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XCIV

Brett made sure the seats next to him were occupied when they filled one of the circle boxes of the concert hall close to the stage. Eddy was probably gonna show up last minute and the last thing Brett wanted was a repetition of the quartet recital they’d listened to on the first night.
“You looking forward to Mahler?”, Angelica sitting next to Brett at his right asked.
“Yeah”, Brett answered truthfully and slowly relaxed into his seat, “I do like it a lot, even though we hear it all the time at the moment.”
“Same”, she smiled, “It’s so epic. Like all the movements are so grand and there are so many different emotions expressed through the music.”
“Totally.”
It was nice talking about the music they were playing and going to hear and not having to mull in depressing thoughts for a change. Maybe this concert was just what he needed to get himself on track again, eating and sleeping properly included?

But then, his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of dark brown hair a few rows in front of them shuffling to his seat which was enough to cause Brett’s throat to close up so much he doubted he’d ever swallow another bite again. 

The lights dimmed down, the orchestra tuned and the conductor walked on stage under raucous applause. Brett took a few deep breaths, closed his eyes to rid himself of that one person and then, the majestic trumpet solo of the Trauermarsch started. 

It was alright, wonderful and very insightful for their own orchestra’s interpretation in fact, until the last note was played and intermission started.
“You coming?”, Cole asked as he got up to follow their crew outside. Eddy was gone already after wiggling himself through the throng of people in front of him. 
“Yeah”, Brett said, but his legs had other ideas because as soon as he stood up they gave in, threw him back into his chair and caused Brett to yelp in surprise. Cole whirled around, his temporarily default concerned features doubled in intensity. “Brett?”
“Uhm… I’m fine…”
“You sure? You’re white as a sheet”, Angelica frowned and sat down again next to him.
“Uh, yeah. Give me a minute.”
He wasn’t fine. His heart was racing, his pulse shooting through the roof and his hands were wet from cold sweat. 
“Do you need a hand?”
“Uhm”, he gulped, hoping he could swallow down the nausea along with the excess saliva in his mouth, “No, I think I can manage.”
He couldn’t and it was this mistake which led blackness to invade his sight when he tried to get to his feet again, the ringing in his ears quickly drowning out the voices from his friends, anxiously calling his name when darkness swallowed him whole…

“Brett?”

Thick fog surrounded him. There was no up, no down, no left and right. No past, no future. Only him in this motion- and shapeless, undefined limbo. 
“Brett! Wake up!”
Brett didn’t want to. It was cozy at this place, all the worries insignificant and the pain gone. Why should he go back? He snuggled deeper into the warmth around him, the mist welcoming him with a soft embrace.
Someone started to nudge his shoulders and he groaned. 
“Brett!”

Brett’s eyelids fluttered open, letting bright, white light hit his retina and starting a bunch of explosions in his head. He groaned again, rubbed his eyes and tried to make out the blurred faces looking down on him, one of them probably belonging to his roommate, another one looking a tad older than the others.
“Finally! Gosh, this a new habit of yours or what?”
“Be kind, Nathan. He just woke up”, Angelica’s voice sounded from the foot of the bed or whatever Brett was lying on.
“Yeah. Like the second time the past seven days! Can’t be normal, can it?”
“Brett, can you hear me?”, Mr. Thames asked when Brett felt a hand closing around his forearm.
“Where…”, he croaked, sandpaper scratching his vocal chords. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Can I have some water…”
“Of course!”, Angelica shot up and Brett heard light steps quickly leaving the room. 

Fuck! Second time in the same goddamn camp? Really, Brett Yang? Talk about embarrassing himself in front of everyone. And now there was no escaping telling Mr. Thames what was going on, was there? 
“Where… am I?”
Hospital? But not for something this minor. God, he really hoped they hadn’t called an ambulance or anything so the whole Sydney Opera House knew something wasn’t right.
Mr. Thames hand let go. “In one of the first aid rooms of the Sydney Opera House. You were out for like ten minutes and the medic was going to send you to the hospital in the next five or so if you wouldn’t have woken up.”
Brett tried to sit up a bit and immediately felt a hand on his back helping him. Guilt churned uncomfortably in his stomach. He was causing trouble everywhere and for what? Because he was a wuss unable to deal with heartbreak, apparently.
“Can I have my glasses?”
Cole handed him his specs, Brett placed them on the bridge of his nose and blinked a few times. His friend was there right next to him with Nathan to his right. Mr. Thames was sitting on a stool on the other side, carrying a soft expression for a change. Across the room, Angelica was just closing the door behind her with a glass of water in hand. 
“Thank you”, he mumbled as she handed him the much needed liquid, heat traveling up his face like quicksilver in a thermometer. He took a few careful sips, not trusting his stomach to work properly yet. 
“How do you feel?”, the young conductor inquired. 
“Bit groggy, but otherwise fine.”
“The medic meant it’s a simple dizzy spell”, Cole informed but Brett could hear the tension in his voice. Hopefully, he wasn’t blaming himself for Brett’s stupidity and Brett knew he had to make sure of that later. “He really, really urged you to eat and drink something as soon as you wake up.”
“Understood”, Brett mumbled, “I’m sorry. For all this.”
“Just glad it happened during the break”, Mr. Thames meant with a small wink, “Would have been quite a ruckus if you would have gone down during the concert.”
Brett flinched at the thought of people around him in the audience gasping out of shock, the concert stopping because of him.
“Not sure if it would beat the soloist fainting incident a few days ago”, Cole mocked and received an unusual soft slap on his upper arm for that. They looked at each other and chuckled. The first chuckle Brett had managed in days.
“I see you’re in good hands”, Mr. Thames smiled benevolently and got up, “The medic will check on you in a few minutes again. I asked him to bring you a sandwich and it’s out of question that this will be eaten the second he hands it over to you.”
Brett and Cole nodded simultaneously. Brett turned to him as soon as he noticed. “You don’t need to stay, you know.” 
Since he’d been out for ten minutes, they were probably about fifteen into intermission, still plenty of time for them to make it to the second half. Brett couldn’t recall what they were going to play.
“You can both come in after if you, Brett, feel okay”, Mr. Thames meant with a nod, “If not, would you accompany him to the hotel?”
“But I can-”
“There is no way on this wonderful planet I’m letting you wander around by yourself in the rain after a day like this and especially after whatever happened this morning.”
Fair point. Brett dropped his head in defeat.
“No problem, Sir. I’ve heard Rach two many times anyway.”
So that was the second piece. Funny choice, Brett found. Or was it the piano concerto?
“Very well. Brett, I’ll see you in Mr. Jones' office tomorrow half an hour before rehearsal starts, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Thames”, Brett muttered without looking up, knowing there was no out of this one either. His headache increased when he started to wonder what in Jesus’ name he was supposed to tell him. It wasn’t like he was keen on outing himself to anyone, really. Could he come up with an excuse? Some sort of half-truth maybe?
“Alright. I’ll be heading back. Angelica and Nathan, I expect to see you in your seats after intermission. And if there’s anything you guys need...” He shot Brett and Cole a meaningful look, “Don’t hesitate to call. At any hour.”
And with that said, he closed the door behind him.