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LVIII

“The first movement, hey.”
“Uhm… yeah. Do you think that’s a bad idea?”
Ben smiled. “Not at all. It shows courage that you choose it despite the passages which gave you trouble last time. But since we’ve worked them out, you’ll be fine.”
“Your tips and teaching really helped. Thanks again!”
“Have you played it with the orchestra again?”
“I have. This morning actually.”
“How did it go?”
“Fine. Mr. Jones meant I should go with the first movement afterwards.”
“I see”, Ben’s smile widened and he took his violin from the piano. The practice room they were being cramped in this afternoon was even tinier than the ones Brett had been before. Brett feared his bow was going to hit the blue soundboard as soon as he would start playing and there wasn’t even a window. 
“Well, shall we start then?”
“Sure”, Brett exhaled, propped up his violin, got into position and closed his eyes before his bow touched the strings. 

   “Hey, you done?”
   “Just finishing up here. You?”
   “How can you text when you’re still in your lesson? 🤨”
   “On my way back from the bathroom.”
   “I see. Can we meet up far away from the orchestra? Don’t wanna run into a certain someone.”
   “Starting to feel bad for her, tbh 🙈”
   “Hey! You should feel bad for me!”
   “😂Gonna reach the practice room soon. Back door in ten?”
   “👍”

Brett looked at the first string of texts he’d ever exchanged with the newest contact on his phone. 
“Girlfriend?”, Ben asked while packing up, his white, simple, yet expensive looking button up half open to deal with the ridiculous heat in this room, which aircond had left them hanging after halfway through the afternoon. 
“What? No!”, Brett quickly denied and stuffed the phone in his pocket. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry”, Ben sniggered and shouldered his case, “You just smiled in a certain dreamy way while staring at the screen, so I thought…”
“I have no girlfriend”, he blurted out stupidly in panic. Not that it was Ben’s business anyway.
Ben laughed. “Alright, alright. I believe you. Anyway.” His features turned more serious now. “Do you think you’re ready for tomorrow?”

To be honest, Brett hadn’t been as focused as he’d liked during the lesson. The masterclass had been helpful for sure and he’d learnt a ton with Ben giving him so much helpful advice he couldn't tell if he was actually going to remember them tomorrow, tweaking Brett’s bow arm, making sure his vibrato was controlled and his tone clear and crisp; but his mind had drifted absent more often than not, letting images of a blushing Eddy with soft eyes and a certain word starting with the letter "B" passing by before his inner eye.

“Brett?”
“Sorry”, he shook his head to get the vivid pictures out. Of one stunning boy, playing the violin flawlessly, “I hope so.”
“Nervous?”
Now? Now, he was a bit too preoccupied to concentrate on the competition. 
“Not yet. But I know what a wreck I’m gonna be tomorrow.”
“Well, think of whom you thought just now”, Ben winked with a glint of mischief, making Brett flinch, “I reckon you’ll be fine then. For sure actually, considering you can play in this tiny room without having hit me with your bow…”
“Are you going to be there too?”
“Unfortunately I can’t. We’re playing a concert tomorrow ourselves. But you’ll be fine, I’m sure.” 
“I see…”
“Any last questions?” Ben gave Brett a pat on his shoulder. 
“Uhm…”, Brett made, trying to grasp anything not involving Eddy Chen and that could be helpful to know for the competition, “How do you deal with stage fright? I mean, if that’s even a thing you experience.”
Ben nodded. “Of course I do. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It was particularly bad back when I did the Tchaikovsky Competition.”
“But you won!”, Brett threw in.
“I did”, Ben said, “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared shitless. Hmm, what do I do when I get nervous...” He scratched his chin and pursed his lips, eyes roaming the once white ceiling. "For me, I’m most nervous before I go on stage. As soon as I play and I can kind of enter a zone, I’m mostly good.”
Brett bobbed his head once. “Same here.”
“So it’s the pacing around backstage before it’s your turn to walk out?”
“Yeah. And when I have to tune in front of everyone.”
“Oh yeah”, Ben agreed, “That’s bad too. But you'll get used to it. Anyway, for me, breathing helps. Regular, slow breathing. And whenever it gets really awful, I actually put my violin away the last few minutes before I go on stage.”
“Really?”, Brett said, surprised. This was usually the time when he entered the stress practice zone, shredding scales and tricky fast parts all over the place.
“Yes. It doesn’t help to butcher the piece right before the concert, you know.”
Guilt struck, Brett ducked down a bit. 
“Instead, I try to imagine my happy place or a person that calms me down, who gives me some sense of security and peace.”
Like how Brett had pictured Eddy standing next to him just this morning?
“I think I get what you mean.”
“And most of all, it’s also part of performance practice. The more you perform and go through this, the more reliable those techniques get and you'll very likely find out more ways which can help you. It doesn’t mean you won’t get nervous anymore. Maybe less, but it’ll still happen. And then it’s important to know what calms you down or how you can use your nervousness to your advantage. That’s also a way, but a riskier one, I reckon.”
“If I do that, I just play much faster than I should”, Brett remarked, thinking of all the times he’d rushed the tempo to let it match his pulse.
“Exactly! If it’s a fast piece and you’re playing it controlled, why not? But you’ll lose control quickly if your emotions get the better of you.”
“Yeah, I tend to do that.”
“Then, especially with the first movement, stick to getting calm in whatever way that helps.”
Brett nodded again. “Thank you so much, Ben, for everything.”

Ben’s smile was uplifting to say the least as he opened the door, letting in some much needed fresh and cooler air. “You’re welcome. It was a pleasure working with you, Brett. I wish you all the best for tomorrow! I’m certain you’re gonna do great!”
And with that said, he strode off, probably to find Mr. Jones to bid his goodbye. 

In whatever way that helps, huh.

Brett pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen just to stare at the last messages he’d received and exchanged while different images of Eddy flooded his brain:
Eddy smiling encouragingly at him, his hand on Brett’s shoulder; Eddy standing at the soloist spot, all lights illuminating his tall figure while he majestically drew his bow over the strings; Eddy’s soft gaze, only centimeters in front of him, his glistening lips slightly parted…

Brett’s grip around his device tightened dangerously as he frantically moved his head left and right, his hair flying in all directions. Then, he grit his teeth and started to type at lightning speed.

   “Hey Eddy! Kinda have to see Cole for a moment, so I’ll be late. You can head to dinner without me, no prob.! Sorry🙈."