Chapter 3
Vinyl Scratch had cleared the last of her daisy sandwiches from the small refrigerator in her studio. It had been nearly two days since she sent Sweetie Belle bawling to Octavia’s room. In all honesty, Vinyl did not intend to spend so long locked up, but after her rage had subsided, she couldn’t help but feel a major pang of guilt every time she tried to leave the room.
She was worried because she didn’t know if the little filly could actually take care of herself. After all, Vinyl hadn’t been bothered in the last two days, so the kid could have died of starvation by now! The DJ didn’t need that on her conscience. What if Sweetie had gotten mad as well and totally wrecked the house? What if she tells Rarity and Octavia that Vinyl left her to fend for herself (which wasn’t totally untrue)? So many situations ended up in a hurt filly and a very homeless unicorn.
These two issues rocked Vinyl’s mind. She was used to dealing with less than or equal to zero issues on any other day. Sure, Vinyl was concerned about losing her home, but two days ago that would have been all she cared about if she was in the same situation. Now she felt she had something to prove to somepony. Sweetie Belle’s words had got her thinking. Before, Octavia was her friend, but Vinyl treated her like an object that just happened to be in her house. Now Sweetie Belle was here, and it was like she was Octavia, but with her feelings out in the open. Vinyl had to make things right, for both the kid and her very best friend.
“Kid?” Vinyl called, finally stepping out of her studio into a dark, quiet hallway, “Sweetie Belle?” She checked Octavia’s room, but all she saw was Octavia’s bed perfectly made. The two small pillows flanked the one larger pillow, just like the gray earth pony liked.
“’Tavi usually puts the small ones in front, though,” Vinyl whispered to herself. The whole house was eerily quiet, but not the kind of quiet that forebode doom like it had just a couple days before. For once, Vinyl hoped she would actually find Sweetie Belle up to some sort of nonsense. She might actually help out this time.
Vinyl reached the living room and poked her head around the corner, spotting Sweetie Belle sitting dejectedly on the couch opposite a lightly burning fireplace.
“Sweetie?” Vinyl called softly. The filly looked up, surprised to hear Vinyl’s voice after so long.
“That’s the first time you actually called me by my name,” Sweetie Belle replied.
“You don’t deserve to be called ‘kid’ all the time. I was up in my studio and then I thought… look, let’s just talk.” Vinyl propped herself up next to Sweetie on the couch. The fire popped and crackled for a moment.
“You’re not talking,” Sweetie said flatly.
“My music usually does that for me. I’m not good with the whole gushy feelings stuff,” Vinyl replied.
“Look,” Sweetie pointed to the fireplace, “You helped me do that. Not on purpose, I guess, but now I can set fire to things!”
Vinyl laughed,
“It figures that would be the first type of spell you would learn first.”
Sweetie Belle didn’t see the humor,
“I’m sorry I ruined all your stuff, Miss Scratch,” she apologized. A hoof ruffled her mane,
“Don’t sweat it, Sweetie Belle—and you can call me Vinyl. Save the
‘Miss’ stuff for ‘Tavi,” the white unicorn sighed, “Y’know, I was pretty ticked when you broke my records and machines.”
“That’s an understatement,” Sweetie thought out loud, covering her mouth and squeaking when she realized it.
“Nah, you’re right. I was way out of line. I was only considering what I felt and I wasn’t thinking of you as a pony at all. It’s just like with me and ‘Tavi. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. I feel like the worst friend ever,” Vinyl admitted.
“I feel like the worst houseguest ever. I always mess things up at home so when I came here I thought I could do something good for somepony for once. All I did was mess that up, too,” Sweetie Belle looked down dejectedly.
