Play!

XCI

Needless to say, it was still visible from a ten meter radius that Brett’s shirt was either intended to be this sexy or that he was soaked from head to toe. Thus, it wasn’t surprising that all heads turned when he walked past the fully present orchestra to his seat, luckily with Cole by his side at least shielding him from some of the stares.

There was one glance though which didn’t escape Brett’s attention. When he sat down on the second chair, Eddy’s eyes flickered in his direction for the first time in the last three days. Brett stopped breathing as he noticed confusion and concern in Eddy’s features for a fraction of a second before his head whipped away again to face Mr. Thames who stepped on the conductor’s stand. Brett shook his head to get a grip, sighed and took out his violin. He was actually cold now, which made tightening his bow difficult with his slightly shaking fingers. That he hadn’t eaten yet today didn’t help.
“Alright orchestra. We’ll rehearse Korgold in the morning with Brett playing solo, of course.”
Some cheers and claps here and there while Brett’s brain slowly went into panic mode. How in sweet Jesus’ name was he supposed to play with his current state of mind?
“In the afternoon, it’s Mahler’s turn. Pace yourselves! It’s gonna be a long day.”
Groaning came from all directions. Mr. Jones tapped his baton against the stand. “You had a day off just recently, so don’t complain! Also, I’m pretty sure you’ll all like tonight’s program. Mahler five, played by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra at the Sydney Opera House. We’ll learn from professionals.”
Now this let heads rise. It was marked in their schedule that a concert was on but not from whom, where and what. Brett had heard Mahler five live before, never from the country’s best orchestra though. As long as he was gonna make sure Eddy wasn’t sitting next to him, he might actually enjoy it. 
“Take it as motivation for today! And now, Brett, if I may ask you to stand up and position yourself.”

Now this was it. Maybe not caring about how he was going to sound would help? Brett sure hoped so when he stood up with slightly shaking knees, walked past cold Eddy and waited for the winds to tune so he could adjust his A to the oboe’s along with all the strings (and Eddy). His fingers were still icy and not having warmed up was gonna fuck him over, at the beginning for sure. Nonetheless, he gave Mr. Thames a nod, shrugged the little bit of care off his shoulders, positioned his violin and waited for the starting cue. 

He sucked. Of course he did! All the fast parts in the first movement were dragging. Not so much that Mr. Thames stopped them, but enough that it stuck out, at least in Brett’s ears, annoying him to hell and back and melting away all musicality in the process. And that was the second thing that lacked in his first movement. He played like it was a study, like he was a computer playing a midi-file and yet, he found no ounce of emotion in himself to change that. 
That was perhaps how playing sounded while sporting a world-class deadpan.

To his surprise, Mr. Thames didn’t comment on anything after they’d reached the end of the first movement. At least not yet. He sent them into a short toilet break in which Eddy was the first to disappear backstage before whispering a quick “Can you stay for a second?” to Brett.
Brett didn’t even flinch.

“Is everything okay with you, Brett?”, the young conductor asked with a frown, “Have you had breakfast yet? And I’m guessing you don’t have any dry clothes with you, do you?”
Wow, he wasn't roasting his playing? He must look very shitty. 
“Uhm, nah. I don’t. I haven’t had time yet.”
Mr. Thames nodded. 
“Look. I can tell something’s bothering you and I get if you don’t want to talk to me or Mr. Jones about it. You have never been this off since I’ve known you.”
Well, same mate, Brett thought bitterly. 
“But it’s starting to affect your playing. I’m sure your ears have picked up on it too and as much as I would like to cut you some slack, I can’t do that for too long. We have one and a half weeks left before the concert. There is still some time but you need to get your grip together. It’s a very big opportunity for you too.”
Brett nodded. “I know.”
Lack of awareness wasn’t the problem here. More the fact that the concertmaster and the soloist weren’t vibing anymore, to put it mildly. 
“Promise me you’ll talk to someone about whatever is going on, all right? I’d very much like to present you in one piece when your parents arrive.”
Brett nodded again despite knowing that talking wasn’t going to solve anything. He’d talked to Cole, even screamed at the poor guy without any effect. 
Mr. Thames sighed, like he knew it was a bit of a lost battle. “Our door is always open if you need to vent. Just so you know. For now, get something in your system and maybe ask around if anyone has a dry shirt.”
Another nod and Brett turned around to quickly head to the cafeteria, placing his violin in its case first. He wasn’t really hungry but maybe it helped with the cold and the shaking? When he stood in front of the buffet however, he didn’t feel like eating at all. Also, of course he didn’t carry his wallet since he’d left it at the hotel along with his phone. Brett shrugged and returned to the main hall, stomach and soul empty.