Play!

LXXXI

Brett couldn’t get his legs to move. Hell, he was barely able to shake Mr. Thames’ hand without grabbing the conductor by his collar and screaming at him at the top of his lungs and now, he was supposed to stand up and get off stage?

Thank God he didn’t have to play anymore!

“Brett, you alright?”, Cole at the second desk hissed, a deep, worried frown in-between his brows. 
Brett opened his mouth like a dead goldfish, producing sounds resembling one as well instead of words that would make sense somehow. 
“Brett! Mate!”
People. There were people watching! In fact, the whole audience, a jury and an entire orchestra was waiting for him to move his ass. He formed a command in his brain and sent it down his spine, but nothing.
“Dude! I know it’s all over now after you and Eddy have played, but if you blank out now it won’t look good in front of the judges!”

Eddy. 
Eddy.
Eddy!

A word which managed what every other thought beforehand hadn’t. Suddenly, Brett shot up, startling Cole and probably everyone around him in a five or more meter radius in the process, not that he had any mental capacity left to care, and leaped off stage into the same direction Eddy had vanished to.

“Eddy!”, he called as soon as he rushed through the door, lungs and vocal chords finally resuming their function. He ran to the hallway and screamed again, his desperate voice echoing through the corridor. 
Nothing. 

Shit!

Eddy running off after a performance like this and most of all, after looking at Brett with these eyes loaded with sadness… Brett had an inkling it didn’t mean anything good. Was it something he’d done? Had he fucked something up as concertmaster and Eddy was being angry at him? Had the orchestra sucked? Brett had been so out of it sometimes during the performance this could be as good of an explanation as any. Was it something he’d done before they’d played? Brett’s brain anxiously tried to recap dinner and the few minutes before they’d entered their dressing rooms. Had his hug been too much? Too intimate? But Eddy had hugged him back and when they’d met on stage when it had been Brett’s turn, everything had been fine, no? And in-between their performances they hadn’t seen each other. 

No, something happened when Eddy was playing. And Brett had absolutely no idea what. 

“Brett! What the hell?”, Cole huffed when he skidded to a halt in front of Brett.
“Cole”, Brett stuttered, realizing the panic in his voice, “Eddy, he’s…”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. I couldn’t find him. He just ran off and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he was…”
“Listen!”, Cole said, his hands grabbing Brett’s shoulders, “The judges will reveal the results in fifteen minutes. I’m sure Eddy is gonna come back for this. Don’t worry. Whatever it is he’s going through, he’ll be there. Let’s talk to him then, alright?”
Yeah. Cole was right. He had to be! I mean, they could search the whole perimeter up and down, but if Eddy really wanted to be alone, he would have locked himself up in his dressing room anyway, so there was no point. Brett just had to get his shit together until then and really, really hope that it was going to be alright. 

Easier said than done however. Sitting backstage where he was supposed to wait until he had to step out again, only with Eddy this time, was killing him. The seconds seemed to creep away like they were glued at their position in time and space and there was still no sign of Eddy. He had to come back though, right? No way he was going to miss this and after that, Brett simply had to chain him to the floor before he could run off again. No cell in his body cared for who was going to win. Brett couldn’t give a crap. The only thing set on replay in his mind was that guy’s name he’d had the audacity to fall in love with. 

Brett stilled, the air on the way to his lungs stuck in his airwaves.

What if Eddy had noticed? What if he’d realized Brett had feelings for him during his performance? What if that was the reason Eddy had to get away from him as fast as possible?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Maybe his hug or something he’d said had been too much, too obvious. Maybe Eddy had had an inkling and when he was playing the second movement, the most romantic of them all, it grew to realization. Maybe he decided it was better to be safe than sorry and not even ask Brett about it but to cut off ties immediately and avoid any sort of contact.

Suddenly, the urge Brett felt to jump off the nearest bridge was almost uncontainable.

“Brett!”, Mr. Jones’ voice reached Brett’s ears before the conductor appeared next to him out of breath. “Have you seen Eddy? He needs to be here in less than three minutes and we can’t find him anywhere.”
Any more losses of muscle control and they seriously had to send him to the ER. Luckily, Mr. Jones somehow interpreted his frozen state as a shake of head or something and rushed off again, leaving Brett and his panic back in the dark.

He didn’t know how he managed not to run away, hide in the furthest and loneliest corner Sydney had to offer and cry his eyes out. It must have been his deadpan finally returning from the holidays, coming to his rescue and it was so effective he didn’t even notice light steps coming to a stop about ten meters behind him until the backstage lady opened the door. 

“Mr. Yang, Mr. Chen.”
Brett’s eyes widened as he turned around in slow motion. 
“The jury is ready for you. Good luck!”

There he was. His blue suit crinkled here and there and there was a slight redness around his eyes… 

Eyes so cold they made Brett’s blood freeze.
Eyes fixated on the door leading to the stage.
Eyes not even glancing at Brett.

Not for a split second.

A/N: Finally made it🥴! Sorry for the wait and happy reading!