What was this, an intervention? Vinyl just wanted to have a talk, not end up on the Oprah Whinnyfrey show. Maybe she could show Sweetie Belle how sorry she was through something other than words. Suddenly, she got an idea,
“Hey, Sweets, come with me,” Vinyl said, hopping off the couch. She led the filly upstairs and back to the studio, a place that Sweetie was less than enthused about returning to. Vinyl had left the door open with no traps engaged. After her change of heart, she felt she wouldn’t need locks or traps anymore. When Vinyl switched on the lights, Sweetie was surprised to see that all of the machines she had inadvertently destroyed were repaired and intact, as if they had never been touched. The records remained shattered in a trash bag, however.
“How did you…” Sweetie began,
“It may not look like it, but I went to college, too, Sweets. They teach you a thing or two about magical repair there,” Vinyl explained, “Take a seat right by the panel, there.” The filly plopped down in the rotating chair, which sunk immediately, startling her.
“Wah!” she squeaked, “So what are we gonna do in the studio?” To answer her question, Vinyl turned a few knobs and pressed a few buttons, which began a beat with a deep bass drum. While bobbing her head, the DJ magicked over her signature glasses and put them on Sweetie Belle’s face.
“Let’s make some music. I never did get to show you how this was done.” Sweetie tilted her head, the oversized goggles sliding down her face
“What do I do? I’ve never made music before.”
“Just go ahead and press a button or something. I’m sure you can get the hang of it,” Vinyl assured her. Taking her word for it, Sweetie turned to her panel and pressed a button that made a resounding WUB. Enticed, she pressed another. The drum beat doubled, and Sweetie found herself tapping her hoof along to the music. She pressed a few more buttons, each of which produced an interesting wobble or sliding sound that she was unfamiliar with, but enjoyed anyways. With a small set of effects under her command, Sweetie began pressing a few in sequences. The sound she created intrigued Vinyl,
“Wow, not bad, Sweets. It’s not every day a filly can DJ out of nowhere. Now let me show you how to really get things jumpin’!” Vinyl stretched her hooves and got to work, dancing her magic and hooves about her turntables and music panels. Her beats tripped and wobbled, muted and blasted, creating a dubtrot song that would get any self-respecting rave-pony’s hoof pumping. Somewhere along the line, a vocal came in, but Vinyl didn’t remember hitting any of her pre-recorded voice effects. Turning about, she saw Sweetie Belle singing a simple tune along with the song, which fit well. Really well.
“Keep doing that, Sweets,” Vinyl said. Sweetie stopped for a split second, but when a recording microphone hovered in front of her face, she understood what her host wanted her to do. Eventually they recorded an entire song with Vinyl’s beats and Sweetie’s voice. When the music finally stopped, Sweetie Belle squeaked,
“Oh, wow, that was so fun! I had no idea you could make this kind of music!”
“I had no idea you could sing to this type of music. You’ve got a killer voice in there, you know that?” Vinyl praised her, poking Sweetie Belle’s chest.
“Why does everypony say that? I’m not that good,” Sweetie raised Vinyl’s glasses up above her horn.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Any mare who can sing like that will have colts at their feet in a second… not that you should be interested in that kind of stuff right now,” before questions she wasn’t prepared to answer came up, Vinyl changed the subject, “Actually, you’re a lot like me with music when I was young.”
“I dunno. I just like to sing because it feels good and makes other ponies happy,” Sweetie shrugged.
“And that’s exactly why I do what I do. Making other ponies happy with music is the best part about it. Part of the reason ‘Tavi and I are friends is because we both love our work because no matter what you can get happiness out of it… come to think of it, maybe the sound of a cello or two isn’t that bad, after all.”
“Singing to make others happy, huh…” Sweetie Belle’s pensive look was strangely familiar to Vinyl. The last time she saw a face like that was in Canterlot’s Choral and Chords Camp when she was a filly. That’s right, it was right before Octavia—
A small flash interrupted her thought. Its source was Sweetie Belle’s flank. Vinyl’s mouth dropped open.
“Helping other ponies and making them happy is something I’ve always wanted to do. If I can sing to make that happen, I… Vinyl? What are you looking at? What’s with the face? It’s kind of creeping me out.” Vinyl simply pointed at the filly’s flank with her hoof in response. Sweetie’s eyes and mouth went as wide as Vinyl’s when she saw what had grabbed her attention.
