Vinyl Scratch has been irresponsible for too long! Sweetie Belle can fix that.
Vinyl Scratch's irresponsible and wasteful lifestyle has gotten on her house-mate Octavia's last nerve. That unicorn needs to be taught a lesson, and fast. But how do you make somepony who hasn't even taken care of her own trash before be taught to take chores, house upkeep, and the feelings of others seriously? Give them a problem they can't ignore, that's how, and Sweetie Belle is the perfect filly for the job.
Inspired by a comic. I can't remember the name of it, though.
“Vinyl Scratch!” Uh-oh. Octavia sounded furious this time. She never used Vinyl’s full name unless she was seriously ticked.
Time to bolt.
“Oh, no you don’t!” The gray mare blocked Vinyl’s path before she could get to the door. Curse earth ponies and their land speed.
“Hey, ‘Tavi, I was just about to head out to get some, uh, sugar because we… were… out…” Each word in Vinyl’s sentence faded as Octavia’s glare grew more and more stern.
“I bought some yesterday after somepony decided to make art with it!” Okay, that wasn't even that big of a deal. It takes skill to make a tiny turntable out of sugar cubes and syrup.
“Oh, come on, ‘Tavi—”
“Don’t you ‘Oh, come on, ‘Tavi’ me,” Octavia really was mad, wasn’t she? Vinyl must have really messed up today.
What was it that she had done, again? Remembering things wasn’t the unicorn’s strong suit.
“Don’t act like you don’t remember!” Octavia yelled, her Trottingham accent now quite prominent, as it often got when she was emotionally charged. Dang it, Vinyl thought, she can read me like a book.
“You keep leaving the refrigerator open, you never turn your lamps off when you leave the house for Celestia knows how long, and you shower like you’re made of water! Our utility bills are at least twenty percent higher from last month, and last month they were twenty percent higher than the one before that! We don’t have the bits to pay for this wastefulness, Vinyl!” Oh, so it wasn’t one thing she had done. It was a whole bunch of things, and now they were in debt.
“Chill, ‘Tavi, I’ll do a few extra shows this month, maybe charge a bit more for tic—”
“No, Vinyl! I’m not letting you worm your way out of this. I’m going to punish you big time.” Now that was odd. The only time Octavia threatened punishment was when she and Vinyl were playing—
“Wipe that smirk off your face. That’s not what I mean. I’ve had this planned for a long time in case your messing up of things went too far one day. It turns out today is that day.” A punishment that didn’t end in something good for the both of them? Now Vinyl was extremely nervous. What could Octavia possibly have planned?
“So, are we living without electricity for a while or something? Oh, no. If I can’t create my beats I don’t know how I’ll survive! I need my wubs, ‘Tavi! I need my wubs!” Octavia sighed,
“We aren’t doing anything. I’m going to Canterlot for the week with some of my savings that I had to dip into because I don’t have any extra income thanks to a certain irresponsible house-mate. You are staying here to see if you can’t learn a little something about responsibility and how not having it affects the ponies around you.” The worst of Octavia’s anger was over, Vinyl guessed. At least she had stopped yelling. Still, she didn’t see how a week on her own would teach her anything about responsibility. If she couldn’t handle taking care of things with a roommate, half of Ponyville might as well be ablaze if Vinyl’s best friend wasn’t around to help out every once in a while. Besides, Vinyl liked it when Octavia was out. It meant she could blast her music as loud as she wanted and live like the bachelorette that was deeply rooted inside her.
“Sweet, a week with my own pad. All right, ‘Tavi, you can take your little vacation and when you come back I’ll be totally responsible and stuff.” Vinyl said, already planning the week’s debauchery.
“Not so fast, Vinyl. I didn’t say I was leaving you here alone. You’ll be taking care of a little guest while I’m gone,” Octavia grew a little smirk on her face as she said that. Vinyl’s nervousness returned. If there was one thing scarier than a ‘Tavi with an angry expression, it was a ‘Tavi with a smile on her face.
“W-what, did you get me a ferret or something?” Vinyl tried to joke.
“Something like that,” Octavia said. As if on cue, the doorbell rang right as she finished speaking. “That must be her.” Vinyl spun around to see what fate awaited her. The door that was once her escape from Octavia’s wrath now held her doom. Octavia gave Vinyl one last mischievous glance and opened the door. Vinyl’s heart sank when she saw the pony on the opposite side.
Rarity.
Oh, no. Not Rarity. That unicorn was the one pony that could be more irritating to Vinyl than Octavia on a good day. She was like Octavia squared. Vinyl didn’t know how many Octavia’s that would be, but enough Octavia’s in one equals one Rarity, and just one Rarity was so not cool. The worst part about it was Rarity and Octavia were friends. No wonder Octavia thought that Vinyl would learn how to be responsible in a week. Anypony would change after just one day with Rarity.
