I would like to take a moment to protest SOPA and PIPA. These bills are trouble, no two ways about it. Want to do something? Contact your congressman! Call your senator! Do anything you can, because these bills must be stopped!

So. Here's the next chapter. I promise this story is going to be finished. I know this because it already is. It was done when I submitted the first chapter. That's probably going to be how I operate from now on, because I'm sick of leaving things halfway finished! Sadly, since this story is done I can say for certain that there is no violence in it. If you're waiting for Eighth Harmonic to get kicked in the face, you're going to be disappointed. I…I'm so sorry.

The stuff that Octavia mentions isn't far from the truth. There's a ton of awful stuff that can happen to your body just because you play an instrument. Cracked even wrote an article about it.

Oh, and since we don't know what Octavia's full name might be officially, I just picked one. Some people would rather it be Philharmonic, but I like Amati better.

Edit: Looks like I went and derped on the second chapter. All fixed, sorry about that!

When he walked into the lobby of Octavia's hotel Lucky almost lost what little confidence he had left; the floor tiles were probably worth more than what he made in a year. The entire room was so ornate that he couldn't help but get distracted by every tiny detail his eyes happened across. He almost couldn't see the forest for the trees. That was a figurative statement, of course; there weren't actually any trees.

Oh, there they were. A stunning fresco depicting Princess Luna in a moonlit forest was spread over the wall behind the receptionist's desk.

Lucky's eyes drifted from the fresco to the desk in front of it, and from there to the annoyed mare staring at him. He cleared his throat and said "Hi! I'm looking for a mare named Octavia." The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "We're having dinner," he continued.

"Then you'll want to meet her at the restaurant," the mare said.

"Yes! That's great. Where is it?"

The receptionist stared at him for a while and managed to convey her immeasurable frustration without the slightest change in expression. "Right this way sir," she said, and ushered Lucky out of the lobby before he frightened away potential guests.

"Wow," Lucky remarked as they went up an absurdly ornate staircase. "This place is really something."

"The Horn and Feather is the finest hotel in Canterlot," the receptionist said primly. "That, by extension, makes it the finest in all of Equestria. It provides the best accommodations possible."

"Yeah, I can see that." They reached a foyer that lead directly into an enormous dining hall. Lucky had never seen a room so big and polished. "Look," he said, "There she is!" He caught a glimpse of Octavia disappearing behind a small crowd of people. "Where's she going?"

The receptionist sighed. "I can't possibly know, sir. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to the desk. Good day."

"Right. Thanks for your help." Lucky glanced down at his outfit and tried to gauge how he looked. The only frame of reference that he had was what everypony else was wearing, and if he compared himself to the other patrons then he was severely underdressed. That was beyond his ability to help, so there was nothing left to do but put his best hoof forward.

The maître d' s nametag read 'Ash' in gilded letters. "Hey!" Lucky said cheerfully. "I'm here for Miss Octavia?"

The maître d' flipped through a few pages of a thick book and looked over several of the names. "Octavia Amati?" he asked. "Very good, sir. Right this way." Lucky followed him to Octavia's table and sat down, straining to keep from gawking at his surroundings like a country bumpkin. Octavia returned soon after he'd sat down. Lucky stood up a little too quickly when he saw her and had to catch his chair before it fell over.

Octavia had put on a little more makeup than he'd seen her with onstage, and her black dress complimented her coat perfectly. It wasn't nearly as elaborate as her surroundings; instead of being overly flamboyant it was elegant in its simplicity. Lucky wished he could think of something charming to say, but the only words he could come up with were "You are so incredibly out of my league."

Obviously that wouldn't be a good thing to say, so he just smiled. It would have to do.

Octavia was happy to see him. She smiled pleasantly when he held her chair for her, but didn't sit down. "I know I suggested this place," she said, "but would you be terribly annoyed if we ate somewhere else?"

Lucky pushed her chair back in and tried to look disappointed. He didn't want her to think that he was too happy to be leaving, even though the crushingly sophisticated atmosphere was making him uncomfortable. "Not at all! Where are we going?"

"Somewhere a little less stuffy," Octavia answered. She took his hoof with her own. "As much as I like dining here, it isn't the most relaxed atmosphere."

"I'd have to agree with you there," Lucky admitted. "It's nice and all, but I feel a bit out of place here. Let's get going."

