“Tell me again why this was a good idea.” Reaching a hoof up to try and rub the back of her neck, the gray mare is stopped by mint colored hoof.

“I never said it was a good idea. Although, it is amazing how quick you were able to sober up when it all started.” Wrapping her hoof around the shoulders of her friend, Lyra pulls Octavia in for a reassuring hug. “At least you were sensible about getting the outline of a cello as your tattoo instead of your cutie mark.”

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have had that second bottle of... whatever that sub-par whiskey was,” Octavia laments, wobbling slightly from the effects of so much alcohol.

“Well, it was a very successful concert and one that was worth celebrating! It’s been a while since the Symphony received a standing ovation.”

Resisting the urge to rub her raw neck, Octavia smiles briefly at Lyra. “True, but why in the name of Celestia did I think that a tattoo was a good idea?”

“One word for you, sweetie: inebriation.”

“Why did you let me drink so much?”

“I tried to stop you after a few drinks, but somepony felt that they hadn’t celebrated enough.” Lyra teasingly pokes Octavia’s shoulder.

Sticking her tongue out at Lyra, Octavia trots up to the front door of their shared flat in the Garment District of Canterlot. Nearly centrally located, the spacious four bedroom flat was still out of reach for the two of them, but thankfully, they had been able to find a roommate to split the cost of rent. They only wished that they could have another musician from the symphony, rather than the a musician with such peculiar tastes in music.

Giggling, Octavia holds a hoof up to her mouth, indicating that the two should be silent. Leaning down to Lyra, she whispers rather unsuccessfully, “We should give Vinyl a scare since she’s not expecting us for another day.”

Nodding in agreement, Lyra can’t help but giggle at the thought of their roommate freaking out. With the door open, the two creep forward as silently as two drunken mares can, which is to say not at all. Before they can begin the hunt for their roommate, they’re stopped by the sound of a golden voice flooding the flat with a beautiful piano accompaniment. Looking at each other in stunned surprise, they felt their hooves propel them forward to the mysterious source. Approaching their practice room, they pause at the door and stare, enraptured at the sight before them.

Seated at the baby grand piano, a white mare lets her hooves fly over the keys. The beautiful succession of notes is nothing compared to the smooth, refined voice emanating from the third roommate. Jaws hanging agape, the other two just watch as the wild blue maned mare pours her heart into her song. Unaware of her impromptu audience, Vinyl lets the music carry her along the golden path of improvisation. Letting her song come to an end, she let out a sigh, a slight smile playing across her muzzle. Blinking slowly, her eyes flutter open as she lets the last note of the piano fades.

Igniting her horn, she snatches the pencil resting next to a book of blank sheet music and begins to furiously fill in the page with the song she just finished. Oblivious to her surroundings, her work is interrupted by the sounds of the other two mares squealing with delight. Looking at her audience, Vinyl feels her heart drop as a cold pit replaces the area her stomach used to occupy. Shoving back from the piano, she jumps to her hooves and looks frantically between Lyra and Octavia. With her gaze finally coming to rest on Octavia, she stutters out, “Look, I can explain…”

Octavia tries to control the array of emotions that she feels playing across her face: anger, curiosity, awe, and a hint of admiration are some that she’s able to recognize as she looks at her roommate. She distinctly remembers telling Vinyl ages ago to never touch her piano. Mostly because a DJ would have no need for one, and because of Vinyl’s penchant for destruction. Usually it’s the dishes with that insane dishwasher that she installed.

Looking at the nervous Vinyl tracing a hoof along the floor, her brain is still having difficulty processing what’s happened. “Why are you in our practice room?”

Looking down, Vinyl mumbles out an answer. Head tilted to try and pick up what was said, Octavia repeats the question a bit more firmly.

A defeated sigh escaping her lips, Vinyl looks up at the somewhat angry mare before her. “I come in here when you’re not home.”

Stepping forward, Octavia’s face softens as she says, “Why did you never tell us that you had such a beautiful voice? Or that you can actually play the piano?”

As tears form in the corner of her eyes, Vinyl mumbles out, “Because a DJ isn’t supposed to be able to do those things.” Raising her head, anger starts to infuse her voice. “Plus, how many times have I made fun of you for being stuck in the past? For playing an outdated instrument?” Stomping her hoof in fear, she finishes “Why would I want to share my deepest shame?”

Bringing a hoof up to wipe away the tears that have started to flow freely down Vinyl’s face. “Love, you shouldn’t be ashamed of this. Although, I must know, when did you learn to play the piano?”

Pressing her face gently against Octavia’s hoof, Vinyl sighs again. “I’ve always been able to play the piano. Once I got my cutie mark, my parents signed me up for music lessons for every instrument they could think of. The piano was one of the few that I didn’t come to resent.”

“Did they also sign you up for vocal coaching and singing lessons?”

Nodding, Vinyl continues, “And flute, saxophone, tuba, violin, drums, and many more.”

“Why didn’t you pursue a career in one of those? Or even singing? You have a voice that could easily rival Sapphire Shores or even Colorature herself.”