A cutie mark. Specifically, a heart with a single quarter note inside it.
“My… my cutie mark!” Okay, even Winona had to have heard that squeak.
“Well would you look at that, Sweets? It looks like we both learned something today,” Vinyl smiled.
“I-I’ve waited so long for this. I’m the first of my friends to get mine! W-what do I do?”
“Calm down, Sweets. Geez, ‘Tavi acted the exact same way when she got her cutie mark. Did you know she was the last one in our grade to get hers?” The prospect of a story calmed Sweetie Belle down.
“Really? Miss Octavia was last? She’s so mature; I’d think it was you who would get their cutie mark after everypony else,”
“I resent that. Anyways, the truth is, Octavia hated the cello as a filly. She was more of a rocker, y’know, with guitars and all that. That’s how we became friends in the first place,” Vinyl explained. It looked like she was going to have to do a bit of storytelling, “We both thought we were going to start a band and play for crowds of thousands all across Equestria.”
“So how did you end up being a DJ?” Sweetie asked.
“It was totally an accident, believe it or not. See, one day our class went to a record factory to see how blank vinyl discs were made. When the workers were demonstrating how music is recorded onto one, my horn had… a little mishap and started turning that record back and forth. My magic also started throwing around other discs on accident, bouncing off vats and tanks and pipes. All that together created sounds I had never heard before. I wanted to make them again, but I was banned from entering the factory after that field trip.
“So instead I got building. After a couple weeks I had little prototype versions of the contraptions that are around us now, and my very own type of music, dubtrot, was born. I knew that this was the type of music I’d awe crowds with for the rest of my life, and then my cutie mark appeared.”
“What about Miss Octavia?” Sweetie Belle pressed on.
“Hold on, hold on, I’m getting to that. Needless to say, ‘Tavi was ticked when she I told her what I wanted to do. We didn’t talk for weeks, even though I went to her house almost every day until camp,” Vinyl said.
“Camp?” the filly echoed.
“Yeah, the Canterlot Choral and Chords Camp for Musical Foals. Both our parents signed us up to see if we could get over our little fight by being forced to be together. While we were there, she wouldn’t touch any instrument that wouldn’t be found in a rock band, until one day…” Sweetie Belle’s eyes were huge. Clearly she was eager to hear the rest of the story,
“One night we got a little heated again, and I told ‘Tavi to cool it. The sound of a cello woke me up in the middle of the night.”
“Did Miss Octavia find out she was really good at it and get her cutie mark?” Sweetie asked. Vinyl shook her head,
“Actually, the only reason it woke me up was because it sounded like a manticore with a thorn in its paw. I asked her what she was doing and she told for her sake, her parents’ sake, and for my sake she should at least give that snooty cello a try. It took her all of the camp, but every night she and I would sneak off to one of the more soundproof music rooms and I would listen to her play, and she got really talented. Something special must have happened on the last night after playing, because she got real quiet like you did, and suddenly her cutie mark was there.”
“It’s almost like she got her cutie mark because of you,” Sweetie Belle said, “No wonder you two are so close.”
“Yeah,” Vinyl nodded, “Now that I’m remembering that story again, it’s incredible that she didn’t kick me out before.”
“Octavia’s kicking you out?” The DJ realized that Sweetie Belle must have only known that she was being looked after for a week. In reality, it was the young filly’s report to Rarity that determined whether Vinyl would be on the streets or not come tomorrow.
“Only if I don’t learn anything about taking responsibility for things. That’s what ‘Tavi said,” Vinyl admitted.
“But I don’t want you to go anywhere! You’re the best foalsitter ever!” Sweetie protested. A tear came to the blue-haired pony’s eyes.
“Thanks, kid—I mean Sweetie Belle. You’re not so bad yourself.” Vinyl patted Sweetie Belle’s head.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Rarity that I had the best time of my life here! I got my cutie mark because of you, after all!” The young one’s excitement gave way to yawns. It was getting late.