The restaurant that Octavia picked was a complete surprise. The Gilded Trumpet, hidden so far out of the way that nopony could ever stumble across it by accident, was a jazz club that relied exclusively on word of mouth for publicity. It was a well-kept secret that was only shared from one friend to another. Lucky felt strangely honored that Octavia trusted him enough to let him in on the secret.

The bartender waved as they found a table. The lights were low and covered with red film to keep the atmosphere soothing and, in Lucky's opinion, more than a little drowsy. The soothing music coming from the stage was very good, but not as good as Octavia's.

"What do you think?" Octavia asked. "I've been coming here for years; there's something about this place that agrees with me." The lighting was playing over her, highlighting her smile and the deep lavender of her eyes.

"You got that right," Lucky said before he could stop himself. Fortunately she didn't notice. "I-I mean, uh, it's great. I wasn't expecting you to like jazz music, bein' a classical musician and all."

Octavia waved to a waitress that was passing by. "Classical music is my favorite," she said, "but it's nice to take a break from it for a while. I'd recommend the hayseed soup here if you like that sort of thing."

They ordered and the waitress nodded politely before scurrying off. "So tell me, Lucky, what does a farmer do with his free time?"

Lucky had been worried about discussing his job, thinking that she might look down on a simple farmhand. Now that he was sitting next to her he knew that had been silly; Octavia already liked him and wouldn't take issue with his job if she was half as classy as she pretended to be. It was easy to talk about what he did, and even easier to keep the conversation going.

Before long Lucky revealed that he'd been in a jazz band for a while. The band had only lasted for a week and had preformed a single time, but he insisted that at least one of the members had some measure of talent. "Blues was pretty good," he said. "The rest of us sort of weighed him down. Beltalong couldn't play the drums to save his wings and I didn't play an instrument at all. That meant I was the singer by default, even if I sounded like a hurt moose."

"I'm sure you weren't that bad," Octavia laughed. She was nursing her second drink, trying to avoid getting tipsy in front of him. "Beltalong was the weather pony, wasn't he?"

Lucky wasn't nearly as cautious when it came to drinking, but made up for it by being extremely resilient. He'd once been able to drink Big Macintosh under the table and had walked home afterwards. "Yeah, Belt was the pegasus. He was the one with the short attention span."

"I have a friend with a similar problem," Octavia said. "She tried to play the trumpet, but got bored with it. From what she tells me being a DJ is far more entertaining."

The conversation began to shift from music to friends and back to music again. Octavia had an extensive knowledge of classical artists and compositions, but she knew nothing about the more modern genres. Lucky decided to avoid discussing House of Grain or any of the other rap bands that he liked. It was an acquired taste anyway.

Octavia slowly became less reserved as the night wore on. While they ate she talked about her days in the Canterlot School of Music, one of the most prestigious organizations of its kind. Lucky knew nothing about music from an artistic standpoint, but his ignorance didn't stop him from being impressed.

Eventually the meal was finished and they were left to their talking as one band packed up and another took the stage. Octavia was laughing while Lucky talked more about the band he and a few friends had formed. He'd already mentioned Flash Bulb, a photographer pony with a terrible stutter, and how the rest of the group frequently gave him a hard time.

"S-So," Lucky was saying as the last band member left the stage, "There's this local newspaper that wants to print a story on our band, and guess who has to take the picture?"

Octavia had giggled for so long that she could hardly speak. "I just know this will end badly," she said breathlessly.

"You bet. Anyway, there's all of us standing there in our best outfits, and poor Flash is setting up his camera. He looks at us, all business, and says 'Say ch-ch-ch-cheese!'"

Octavia broke into another fit of giggles and waved a hoof helplessly. "You didn't!"

"We did!" Lucky clopped his hooves gently against the table. "All six or seven of us are standing there, and we give the biggest smiles we can-"

"S-Stop it!" Octavia begged. "Oh, stop! I can't-"

"And we all go 'Ch-ch-ch-cheese!"

A fit of laughter left both of them winded and each had to pause for a drink. "You're horrible," Octavia insisted. "Poor Flash Bulb."

"He gave back as good as he got," Lucky assured her. "That was life for us; if you didn't get teased, you didn't belong. We loved messing with each other. There was one time when Caramel's sister came to visit, and she looked so much like him that... well, never mind. That ain't appropriate dinner conversation."

