It was 8 pm, right after dinner...

XXII

Somehow, Brett had kind of feared, that Eddy had just staged his liking for the necklace. Like one would pretend to love grandma's Christmas gift as a kid, although it's "just" a pair of really cheesy Christmas socks. They were okay-ish, but you'd never wear them regularly, or maybe even ever. And especially not in public or when you're out with friends.
But of course, you'd still express your more or less genuine gratitude towards the giver and Eddy had almost overdone that part in the park... not that Brett was complaining.

And as far as Brett could tell, Eddy did indeed "love it", like he'd said. He could tell by how Eddy almost wore it daily, even in front of the camera, how he subconsciously stroked the chain and the pendent with his fingers, when he was in thought, how he sometimes looked at it with a soft gaze. He'd observe Eddy from the corner of his eyes whenever he'd do said actions and it always made Brett's heart flutter in a weird, happy way.

These were usually little bits of highlights of his days, on which by now he often had to deal with a dizzy, pounding head and/or a weird stomach.

Today, his head was particularly bitchy and Brett groaned, while he packed their filming gear. They wanted to do some filming in a music studio with red curtains for their "C.B.F" MV. At least his face would have the right expression for this project.

"Is your head still hurting?", Eddy asked, while he passed by to get his violin case.
"Yeah, but it's fine. I took a pain med already."
"You okay to film though?"
"If I wouldn't be, I'd tell! You have to trust me on that, Eddy, and not always ask. It annoys me and you too, certainly", Brett snapped back, sounding more irritated than he intended and immediately added a quiet "Sorry".
Eddy just lightly touched his shoulder. "It's alright, I get it."

They arrived at the studio a bit late, because Eddy had forgotten, that their appointment had been half an hour earlier. Not that Brett wasn't used to being late with Eddy... Luckily, the people managing the room were chill and they still had time to set up everything and start fiming.

It wasn't a "nice" track to play or listen to, more like modern music with a depressing vibe at the end, a few runs added here and there and a electronic backing track thrown in, fitting the meaning. So the song/piece wasn't particularly soothing for Brett's pounding head. He still liked the setting though, with Eddy sitting at the piano, playing accompaniment to his C, B, F-melody composed by Jordon.

Eddy pressing piano keys and playing accompaniment for him was an unusual occurence. Whenever Brett heard or saw Eddy play the piano, it was either for a perfect pitch guess the piece/song/jingle challenge, where Brett would prove his pure bred classical musician identity by knowing close to zero songs, or when Eddy would use the piano to arrange something. That didn't happen often though and what was even rarer, was Eddy playing piano just for fun or practice. After all, he had his violin bae to look after.

So Brett kind of enjoyed being accompanied by his best friend, even if it only was for a kind of brainfart piece they came up with as a joke.

And had Eddy always looked so.... there was no other word Brett could think of than "handsome" sitting by the piano? That guy wasn't even really playing and still, it was very difficult for Brett to avert his eyes. Eddy's bit of curled hair enhanced this impression and even his deadpan stare into the camera and his slouched C.B.F-position didn't minimize the effect Brett felt Eddy had on him.

What the hell?? Was it the red curtains in the back? They certainly didn't help with neutralizing his thoughts. Or was it generally a thing that Brett suddenly had developed without him knowing, finding anyone sitting by a grand looking dashing? No, it couldn't be. He had recently rewatched an old video with them and Sophie Oui Oui and it hadn't triggered any weird feelings whatsover.
So, he simply must have gone mad, Brett thought, while he stared at the one, who caused all these troubles for him, through the lense of one of the cameras.

"Bro, what is it? Is the camera not focusing or what? You've been checking for forever now!", Eddy on the piano stool finally asked. Brett froze, felt kind of caught and quickly got up.
"No, everything good! Let's start!"

He took his violin and tuned, nodded to Eddy and started to play the first notes, putting on the most deadpan face he could muster.

But in the middle of the tenth bar, an image of how Eddy probably looked behind him popped into Brett's brain and his impassive expression broke. His bow skitted and he had to shake his head in order to get everything distracting out of his system.

"You alright bro? It's not that difficult to play, you know", Eddy teased. Brett just flipped him off without getting a sight of him, because that would be very unhelpful now, and restarted, while trying to concentrate solely on his playing and the camera.

It went okay, but Brett really had to block out everything else except the music, which had been more exhausting than filming itself.
He yawned and rubbed his forehead in order to decrease the pain, while he started to pack away their gear.

The beginning notes of Claire de Lune rang through the studio, soft, gentle and so very sweet. Brett didn't have to turn around to know, who was the one playing it, but since filming was over, he allowed himself to let his eyes confirm his strong suspicion.
The way the light was shining through the curtains drenched everything around the piano in red. Maybe that's why it seemed so unreal, the image of Eddy playing his favourite piece with closed eyes, his body moving to the music while he pressed the keys.

Brett could do nothing else than to stare at his best friend with misty eyes, taking in the music and imprinting this moment in his heart without even realizing it himself. He held his breath, the unpacked mic still in his hand.

Eddy must have noticed Brett's unproductivity, because he opened his eyes and directly looked at Brett. He smiled and gestured at the space next to him on the stool.
Brett unfroze and took careful steps towards Eddy, like he didn't want to disrupt the music. Like he wasn't sure if he'd be really allowed to take a seat. But he did, first maintaining some kind of distance, before Eddy closed those few polite centimeters with his body shifting to get better access to the higher notes.

And like this, Brett was captured. Enveloped in Debussy's musical interpretation of the moon and enveloped by Eddy's closeness. And he could do nothing else then to marvel at Eddy's hands, slowly dancing over the piano keys and take in his scent, which seemed even sweeter than the music.

The piece ended and both remained silent. Out of respect for the musician, Brett told himself, but he knew deep down it was, because he didn't want to break the atmosphere in which he felt so deeply safe, peaceful and happy and yet so moved and touched by what he'd just experienced. He didn't want to start thinking about why. Eddy had played this piece a million times in his presence and it had never affected him. He'd always liked it fine, how Eddy played it. But not like this. Never like this...

Eddy was the first to move. He turned his head and looked at Brett, a soft smile on his face. Brett told himself to move, talk, continue packing up, do anything. But he remained stunned, his gaze on the black and white keys.

"Brett?", Eddy asked, his voice as soft as his eyes. He tilted his head and took the mic out of Brett's hand, his own lingering a bit longer than necessary around Brett's.
"Careful, it's gonna fall and break", he simply whispered.
Finally, Brett snapped out of his rigour. Flustered, he quickly shoot up and cleared his throat.
"Oh!", he mustered, "Sorry! Yeah! Good thing you took it. I'm gonna just continue packing, so we can leave soon. Don't want to pay more than we already do!"

And as Brett put away their stuff, Eddy just looked at him with a wondrous smile on his face.