to my uncle. "Now go talk to the cities rising star in the universe of wubs."

"Want something to drink Tavi-doll?" my uncle asks, before chugging the rest of his whiskey as if afraid of someone stealing it. "Anything you want besides cider."

"I got a bottle of cloud wine," Royal Crescent suggests, getting the glare of death from my uncle.

"Tavi ain't old enough for that," my uncle scorns Royal Crescent, giving me a sideways glance meaning ‘you got some explaining to do”.

"It's an alcohol free wine," Royal Crescent states, rolling his eyes as if everyone should have known that. "Would you like a glass Vinyl?"

"I'll just take a mug of cider," Vinyl replies, her eyes never wavering from mine as she smiles at me with teeth that would shine in the dark.

"Now, can Tavi here have a glass of cloud wine?" Royal Crescent asks my uncle as I give Vinyl my own little charming smile, causing her to blush softly.

"I'm gonna need another bottle," my uncle says, frowning at his empty one while Royal Crescent gives me a look meaning "I'll make sure you get something nice."

"Thank you," I call over to the bickering adults, before heading off with Vinyl to pass the time. "So Vinyl, would you mind telling me a bit about how you make your music?"

Her face lights up as she begins to explain everything from what the invaluable wires do to her so called mixing boards. Not exactly what I'd call music, but this is a new age where electronic music has taken to popularity throughout all the social classes, or at least I think it has. There was quite a bit of upper class ponies here tonight, but why there were stallions in a fillyfoolers club makes no sense to me whatsoever.

"I also play the violin!" Vinyl exclaims happily, lifting a bobelock hill-style violin case from her cardboard box.

I can understand Vinyl having room for all her wires and whatnot, but where she found room to stuff a violin case of that size in there baffles me. Okay, it's not a bad instrument case, but it's big. I'm pretty sure you could drive a cart over that case and there won't be even a dent in it. Which is a great thing, but how she manages to pack away a case of that size, plus all her equipment, is beyond me.

"How long have you been playing for?" I inquire, taking a closer look at Vinyls magic box of plenty.

"About ten years now," she exclaims happily, a prideful smile spread across her face. "Wanna hear me play?"

"Sure," I say, not quite sure what I am agreeing to, as I stick an experimental hoof into Vinyl’s box.

"What you wanna hear?" Vinyl asks excitedly, opening her violin case as I try to find the bottom on the box, not paying her any heed.

"Vinyl," I say calmly, reaching into Vinyl’s box with my entire foreleg now.

"Ye-" Vinyl begins, but cuts herself off as she bursts into a fit of giggles at the sight of me trying to find the bottom of her box.

"What's so funny?" I ask flatly, retrieving my foreleg from the giggling mares box.

No answer.

"It's not that funny," I grumble, turning my attention back to the bottomless box.

I’d sit down inside it, but would I be able to get back out? I can't see a reason why not. Who knows, could be an interesting way to pass the ti-

"Dinner’s done!" Royal Crescent says from right beside me, causing my heart to jump into my throat. "Why are you so enticed with Vinyl’s box, Tavi?"

"None of your concern," I state simply, making a mental note to ask Vinyl what kind of magic was used on it.

"Okay," Royal Crescent says, giving up a bit too early.

Watching the club owner walk off to a table where my uncle is sitting eating a bowl of soup, I take a couple steps towards Vinyl. "Dinner’s done," I say, nudging her with a hoof.

"Be... right... there," Vinyl says in between gasps of air as she holds her sides tightly.

"Okay," I say, before trotting off to eat my dinner, my mouth watering at the thought of the meal and glass of wine awaiting my arrival.

The smell of the spiced pumpkin curry soup becomes increasingly stronger as I approach the table, and true to his word, Royal Crescent had two decent sized bowls of steaming hot soup sitting next to each other by a glass of wine.

I have to force myself to eat slowly because, if I don't, I'll just make myself sick after not eating for so long. I learned this lesson the hard way, but getting sick might be worth it this time around. The wine is a rich, complex, symphony of flavors that complement my creamy soup.

By the time I finish my first bowl, Vinyl joins us and begins eating. I've seen worse table manners before, but hers could use some work all the same. Nothing too drastic, just a bit of refreshment would probably do the trick.

"Have ya guessed why I'm here?" my uncle asks, pushing his empty bowl away from him.

"I'm not going to the orchards," I say, not bothering to look up at as I ladle some more soup into one of my empty bowls.

"You don't get a say in the matter," he states, cleaning his face with a napkin.

"Says who?" I ask.

"Your parents," my uncle counteracts, causing me to look up from my dinner. "They put you up for adoption."

"So," I say, a single tear welling up in the corner of my eye. "We never got along anyways."

"You know that's a lie," my uncle states as Royal Crescent and Vinyl stare at me in horror. "You love your mother, and she loves you, but since she's not your birth mother she had no say in the matter."

"Then why are you here?" I ask, as my tear drops into my soup. "You don't care about me either."

"Yes I do," my uncle sighs. "The only reason I was able to get to you before someone else was, is because your mother told me the second about it, the second my brother decided on putting you up for adoption."

"I don't need your help," I say quietly, pushing my half-empty bowl of soup away from me. "Thank you for dinner, I must be going."

"The only place you're going is to the orchard with me at sunrise," my uncle states firmly, getting up from his chair as I begin to slowly get out of mine. "Crescent, would ya know anywhere nearby Tavi and I could stay the night?"

"I don't need your help," I repeat, walking over to the counter to grab my cello and leave as tears begin to stain my cheeks. "I don't need anyones help, not now, not ever..."

Grabbing my cello, I try to lift it, but I cannot as a sob racks my grey chest.

"Come on Tavi," my uncle says softly, lifting me off my hooves and onto his back as I hold back the tears and sobs in a vain attempt to keep some of my dignity. "Everything will look brighter in the morning, I promise."

Author's Note:

I really do need to tone down the southern ascent this guy has....

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