"Oh dear." Octavia finished her drink, a cocktail the bartender called a 'Bourgeoisie', and set the empty glass aside. "You're quite easy to get along with; I haven't laughed like that in ages."

Lucky put on the most charming look he could muster. "Well," he said, "No offense intended, but you looked like you could use a good laugh. All this high society nonsense sounds like it weighs kinda heavy on some ponies."

"I suppose it must seem that way. To an extent you may be right."

As the next band got started on another song Lucky swirled his own drink thoughtfully. It was a thick, dark beer that most ponies wouldn't have enjoyed. "Can I ask you something?" he ventured after a moment. "What's that conductor pony got against you?"

Octavia glanced at her drink as though wishing she had more. "You don't know much about playing professionally, do you?"

"No," Lucky admitted, "You already know that my musical career ended a week or two after it started."

With a small sigh Octavia braced herself and looked at him with sad, tired eyes. "I'm an earth pony, and earth ponies don't play music."

Lucky chuckled dryly. "We obviously attended two very different auditions."

"It is quite possible that we did," Octavia sighed. "Traditionally unicorns are the only ponies that play music, and The Alicorn Sisters Orchestra is nothing if not traditional."

"So you're snubbed for being an earth pony," Lucky finished. "That ain't right. Heck, it doesn't even make sense! You're the best musician I've ever seen, and you played twice as well as anypony else tryin' for the job."

"You are very kind." It may have been the lighting, but Lucky was almost certain that she was blushing. "I'm very glad to have met you, Lucky. I've been so anxious about these auditions that I feel as though I haven't smiled in months."

Lucky drained his drink as well. "Well you should do it more often," he said. "Everypony looks better when they smile. Well, except for my uncle Saltlick; he's got no teeth." He stared at Octavia with a straight face for as long as he could manage, then broke into the giggles when he couldn't stand it any longer.

"We should go," Octavia ventured when they had finished. "I have to be at my best tomorrow."

"You'll do fine," Lucky assured her. "Trust me."

Octavia took his hoof as they left. "If I manage to pass the next round of eliminations, would you like to celebrate?" She looked fondly around at the Gilded Trumpet. "Canterlot is a big city, but the one thing that cannot be found easily is friendly company."

"Sounds great!" Lucky exclaimed. "I can't wait." When they got outside he hailed a cab and helped her inside. When he shut the door Lucky noticed a spot of red on his hoof. "What's this?" he asked. He looked down at Octavia's hooves and stifled a gasp.

"It isn't as bad as it looks," Octavia assured him. Her forelegs were weeping blood where they met her hooves. "Goodness, you look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"But doesn't that hurt?" Lucky asked. "That isn't from your cello, is it?"

Octavia shrugged, hoping to brush the issue aside. "I am far from the only pony that has bled for her music. It happens often whenever somepony plays for long periods of time. I once knew a trumpet player that bled from the lips."

Lucky wanted to get a closer look, but he knew it would make Octavia uncomfortable. "That sounds pretty unpleasant. I bet unicorns don't have to worry about stuff like that."

"Actually they do. Manipulating an instrument takes fine, delicate movements. A unicorn using magic has to contain the raw power of his or her spell to maintain perfect control, which can do terrible things to horns. Lyra's horn once fractured right in front of me. It took weeks for her to recover and it looked…exceedingly painful."

Lucky tried to imagine what it would feel like to have part of his head break open, then wished he hadn't. "I had no idea."

Octavia examined her hooves, then let them fall as though dismissing them from her awareness. "This is nothing to complain about. Surely you've seen worse on the farm."

"Sure have," Lucky said. "Big Macintosh got caught in a stampede a few years ago. He ain't as fast as Applejack, so he couldn't get out of the way in time. Luckily he was at the edge of the group."

"Was he hurt?"

Lucky chuckled. "Who, Macintosh? He was fine, but poor Bessie knocked herself cold runnin' into him like that. Must've been like hitting a brick wall."

The ride to Octavia's hotel was over too quickly for Lucky's liking. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "I'm glad you decided to spend the evening with me."

"As am I," Octavia said. "It was a pleasure, Mr. Clover." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the taxi. "Until tomorrow, then."

Lucky stared dumbly as she walked away, then yanked his mind out of the haze it had fallen into. He shut the door, thankful that Octavia hadn't seen his goofy smile, and told the pony pulling the taxi to take him back to his hotel.

