Dynamics (Twoset Violin Fanfic)

Chapter Seventeen

Brett was panicking. He'd been so distracted talking to Eddy that he'd missed his call with James. And for the first time in three years, his brother was not answering the phone.

It's only one call, Brett reminded himself. We'll probably talk again tomorrow.

But their daily call was their only form of communication. Without it, he'd have no idea what his family was doing. His brother and parents might as well live on another planet. Logically, Brett knew that James' lunch break had ended, and he was probably working and not on his phone. But he couldn't help but wonder if this was it if this was how he lost his brother and his last fraying connection to his parents too.

Snap out of it, he thought to himself. He just had to get to the apartment. There, he could find some empty room and figure out what to do next. That was what he always did. Despite everything he disliked about living there, it was still his home. And it was the one place where no one was watching or judging and he could just think.

But first, he needed his car.

...which he had left at the circus studio. Because he was talking to Eddy, who liked his voice and could smile at him and make the whole world would fall away, leaving just the two of them—

Focus. Get to the studio, get in the car, drive home.

He tore down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians. By the time he got to the studio's parking lot, he was sweaty and out of breath.

He dug the keys out of his bag and started the car. Backing out of the lot, he heard a loud horn and slammed on the brakes. The driver of the other car cursed and continued at five miles per hour.

Brett took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. He just had to drive about two miles. He could do that.

Ignoring his still shaking hands, he slowly drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. Driving extra carefully, he made it to the apartment only a few minutes faster than usual. By that time, his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his throat. After an excruciatingly slow elevator ride, he ran to the door, fumbled in his bag with his keys. Just as he was about to open the lock, he heard loud electronic music through the door.

Because, of course. The first day he misses James' call, the first day of never talking to James and his parents again, his roommates decide to throw a party.

Brett tried to breathe. He would talk to James again. He would figure everything out. Hands still trembling, he unlocked the door.

To his surprise, a man caught the door before it fully opened and peered through the frame.

"Whaaat's your nameee," the man slurred, gripping the door with one hand and a phone in the other.

"Brett," Brett mumbled and slipped through the half-open door.

Or, at least, he tried to. Because the next thing he knew, he was being blocked by the man, who was well over 2 meters tall.

"You'reee not on the list," the man said, showing his phone screen and drunkenly scrolling through a list of names.

"I live here," Brett said slowly and clearly. "I opened the door with my key." He lifted the keys for emphasis. He'd talked to a drunk Kevin or Tyler plenty of times, but one of their friends playing bouncer— that was new.

"Not on the list," the man said in a sing-song voice.

I could force him out of the way.

The thought came so suddenly that Brett was momentarily speechless. The other man was drunk, so his balance and coordination were probably terrible. He wasn't strong, either. His too-tight sleeveless shirt outlined biceps and abs, but that was about it. "Show muscles," Coach Henry would have said. "Good for pictures, but they don't do much by themselves."

If I wanted to, I could force him out of the way.

Not to mention the fact that the other man wouldn't remember anything the next day.

But then I'd be the guy who shoves people.

And that thought scared him so much that he stammered out something incomprehensible and ran. Back to the elevator, out of the building, not caring where he was going, just anywhere, anywhere away.

When he ran out of breath, he looked around and found he was in the park. The same part of it where he had run into those strange goth kids— Belle and her friends, he realized. Except now he was alone. And he definitely wasn't going back to that stupid apartment.

He could call one of his friends. He had hundreds of contacts in his phone, and maybe twenty of them were close enough to pick him up and had room for him to spend the night.

But it felt wrong. He'd text them every now and then— those twenty people, that is— but he didn't quite feel close to them. He needed someone who wouldn't judge him, or pressure him into going back, or make him feel like they were doing him a favor. He had plenty of friends, but none of them could really—

Eddy.