“Because I didn’t want someone else telling me what I should be doing. I snuck out one night and found myself at a club. It was there that I discovered electronic music and fell in love. I felt a passion burn through my veins as I’ve not felt before. I knew then, I wanted to— no. I needed to become a DJ.”

“You don’t have to give up this—” Octavia motions to the piano “—just because you are a DJ. You don’t have to limit yourself to what you think others expect of you.” Turning to the book of sheet music Vinyl hastily closed, Octavia opens it to find page upon page of original compositions. All with lyrics, some of which she recognized as being hits of the more mainstream pop musician.

“Vinyl, did you write all of these or are you copying what’s out there?”

“They’re mine,” Vinyl says miserably. Still chagrined about having her secret outed, she still feels the shame of being outed.

Looking back at Vinyl, Octavia sighs and turns to her. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. We all have things we would prefer that others not find out.” Tapping her chin in thought briefly, she trots out of the room. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got something to show you.”

Looking up to Lyra, Vinyl sighs. “What are your thoughts on all of this?”

Grinning, Lyra says, “You have a beautiful voice. One that I would never have guessed hides under that raspy tone you use for speaking.”

“You’re not angry or upset that I’m in your music room?”

Shrugging, she continues, “I mean, I’m a bit upset as we just thought you would bring nothing but wanton destruction to our instruments in an attempt to play them.”

Indignation laced through her voice, Vinyl interrupts Lyra. “What would ever give you the idea that I would be so destructive?”

“I’ve seen your room.”

Grinning sheepishly, Vinyl is saved from embarrassing herself further by the return of Octavia carrying a small crate of records. Looking at it curiously, Vinyl notices that it appears to be laden with works of classical music. Things that normally stop a DJ from rifling through said collection.

Reaching in, Octavia gently removes a sleeve that’s instantly recognizable to Vinyl. It’s a pressing of her first album as DJ PON3. Looking to Octavia in confusion, she asks, “Why do you have that?”

A slow blush spreads across the face of her, the color diffused slightly by the darkness of her fur. “I, um, really enjoy listening to your music.” Finishing the short sentence in a rush, her blush increases in intensity, suffusing her whole face in a delightful shade of crimson.

A spark of recognition dawns in Vinyl as a few things fall into place. “You were the mare at the last signing all bundled up with the test pressing of my first album...” she trails off, looking at the rare gem Octavia is holding.

Nodding, Octavia continues, “I actually have all of your albums.” Looking at the ground in embarrassment, she doesn’t see Vinyl approach until a pair of white hooves enter her field of view. Glancing up, face afire, she grins weakly at her.

“Why did you never say anything, Tavi? Well, you did say things. Like how my music is, and I quote, ‘A disgrace to musicians everywhere and an assault against our ears’.” Spirits picked up by Octavia’s secret, Vinyl’s gently places a hoof on Octavia’s and helps guide the rare print back into its secure spot amongst the other albums. “Let me guess, you hide your secret music in between all of your classical records?”

Nodding, Octavia whispers, “I didn’t want you going through my music and finding your records in there.”

Grinning in response, Vinyl can’t help but chuckle. “Well, at least you’re fairly smart about it, because it worked, which is why I didn’t know you have one of the test pressings.” As her laugh fades, she feels the dam holding her tears and emotions back, start to crack. “So, you guys don’t hate me?” Looking to her two roommates, Vinyl feels the tears start to flow, shame once again rearing its ugly head within her.

“I’m more upset that you didn’t trust us enough to tell us about your musical background than anything.” Looking about, Lyra spots her practice lyre still propped up in the corner. Narrowing her eyes, she looks back to Vinyl. “You haven’t touched my lyre, have you?”

Shaking her head vehemently, Vinyl assures Lyra that she has done no such thing. “I only use the piano.” She says hastily to both Lyra and Octavia.

Setting the crate of records down gingerly, Octavia returns to the composition book. “Vinyl, have you been writing pop songs for Sapphire Shores and Coloratura?”

“Songwriting for those two is a lot more lucrative than being a DJ, but being a DJ is what I love. This—” she gestures to the pages filled with musical notes and lyrics “—is to help pay the bills.”

“Well, I think it’s brilliant. Who knew that there is some actual musical talent within you?” Octavia teases gently, giving Vinyl a brief hug before letting her go.

Even though the ribbing was good natured, it fuelled the feelings of shame and guilt, finally breaking through the emotional barricades attempting to keep everything contained. Feeling herself sitting down, Vinyl finally bursts into tears as all of her stress and fears make their presence known. Looking at each other, Lyra and Octavia approach her gently and sit down next to her, offering her comfort in the form of their presence.

Wrapping Octavia and Lyra in a hug, Vinyl continues to cry as the stress and fears left her. Pulling them in close, she’s startled by a sudden yelp from Octavia. Leaning back, tears streaking her face, Vinyl spies the tell-tale cellophane wrapping taped on the back of Octavia’s neck. Looking at the blushing mare with her face splitting into a wide grin, Vinyl moves out of the embrace and quickly flips Octavia’s mane out of the way. “Why, Tavi!” Vinyl exclaims. “You’ve gotten a tattoo.”

Eyes widening, the now frantic earth pony says, “Look, I can explain…”