“’Tavi, no. Not her. You want me to live, don’t you? You like me, right?” Vinyl threw herself at Octavia’s hooves, “Please, ‘Tavi, anyone but her!” Rarity, well within earshot, coughed,
“Ahem,” she raised an eyebrow. Vinyl, still at Octavia’s feet, looked up,
“Miss Prissy,” she said, pretending to be civilized.
“Miss Scratch,” Rarity replied, “While I appreciate your, ah, enthusiasm at me keeping you company for the next few days, I am not the one who will be rooming here.” The DJ party pony sighed the biggest sigh of her life, “Oh, thank Celestia!”
“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity called behind her.
Sweetie Belle? Many a tea time Vinyl had overheard Rarity speaking of her little sister with Octavia. She never paid much attention past her name, though. Was she a smaller version of Rarity? That wouldn’t be too fun, Vinyl thought. She wasn’t very good with kids, either. Her jobs mostly consisted of rave and night club gigs with ponies that were certainly past fillyhood. Vinyl braced herself for the worst.
A small white unicorn filly with cotton candy colored hair dragged a suitcase that was bigger than her into Vinyl and Octavia’s home.
“Hi! I’m Sweetie Belle. Rarity said I’m going to stay here for the week,” she squeaked. She squeaked. Vinyl almost burst out laughing but decided against it given her current situation. This was not what she expected Rarity’s little sister to be like.
“’Tavi, you can’t expect me to baby-sit this kid,” Vinyl pointed her hoof out.
“I’m not a kid!” Sweetie Belle protested, “I’ll get my cutie mark any day now, just you wait!” The filly’s adorableness was blinding. Vinyl almost had to clench her heart to keep herself from letting out a very out of character squeal. Octavia and her roommate stared at each other for a moment, having a silent argument, which Vinyl lost. The deal was done. Whatever part of Tartarus that was going to be unleashed on the blue haired DJ was unavoidable now.
“Come, now, Octavia. We’ll barely catch our train to Canterlot if we dawdle any longer.” Rarity urged her friend along.
“Right, let me just get my things,” Octavia replied. There was an awkward silence between the three white unicorns for a moment, save for Sweetie Belle’s humming. Vinyl didn’t know the song, but she couldn’t help adding some beats to it in her head.
“Right then,” Octavia returned from her room with her luggage and saddle bags, “Vinyl, I expect big changes from you in seven days. If I find you haven’t changed your ways, I’m evicting you from this house.” Now she tells her.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you never said anything about that!” Vinyl complained.
“That’s because I knew you’d throw a fit if I had told you earlier. Now you don’t get a chance to protest,” Octavia said.
“But… ‘Tavi… I’m your best friend. How could you kick me out?” Vinyl pleaded.
“It’s only if you don’t stop being wasteful and irresponsible. Sweetie Belle can teach you a lot about that, trust me,” The gray mare put her foreleg around her friend’s neck and lowered her voice, “It’s not like I want to do this, Vinyl. You’re my best friend and I love you, and that’s why I put together this little project. You have my word, we’ll both be happier when this is through.” Rarity coughed again,
“Octavia?” she called.
“I’ll be back, Vinyl. Please don’t disappoint me.” With that, Octavia and Rarity set off, shutting the door behind them. Vinyl let out another large sigh and wondered how she was supposed to learn anything from a filly, even if it was a mini-Rarity.
“All right, kid. It looks like it’s just you and…” Hold on. Where did the little scamp run off to? Vinyl was worried she had failed in the first thirty seconds of her mission when she heard a resounding crash come from the kitchen. Not a second later, the smoke alarm went off. Vinyl rushed to the source of the commotion, and found Sweetie Belle happily doing to the kitchen what she couldn’t accomplish in a month of being left to her own devices. Egg shells littered the table, a mixture of Celestia knows what was being massacred by a rogue electric mixer, and somehow, some way, an expired carton of milk had caught fire inside the open refrigerator.
“Oh, hi!” The filly squeaked in her unnaturally high-pitched voice, “I thought I’d go ahead and start making us lunch. I hope you like oatmeal!” The DJ had to rub her eyes with her hooves to make sure the tornado of destruction that lay before her was reality.
“Luna and Celestia above,” Vinyl gasped, “what are you?”
The sun was already setting by the time Vinyl and Sweetie Belle finished cleaning up the filly’s little “project.” All the while Vinyl was shooting Sweetie evil glances in hopes that one of them would make her explode... or simply disappear, but the former of the two would be more visually satisfying.
Then again, Vinyl thought, there’d be another mess I’d have to clean up.
“Sorry about the mess, Miss Scratch.” Sweetie said as Vinyl used her magic to dry the young one’s face with a towel.
“Yeah, well, apology accepted and all, but you seriously need to watch what you’re doing. I’m not going to clean up after you all week. I have a hard enough time cleaning up after myself,” Vinyl sighed.
“Rarity says Miss Octavia does everything around here while you go out and play with your tubs. I don’t know what that means, though. Even I don’t play in the bath anymore.”
“Tubs? What the hay has that sister of yours been teaching—oh, you must mean wubs. You have no idea what I do for a living, do you, kid?” Sweetie Belle climbed up into a chair at the kitchen table.
