LXXII

304 20 15
                                    

Brett suggested, after all those long notes in the sorrowful, longing bit, their Adagio should change the tempo, pick up the pace a bit.
"It should be like we take little, but sure steps toward the future."
"I like that", Eddy said, putting the violin on his shoulder.
"Maybe something like this?", Brett asked, playing a set of spiccatos after a quick, downward run. "And then-" His fingers danced across the fingerboard, his bow followed the string crossings flawlessly and it was like the sun rose over them.

There was no need for Eddy to comment on what Brett had just played. The score filled itself with new notes. The ones that had just echoed through the hallway.
Eddy looked at Brett and nodded once with a victorious smile, lighting Brett's face up. "Yup. That'll do."
"And then", Eddy continued, "we stay there. Play high notes?"
His fingers mirrored his speech, searching for the right melody on his instrument as he picked up parts of the motive of Brett's piece. He needed a few attempts, but then, when the direction got clearer, Brett joined in with a second line and more black dots appeared on the thick paper while their violins sung a not less mournful tune than the preceding part.

Their piece climaxed on a set of high, clear tones with the motive being crowned ethereally. And once again, it took everything for them to play this short part. Every ounce of their soul, their being was poured into it and at the same time, there was a sense of letting go, flying above all that had held them back, had made them miserable and sick and they were soaring into a dark blue, limitless sky.

It ended on a major chord. It had to. Because now, it was all good, full of hope and light.

And when Brett and Eddy opened their eyes and blinked at the score, there was a bold double bar line behind the fresh notes.
"It's done", Brett whispered, frozen on the spot with the bow still half in the air.
Eddy turned to Brett. "I know we talk a lot about the feels at the moment, but do you feel like it's finished? Does it need anything more?"
"Let's play it again", Brett suggested, his bow shaking minutely when he placed it on the strings.
"I play second", Eddy said, picked up the score and put it on the handrail. For this, they had to stand up and play properly.

What was it with this piece, drawing tears out from deep within everytime Eddy played it? They both knew the first part by heart now, having played it multiple times, so it was very easy for them to lose themselves in the melancholic, almost gut-wrenching melody. When Eddy glanced at Brett, he noticed that the other wasn't unaffected either, but the smaller's expression turned more determined when they reached the transition towards the climax, in which everything came together. The agony from all those seemingly lost years being acknowleged and let go, before both of them went on, freed.

Yes, the piece was complete.

"So, that's it", Eddy said eventually.
"I guess so." Brett lowered his violin and settled with staring at the piece, written out in the score.
"It's beautiful."
"It is."

As they looked at what they've composed, something nudged at Eddy's brain.
"Uhm, and now?"
"What now?", Brett asked back, tearing his gaze away from the notes with a frown.
"We did what she told us to, didn't we? Why haven't you woken up yet?"
"Oh", Brett made, lips forming a perfect circle. "Yeah, you're right. Why am I not outta here?"
"Are we missing something?"
Brett scratched his chin while Eddy picked up the score and flipped through every page. Obviously, there were a lot of blank pages, but he couldn't imagine their piece needing any addition. Did they have to write another movement? Deep down however, Eddy could sense that this would suffice. So was there anything else they had to do with that piece?

Right when he finished that string of thought, a glint lit up Brett's eyes.
"Of course!"
"What?" Eddy asked dumbfounded.
"A piece written out is no use if it isn't performed. Eddy, we need to perform it!"
As soon as Brett had declared his discovery, Eddy instantly knew Brett was right! It was during a performance, where music could really come to life and be shared with the world.
"That must be it!"
"And in order to perform it, we need to practice first! Let's play it multiple times, switch first and second and then decide on who should play which line. You down?"
"You bet!"

And like this, they launched into a drawn out practice session in which they focused on nailing the intonation, bringing the intervals together and synch their ideas in terms of dynamics so they could really bring out the tension inside a phrase. It was so much fun. So much fun to practice intensively with Brett, to discuss certain parts and to experience how they both improved with each run through. Eddy was convinced, if he could just do this for the rest of his life, he'd be perfectly happy and fulfilled. And when he looked at Brett and saw the sparks in his eyes lighting up his surroundings, when he heard the enthusiasm in each word Brett spoke, he would dare to bet his violin that Brett felt similar.

"This is coming along nicely, man!", Brett thused after a particularly smooth run through, "We'll be ready in no time!"
"You think we need more practice?"
"Not much more, to be honest. You like to play first or second?"
They had switched several times by now and Eddy felt comfortable playing both.
"This is about you waking up, Brett", he then stated after giving it some thought, "I think it's only right when you play first."
"You sure?", Brett asked, his head tilted to one side.
Eddy nodded. "Very!"
Brett mirrored his action. "Alright."

They positioned their instruments again and played. Brett first. Eddy second. It clenched their hearts and souls. It drew out tears yet again and when they reached the climax, it was like blinding, white sunlight broke through dark, heavy clouds, like rain drops just froze midair and dissipated, leaving a mist which broke the light on an endless spectrum, painting a bright rainbow all over the sky.

When it ended, all Eddy could do was put down his violin and envelop Brett in an admittedly surprising, tight hug as silent tears made their way down the side of his face and ultimately into Brett's shirt. It took Brett only a second or two to hug him back almost equally fierce.

FantasiaWhere stories live. Discover now