Play!

XCII

The second and third movements were a teensy bit better. At least tempo wasn’t that much of an issue anymore and Mr. Thames continued to be kind enough and not comment on Brett’s absent phrasing or musicality. It was like Eddy’s handicap had sprung over to Brett, liveless vibrato and robotic playing included. There also were more notes out of tune than in any of his run throughs before. Not that Brett cared that much, if he was being honest. 

“Dude…” 
Brett knew it must have been bad when even Nathan was speechless. He and Cole blankly stared at him from their seats as the rest of the orchestra flowed out the hall to get lunch, deep frowns in-between their brows and their mouths half open. 
“I’ve never heard you play this badly”, Cole blurted out.
“Thanks for the compliment”, Brett meant dryly and put his violin away. It wasn’t even worth mentioning that Eddy had once again been one of the firsts to go off stage. This was the new normal now, apparently. And good thing Brett was slowly getting used to this shit too, or had his heart just matched its temperature to Brett’s skin underneath the still damp shirt so its pain receptors were all frozen?

“What the hell, you in a bad mood or something?”, Nathan asked, glaring at Brett as if he’d just turned his violin into a viola. 
Cole eyed Brett meaningfully, but Brett just shrugged. 
“Still wet. Maybe that’s why.”
Nathan didn’t look convinced and Brett couldn’t blame him. The last thing he needed or wanted however was to let in another person into his emotional hellhole.
“All right! Tomorrow’s another day!”, Cole exclaimed after a few seconds of loaded silence, closed his case with a loud click and got up. “Lunch, guys? Mahler’s not gonna play itself this afternoon.”

“Eddy’s not gonna join us?”
They were walking towards the cafeteria when Nathan’s question let Brett almost trip over his own feet.
“We can stay in our own bubble once in a while, no?”, Cole once again came to the rescue, looking impressively unfazed. Was he getting used to bailing Brett out too?
Nathan shook his brown locks left and right. “‘Course, man. Just weird because you were practically glued together.”
And now, Eddy’d ripped himself apart from Brett and all that was left were ugly, bleeding open wounds. Brett sighed deeply and hoped by not commenting on anything Eddy related that Nathan was going to drop this once and for all. 

The cafeteria lunch menu didn’t exactly sound appealing and when Cole and Nathan got their plates, Brett was actually glad he’d forgotten his wallet. He didn’t feel like eating anyway. He didn’t feel like anything to be honest. Cole protested violently of course when he noticed Brett denying nutrition intake. Brett just shrugged his dozenth shrug today and shuffled to a free table by the big window showing the downpour outside. He didn’t have to look around to know that Eddy wasn’t in this hall. 

Playing Mahler five was better, even though he had to sit right next to Eddy all. the. time! At least his clothes were dry now and his playing wasn’t in the spotlight. Halfway through the first movement during a slower section, Brett got so tired his violin almost slipped off his shoulders and he failed to turn the page. When Eddy leaned over to flip it, he jumped so hard his bow skidded and screeched a weird, ultra modern chord into the gentle melody of the orchestra. 
Even this sacrilege didn’t make Eddy throw a glance at him.

God, why was he so tired? The little toilet break before the second movement had helped, but now Brett’s head was so heavy he feared it was gonna roll off his shoulders any second now. Last night’s sleep must have been very poor. Or was his body not used to this cooler temperature anymore? He had to force his eyes to stay open more times than he could count, actually dozing off when Mr. Thames commented on specific parts or worked with the trumpets and the number of notes he missed went up accordingly. Maybe he should have eaten lunch after all. 

The third movement came along, then the fourth, the adagietto, which was a very bad time to get shaky bow, not out of nervousness or lack of technique but because Brett’s whole body started to shiver with a cold that overcame him again. At least it kept him awake. Was he coming down with something? Wouldn’t be surprising after the rain and like this, he might get some time off in which he didn’t have to see Eddy… Mr. Thames was very patient today, not stopping once to call Brett out and perhaps his awful playing wasn’t too offensive and obvious? He kept it pianissimo most of the time of course and like this, they reached the finale, the difficult passages preventing him to fuck up even more since he had to bring his A-game in order to survive.

The last not was played, Mr. Jones clapped from the audience ranks and Brett felt very similar to shortly before he’d passed out on stage about a week ago.
“Good job, orchestra! We’ll have time to work section wise tomorrow. For now, get some rest and dinner and we’ll see you in front of the Sydney Opera House at seven p.m. sharp. No delays! Concert starts at seven thirty. Dress nicely if possible.”
Nods and chatter as everyone started to pack away their instruments. Brett closed his eyes, leaned back and tried to take deep breaths to prevent a repetition of embarrassing events. The ringing in his ears increased but nah! Not again! Not with Eddy still being there… but wait!

Brett’s eyelids flew open when he realized his deskie was still sitting next to him. In fact, Eddy seemed glued to his chair, hands clenched to fists next to his upper leg, knuckles all turned white and unblinking eyes staring down his lap. 

What the…?

A/N: Sorry for the waaaayyy tooo late upload! Had the honor to attend a wedding today and no time whatsoever to post the chapter which wasn't finished yet XD. And I'm STILL SICK (cjaiwongbajakgjcbal@)@+$;!!!!!!*****), so no productive writing. Hope you're all having a good weekend!