“Make Miss Octavia’s life a living Tartarus?” she cocked her head. Cheeky little filly,
“No, that’s my second job. Anyway,” Vinyl sat down the chair opposite Sweetie Belle, “I’m what you call a DJ. It means ‘disc-jockey.’”
“So you’re a disc… racer?” Sweetie squeaked. The intonation in her voice made Vinyl chuckle a bit,
“Haha, no, kid, I don’t race them. I play them for other ponies at huge parties. The cool part, though, is that most of the music on my discs is made by yours truly.” Vinyl seemed proud of herself, but Sweetie seemed puzzled,
“I don’t get it. You get money for putting down a disc and pressing ‘play’? And who’s Yours Truly? Is he your friend?” Vinyl put her hoof to her face,
“It’s more complicated than just pressing play, kid. See, the kind of music I play is hardcore stuff. It’s nothing like the snooty concerts ‘Tavi plays all the time. There aren’t any violins or trumpets or pianos. Nope, what I got is pure bass and wub-tastic awesomeness!” Sweetie Belle simply blinked. Vinyl realized she had lost her audience somewhere between the attempted shaping of an invisible “wub” in mid-air and her finishing hoof-pump. Embarrassed, she coughed, “Y’know what, lemme just show you. Come on, kid. I’ll take you to my studio.”
Sweetie and Vinyl headed upstairs to a locked room with a thick door. Vinyl used some magic key spell to gain access and stepped inside. Sweetie Belle tried to follow before being stopped by Vinyl’s hoof,
“Hold up, kid. I have to deactivate the traps first.”
“Traps? Why would you set up traps in your own house?”
“’Tavi may not have magic, but that earth pony is as clever as they come. Sometimes she likes to break in and use my huge speakers to blast her classical nonsense all over the house.”
“Is that a problem?” Sweetie asked. Vinyl poked her head out and looked at the filly like she hadn’t heard a note of good music before. Being Rarity’s sister, though, that probably wasn’t too far off.
“A problem? Kid, if it wasn’t a problem, Mama wouldn’t have to protect her speakers from that stupid cello music. My babies love their wubs. Yes they do! Yes they do!” Vinyl had retreated back into the studio to caress her “babies”. Sweetie took this as a sign that the traps were off. Cautiously stepping in, the little unicorn was quickly overtaken with the number of weird machines and magic apparatuses that lined the room. She noted that they were surprisingly well-kept, considering the mannerisms of their owner.
“Rarity says she can hear your music all the way from Carousel Boutique sometimes. If you can turn your music all the way up, why can’t Miss Octavia?” Sweetie asked. Vinyl tried to provide a quick reply, but found her mouth open with no words coming out. When it came down to it, she had never given her studio’s restrictions any thought. After all, the only thing Octavia did in there was listen to music. It wasn’t like she was totally wrecking Vinyl’s work or anything. Meanwhile, Octavia’s practice or enjoyment of her prized cello would always be cut short just because Vinyl decided she had heard enough for the day, which was usually only a few minutes.
Sweet Celestia, Vinyl thought. I thought she had been bringing home fewer bits lately. I mess with ‘Tavi, her stuff, and her music all the time and she doesn’t get mad, but I flip my lid the second she steps into my studio. It’s like, a total imbalance.
“Wow, I have really been not cool lately,” Vinyl sighed. Suddenly, Vinyl looked up. It’s been too quiet. She and Sweetie Belle had only been together a few hours, but Vinyl knew that fillies weren’t known for being quiet. “Wait a minute; I’ve had too much time to think,” She said, “That kid usually is usually talking non-stop. What is she—STARSWIRL’S BEARD, NOT MY RECORDS!” Sweetie Belle had wandered off in Vinyl’s silence, her attention span clearly not long enough to deal with a pensive mare. An impressive sculpture of Canterlot Castle had been haphazardly stacked together by using Vinyl’s record collection, many of which were— CRASH! Fragile.
“Kid, why!? Those were some of my greatest hits! Now I have to make all those beats from scratch again, and I’m not talking about my name!”
“I-I’m sorry! I made Canterlot Castle because we both have a pony we care about there and I thought—”
“No, you didn’t think! Do you have any respect for other ponies’ stuff?”
“Miss Scratch, I—” tears were beginning to well up in Sweetie’s eyes.
“I don’t want to hear it! Go to ‘Tavi’s room and go to bed, NOW!” Vinyl was livid.
“But—”
“NOW!” The final ‘now’ startled Sweetie Belle into a rare magic burst, which sent a blast of pure energy ricocheting around the room, damaging many of the elaborate machines in Vinyl’s studio. No further words were needed for Vinyl’s rage at that moment. Sweetie ran out of the room, tears streaming down her face, as Vinyl slammed the door behind her, locking it with every lock and sealing spell she knew. Vinyl would have to spend a long time in her studio repairing. She didn’t care though.
“That stupid kid can take care of herself for the rest of the week,” Vinyl said with spite.
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,