A Puppet To Her Fame

5

I awoke the next morning with a mild headache, and stretched my legs out. My room was much darker today, allowing me to open my eyes and look around. That was when I noticed I was not in my room.

I felt a foreleg wrapped around my chest. There was a warm body snuggled up against me on the bed. The feeling made me smile. Last night was a complete blur. It was clear I had slept at somepony else's house. I smiled at the thought of telling my parents I had slept with a stallion and lost my virginity. The thought of how livid I could make them after running away for a night made me chuckle. If that didn't get me disowned, and thus freed of their demanding legacy, nothing would. After a moment, the gravity of that statement sank in.

I would have to explain this to my parents.

Fear gripped my heart at that moment, for I could count on my hooves the number of times I had disappointed my parents this badly. Each time I had failed them, they would devise a new punishment just for the occasion. Their disapproval and guilt trips used to feel like a cold knife plunging into my heart. Once that ceased to be effective, they had agreed to just lock me in a room with my mother until the screaming stopped. It was her that I truly feared now.

I pried my eyes open and ignored the howling objection of my brain. I looked down to see a white foreleg wrapped around me. Fate chose this moment to reunite me with the ballad I had drunk away last night. Chords slowly crescendoed in my head until they reached unbearable levels. The ringing in my ears was matched in strength by the song demanding to be composed.

I rolled off the bed, vomiting a bit of bile onto the floor. I held myself up as I continued to retch onto the tiles. The floor was covered by all manner of clothing, discarded pizza boxes, and beer bottles. I quickly regretted my decision to get drunk and flirt with stallions at the nightclub. The best thing to do was to head home now. I had succeeded in my goal of escaping my mundane life for one night. I could be happy with that until my next outing with Lyra.

That was when I turned to face the stallion, whom I assumed had showed me a good time, even though I could not recall it. That was when I saw Vinyl and a fresh wave of memories from the night before were unleashed in my brain. White fur, stained by sweat and beer, was accented by an electric blue mane, splayed in a hundred directions from the long night. Two eighth notes adorned the mare's flank, and though I could not recall what had happened in bed, it mortified me all the same.

I had slept with Vinyl, the DJ, and a mare. To rub a stallion in my parent's face might be hilarious enough to offset the punishment. My parents deserved to suffer. Knowing their daughter had gone out and experienced the real world would do that. What would filly fooling accomplish? How would they react to know I had run off, gotten drunk, and slept with a mare?

Angry staccato notes began to race through my head. A battle between the woodwinds and the brass section raged. The music had returned, and it sounded upset. I had ignored its call to compose last night. The chaotic dissonance made thinking impossible.

I slumped down on the floor and begged the raging classical song to stop. I needed to think. Why is the music haunting me here, of all places? Why is composing the song all I can think about? I need to get out of here!

I rummaged through the apartment until I found a pen and some blank paper. In order to begin composing the song, I had to draw the lines and clefs in by hoof. I needed to finish this so I could have a moment of quiet.

It looked like the sheet music was composed by a foal, but the notes were falling in their proper places. Then I felt the pinch that would become so familiar to me. It was the same pinch I had felt at the auditions.

I had taken my mind off the composition of the music, yet my foreleg continued to guide the pen across the page. I could feel a sharp pain near my pastern, the groove above my hoof. It felt as if another hook had been lodged there, and was being tugged on.