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"I…", Eddy began and cleared his throat, "I didn't mean to be, I mean, I didn't want to be a prick to you. I… I'm sorry."
Brett was sure he'd misunderstood. Cold-hearted Eddy Chen apologized?
"Uh… I don't know what to say", Brett meant honestly. 

They sat there in silence again. Some of the other musicians were coming back now, filling the hall with chatter, laughter and sounds of their instruments. Brett carefully glanced at Eddy and when he caught the other's half panicked gaze, he smiled. Eddy hesitantly smiled back.

The rest of the morning went by much faster, and much more agreeable for Brett.

However, his good mood went down the drains rapidly when he was in a practice room by himself during lunch break after he'd wolfed down a dry sandwich from the cafeteria. This afternoon, he and Eddy would both play parts of the concerto with the orchestra and he really had to get his shit together, otherwise there would be no qualification round necessary at all. 
"Fuck!", he hissed for what felt like the thousandth time in this setting, sheet music in front of him, violin in hand and failing hard at the cadenza. And for the thousandth time, he tried to breath in deeply, tried to slow practice and gradually build up tempo. And for the thousandth time, it didn't work. 
"SHIT!", Brett yelled too loudly, but he was past caring. He gave the nearby stool a kick in an outburst of anger and frustration, which resulted in it tipping over and falling to the ground with a semi loud crash.

And then, someone knocked. 
Brett buried his face in his hands and just so held back a groan. 
"Yes?", he pressed out instead, when he felt he wasn't going to have a proper meltdown for good. 
The door opened and Eddy's head appeared, expression unsure, like he was entering forbidden ground.

Brett glanced at him and only just managed not to let his mouth fall open in surprise. 
"What… Eddy?"
"Uhm… I'm next door and heard… well", he pointed towards the poor furniture on the ground. 
"Oh, sorry 'bout that", Brett mumbled and felt his cheeks flare up in embarrassment. What were the chances? There were like dozens of practice rooms and Eddy just happened to be next to his? And now, he was seeing Brett's best side once again and Brett felt more and more like an idiot.
"You okay?", Eddy asked carefully, still with only his head sticking in. 
Brett hesitated. Was it smart to let his rival know how it was going? What good would come from it? But then again…
"Nah. Not really."
"Same reason from this morning?"
"Huh?", Brett made, not recalling what Eddy was referring to. 
"You said you were doing terribly. Is it because of…" His index finger motioned towards the violin Brett was holding. 
"Uhm, yeah. I don't know. I can't get the fast parts and the cadenza right and we're up with the orchestra this afternoon. And how the hell am I supposed to perform, let alone play against you when my fingers just won't listen? They cramp up or can't keep up with my bow speed and it's driving me crazy!"
Brett was a bit breathless after his rant. Eddy stared at him, looking almost comical with the door hiding everything but his head.
"You wanna come in?", Brett finally said. Eddy nodded once and when he stepped in, Brett saw that he was carrying his own violin. 
"Were you practicing?", the smaller asked. Eddy bobbed his head again. "You're saying the fast bits are giving you a hard time?"
"Mhm", Brett made, put the stool on its feet again and sat down on it. "You won't have to worry about me, dude. I suck."
"Has that happened before?"
"Nah. Not like this. I had it down at home, you know. Or at least I think I did. I'm not sure anymore."
Eddy pursed his lips as his features got pensive. "I see. And other fast bits? From other pieces?"
"Ha!", Brett exclaimed, "I thought about that too. Tried playing Tchaik yesterday and that worked fine. It's Korngold. It's cursed."
Eddy snorted. Brett looked at him, at his amused expression. It was the first time he'd seen Eddy like this. 
"Uhm", Eddy made when he caught himself again and cleared his throat, "Have you joined other competitions before?"
"Yeah", Brett meant, a bit unsure where this was going. Was Eddy interrogating him? Trying to extract intel so he'd know how to face Brett? Brett knew these thoughts were bullshit and besides, as stated earlier, Eddy probably had no reason to worry at all.
"And how did those go? Has that happened in other competitions?"
Brett thought back. He'd won the Bach prize last year with his Andante from the second sonata, but since this was a slow, yet very technical piece, he wasn't sure if he could compare it with this situation. There were countless smaller, local competitions and he'd always been a bit nervous, of course. But it has never affected his playing like it did now. 
So he said, "No, not like this."
"Hmm"

Eddy walked over to a typical practice room piano standing by the wall and leaned against it, his gaze absent as he plucked the strings of his violin.
"Uhm, so I have no idea if this will work, but I've encountered similar situations before", Eddy said after a bit, "And what I do is, I take the passage and play around a bit. Change the tempo in the middle, sometimes play it backwards."
"Backwards?", Brett asked incredulously. 
"Yeah, or play it in a different octave, stuff like that. It helps to take the horror away from it, you know what I mean?"
"Like, it gets less intimidating?"
"Exactly. I mean, it's kind of a special situation here and if Korngold's not really your piece, it can be stressful."
"Is it for you too?", Brett blurted out. 
Eddy knit his eyebrows while the corners of his mouth lifted themselves with a small huff. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Dunno. All I heard from you is that you play really well and you practice a lot! You're first year, right?"
"Yeah, but so are you, aren't you?"
"How old are you?", Brett said while simultaneously wondering how Eddy knew that Brett was in the same year as him. They hadn't gotten any information about the other beforehand and Brett couldn't recall telling Eddy. Had he talked to someone about Brett like he did? But considering his lonely wolf-image and the fact that Brett had never seen him speak to anyone except him, it was very unlikely. Maybe Eddy's teacher had told him?
"Seventeen."
Damn it!
"You're one year younger than I am and I'm the one freaking out here! You're like… I don't know! You kinda give off prodigy vibes, you know?"
Eddy could have said all kind of things to what Brett had just rambled, but all he voiced was a soft, "You're eighteen?"
"Well, yeah. Like all the normal first years! How did you even manage to get in this early?"
"Good grades. And lots of practice", Eddy meant with a shrug, "Also, I won this competition the Sydney con organizes every year to recognize new talent. I guess that's why I actually got in."
One could have easily categorized what Eddy had just said as a flex, a massive one at that. But his tone led Brett to think otherwise. It was more like he was stating some facts. Very neutral, almost unemotional. 
"But I don't see myself as a prodigy or whatever. There are a ton of issues I have to work on too. So to answer your question: Yes, I get nervous too. Of course I do!"
"Oh, I see", Brett mumbled and suddenly felt bad for what he'd said. He knew Eddy for a day now and this was by far the longest conversation they'd had. So just labeling him as some prodigy wasn't exactly unprejudiced.
"Alright! You wanna try?" Eddy pointed his bow at Brett's violin. 
"Ah, yeah. I guess."
"Basically it's trying to detach from the pressure the piece gives you. I guess you can start with whatever, it doesn't really matter."
"Okay…"
Brett put his violin on his shoulder and tuned. And with a breath in, he was off.