“I’ll count on it. Now let’s get some rest. Your sister comes back tomorrow.”
On the morning of Octavia and Rarity’s return, Sweetie Belle and Vinyl Scratch enjoyed breakfast together for the first time. Later, Sweetie sang happy tunes while packing her things and Vinyl made sure the house was clean. A little after noon, Octavia and Rarity came through the front door, the latter laden with bags from designer shops in Canterlot—no doubt for inspiration rather than her own wardrobe.
Octavia suddenly stopped after closing the door and whipped around to eye the living room. The couch was intact, the curtains were not on fire, and aside from somepony’s singing voice the house was relatively quiet.
“Vinyl? I’m home,” she called cautiously. Vinyl and Sweetie Belle appeared simultaneously, each carrying some of the filly’s luggage.
“Welcome back, ‘Tavi. Hey, Rarity,” Vinyl smiled.
“Um, hello?” Rarity narrowed her eyes. Hold on. The two white ponies before them were nothing like the ones they left a week ago. Vinyl wasn’t being rude or making snide comments, and Sweetie Belle was still, calm, and—
“My, Sweetie Belle! You’ve got your cutie mark! Wait, you didn’t paint it on again, did you? Darling, you know how hard that is to get out of your coat!” Rarity sighed.
“Nope, it’s 100% real this time! See?” Sweetie Belle raised her flank so her sister and Octavia could get a better look.
“How did that happen?” Octavia asked.
“Well, me and Vinyl didn’t start out too great, but then she showed me how to make music, and I realized I was really happy when I sang for ponies, and my cutie mark appeared! She’s the best foalsitter ever, so please don’t kick her out, Miss Octavia!” Sweetie begged.
“Vinyl, you didn’t bribe Sweetie Belle and then give her a tattoo of a cutie mark saying ‘it’s basically the same thing as a real one,’ just so she’d say you did well and I’d let you stay, did you?”
“Wow, that’s a really specific accusation,” Sweetie Belle said.
“No way, ‘Tavi. You wanted me to learn about responsibility, and this kid here was the perfect lesson for me,” Vinyl pulled the filly close, “She reminded me of you and I when we were young—how we were there for each other and why we were friends in the first place. At first, Sweetie Belle was acting just like me before all this, and it put me in your hooves for a mile or two. Then we fought, had a heart-to-heart, and, well, here we are. You won’t see an irresponsible Vinyl Scratch ever again.” Octavia was in tears. She dropped her luggage and ran to embrace her best friend.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming through for me, Vinyl. I couldn’t bear the thought of living without you,” she sobbed. Rarity piped up,
“Oh, tell me about it. All day, every day in Canterlot it was ‘I hope Vinyl’s all right’ this, and ‘she’s my best friend, you know’ that. Octavia, dear, we were supposed to be on vacation. Honestly it’s like you two are married.” At that, there was a knock at the door. Octavia opened it up to find a small dragon futilely trying to hide a bouquet of flowers.
“Is Rarity here? I heard she was back from Canterlot,” he said. Octavia smiled and rolled her eyes,
“Rarity, your boyfriend, Spike, is here.” Spike blushed,
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re that close, yet, but—”
“Hey, Spike,” Vinyl interrupted him, letting Rarity sigh with relief, “You do that message thing to Princess Celestia, right?”
“Sure do! Got something you learned about friendship you want to say?”
“Totally. Take a letter.”
Dear Princess Celestia,
I know I’m not your normal sender, but I think you’ll appreciate what I learned about friendship this past week.
A good friendship has a lot of give-and-take in it. It’s our way of covering each other’s flaws. You need to recognize when that relationship is out of balance, though, or else you could end up losing something really special to you, whether it’s your music, your house, or worse, your friends.
Always be mindful of your own actions and how they affect those closest to you, and you’ll find that your friendships will find very few bumps in the road,
Wubs, Vinyl Scratch
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The comic the one with sweetie bot?
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Indeed! Thank you for finding it!
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