"Well?" Applejack asked as Lucky walked into his hotel room. "How'd it go?"

Lucky stared first at her, then at Caramel. Big Macintosh was not present, probably because he knew Lucky wouldn't like being questioned. "How did you get into my room?"

"C'mon Luck," Caramel urged, "Spill it! We've been waitin' all night!"

"There shouldn't be any keys to my room other than the one I have with me. That's the point of a lock; it keeps ponies out if they don't have the key."

"Where'd you go?" Applejack asked. "What was she like? Come on, Lucky, out with it!"

Lucky fought the urge to sigh contentedly. "It went great," he said. "We went to a jazz club and talked for a while. She's classy, but not snooty like a lot of high-society types." He looked over at Caramel, who was stifling a grin. "What?"

"Nothin'," Caramel said innocently

"Anyways, I'm watching her play again tomorrow. She's an amazing musician and she's tryin' out for Celestia's private orchestra. I mean, can you imagine the pressure?"

"That's m-mighty impressive," Applejack giggled. "Come on Caramel, let's go. Romeo here had quite a night and he needs his rest."

Lucky shut the door behind them and pulled off his tie. Applejack had been right; he hadn't realized until now how tired he was. He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, but he decided to take a shower first.

As he was walking into the bathroom Lucky caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Octavia's lipstick had left an outline of her lips on his cheek. "Guess that explains what they were laughin' about," he mused. He didn't wipe it off just yet.

After the shower, while he was lying in bed and waiting for sleep to claim him, Lucky thought about Octavia's music. She was gifted to the point of near genius, as anypony in the audience today had seen. There was no reason she couldn't do anything she set her mind to.

And, a quiet but insistent little voice in the back of his mind whispered, She wants to see me again. Let's not forget the best part. Octavia Amati wants to spend time with Lucky Clover. Dear sweet Celestia, if this is a dream then don't let me wake up.

Lucky woke up the next day and immediately wished he'd slept in later. Octavia's audition wasn't until late in the afternoon and he had nothing to do until then but look forward to it. He ate breakfast with the family and suffered through the endless barrage of questions, pretending that he wasn't embarrassed.

After breakfast Lucky went back to what he'd been doing for most of his time in the city: wandering around with no clear destination in mind. He eventually found his way to the museum connected to the concert hall. There were plenty of paintings and statues to look at, but nothing really caught his interest.

Finally it was time. Lucky took his seat excitedly and waited for Eighth Harmonic to start the show. The auditions today were especially short, with only two ponies and a griffon taking the stage.

Octavia's audition was as powerful and moving as before. Once again she grabbed the audience with the force of her music and refused to let go until the song was finished. Lucky was sure that she'd be accepted into the orchestra; nopony, no matter how snobbish they might be, could deny how talented she was.

When the show was finished Lucky waited outside for Octavia. She didn't leave right away, but appeared only after everypony else was gone. She followed Eighth Harmonic down the steps, cello balanced on her back. Lucky wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but Octavia looked desperate.

A private carriage was waiting for Eighth Harmonic at the curb. When he reached it he turned and said something angrily to Octavia that made her flinch and back away. Lucky thought he could pick out the words "go home".

"B-But wait!" Octavia argued, "This ain't fair!" Octavia choked on her next words and backed away, covering her mouth with a hoof.

Eighth Harmonic looked over at Lucky, who was sitting on the same bench he'd been using for the last several days. "I'd advise you to get rid of the bumpkin," the unicorn sniffed. "He is clearly starting to rub off on Day, Miss Amati." He then climbed into the carriage and rode off as though he hadn't just torn somepony's dream apart.

"You alright?" Lucky called. Octavia spun around, obviously surprised to see him. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," Octavia assured him. "I'm sorry it took so long, I forgot that you'd be waiting out here."

"Doesn't look like nothin' to me," Lucky insisted. Octavia refused to look at him. "If you want to talk, I'd be happy to listen."

"The part was given to Plucky Strings," Octavia explained. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I have to go now, so….it was nice seeing you."

Lucky watched numbly as she climbed into a taxi. "That ain't fair," he said quietly. "No sir." He looked back at the concert hall, then at the rapidly dwindling carriage Harmonic had rode off in. "What a jerk."