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XXVIII

“I know I’m basically a stranger to you”, Brett meant, despite him feeling like he’d known Eddy for years. He couldn’t recall having a conversation this intense with any of his friends till now. With Cole maybe, once or twice, but that must be about it. 
With Eddy, talks where a lot was on the line seemed to be the norm somehow. 
“But would you please tell me where this idea that you have to be perfect is coming from?”
Eddy remained silent for a long time, fingers kneading each other while he avoided Brett’s gaze.

“It’s how it’s supposed to be”, he then whispered, gripping the sides of the chair he was sitting on so hard his knuckles turned white. 
“Why?”
“Because…”, he hesitated, inhaled sharply and opened his mouth again just to let it snap shut. Brett was dying to ask follow-up questions and entice out an answer. However, this wasn’t about him satisfying his curiosity. This was about helping Eddy.
“I’ve always been good at playing the violin”, Eddy sighed, sounding defeated. 
Brett nodded. Of course he’d been.
“So my family always had high hopes for me. High expectations too, maybe. And as a kid, it was fine. I liked that they were proud of me. I always won all the competitions I joined with ease and was called a prodigy by local newspapers. It does a lot for your self-esteem if you get to hear that from a young age, you know.”
“I can imagine.” Brett had gotten lots of compliments for his playing too when he was young, but he’d rarely been called a prodigy. At least not by "serious" people, like musicians or pros. 
“But as I got older, I started to realize what was required to reach my goal of becoming a soloist, because there’s never been any other option than that. How can a prodigy NOT become a soloist? I did everything, spent every waking minute practicing. That, actually, hasn’t changed.”

Alright. Brett started to understand where Eddy was coming from. Lots of pressure, not only from his family, but also from himself. Maybe mostly from himself? Of course he’d think there wasn’t any room for error.
“I eventually realized there are hundreds of thousands of young musicians out in the world who’d kick my ass in a competition. That I wasn’t that special. Maybe I was in my little bubble. But compared to all these other prodigies, I’m no one! If I was, I should have won the Menuhin long ago!”
“So, you worked even harder”, Brett mumbled as a conclusion.
Eddy nodded. “I can’t fail, Brett. I’ve set this goal and I can’t let down my mum! Especially not after-” 
He cut off. Brett looked up at him with a frown. 
Eddy took a deep breath, like he had to keep his composure. The slight tremble of his lips betrayed him though. 
“After what?”, Brett asked very softly, almost not daring to.
“Argh! Fuck this!”, Eddy cursed, voice shooting up a fifth. 
“Bro, you don’t need to tell me anything, remember? Nothing you’re not ready to share. It’s just…”
Eddy’s eyes, clearly watering now, shot him a questioning glance. 
“I feel like it might help, to not carry stuff by yourself, you know”, Brett said.
The taller blinked, quickly rubbed his eyes and filled his lungs with air again. 

“My father died about two years ago.”
Shock flooded Brett’s system upon hearing this information. “Oh…”
“My mum’s been very lonely. We all have been.” The voice Eddy now used, it sounded distant, like he was telling another person’s story and not something so personal, and so very painful. 
“I promised my parents to become successful when they let me go to the con. Let me pursue my dream of becoming a soloist. My dad was always proud of me and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna disappoint them!”

No wonder Eddy had no fun playing the violin. No wonder he was so focused on whatever benefited his career and not what he liked to explore for himself. No wonder nothing else than the soloist spot in orchestra camp was acceptable for him. 

“Jesus”, Brett mumbled. 
“You get it now?”, Eddy croaked, “I have to do everything in my power to get to the top. And I have to erase all flaws that could hinder me. But, ironically” A laugh escaped Eddy, a bitter one. “One of the things I sacrificed might be what keeps me from bringing life into my playing.”
“What your teacher said this afternoon?”
Another bitter cackle. It sounded so hollow it gave Brett goosebumps.
“Yeah. That’s why I tried so hard this evening and yet, I failed. Talking with people is just not my thing for fucks sake! Because all I did these years was practice. And because I’m just not the type. It’s not that I’ve missed being around people to begin with.”
“You didn’t fail, Eddy”, Brett stated quietly. 
“You keep saying that, but I know I did. And everyone noticed.”
“And I will keep telling you that this was nothing. That it’s totally normal to react like that, in a new group anyway. You know how long you’ve practiced your violin to get to your level? Being with people takes practice too.”

A shimmer of something when Eddy eyed Brett. A shimmer was good, right? Better than the dark void of hopelessness from before. 
“Maybe…”, Eddy finally sighed.
“Of course! What? You think you can be the group’s alpha if you haven’t spent one second talking to them?”
Eddy snorted, genuinely this time and a load of a thousand Suzuki student books left Brett’s chest, making it easier to breathe.
“You might have a point here.”
“And Eddy, for what it’s worth. I get that this is hard to believe after such a long time, but there’s no way you ever gonna do perfectly in every field.” 
The other flinched. “Ouch.”
“Hard to hear, I know. But you have to stop living like that. It will destroy you.”

Brett was perfectly aware that it might not be his place to tell Eddy all this. And that it was highly unlikely Eddy was going to change anything just after hearing those few words from Brett. Nonetheless, he had to try. It was all he could do. 

Eddy stared down at his hands in his lap. “But… what do I do instead?”
“Huh?”, Brett made.
“I’ve done nothing else than following this goal. Of course I know it’s not possible to be perfect, but I still want to strive for it. But if this is wrong… what else should I do?”
Brett scratched his head and pulled a chair towards him, finally having mercy with his sore legs after being in the same kneeling position for so long. “It’s not wrong per se, you know. I guess, classical music does require a certain level of perfectionism in our playing. My point is, if that’s all you ever want, it can be problematic in the long run.”
“Maybe…, Eddy said, looking so much like a lost puppy Brett couldn’t hold his hand back, which placed itself on those big palms on Eddy’s upper legs. 
“Take one step at a time maybe? Start with what Ms. Li said and spend some time with us? You’re off to a great start, I tell you. How you stood up to Lauren, that impressed even her. And believe me, she's not the type to give people credit easily.”
“Spend time with you…”, Eddy mumbled, not retracting his hand. Brett took that as a good sign and gave him an encouraging squeeze. 

And then, Eddy smiled. It was a tiny one, almost imperceptible, but it was the first one since they’d entered this room.
“I can try that.”