the man with luminous eyes

2.

"I'm Eddy Chen, 22 years old, I'm a student currently attending the Queensland Conservatorium. I play first violin."

Bows waving about. Smiles everywhere.

Except on Brett's face. The attractive looking man, the owner of those shadows that had crawled down his spine this past week, that one night stand--

Why was he standing there now, smiling so brightly like a child on Christmas day?

"Alright, well--"

The student defiantly made his way through the chairs before the conductor could speak, making his way toward the one person who least wanted his attention.

"What's your name?" He asked, pointing an almost accusatory finger toward his victim. Brett's jaw slacked, furrowing his brows. Blood rose to his cheeks. His deskie snickered before quickly silencing himself before the quiet orchestra.

"Uh... what?"

"Your name," He repeated, louder this time. A piercing gaze shot at him like an arrow from the man's dark, stone-like orbs.

I know you remember me, it seemed to say.

Brett's eyes darted toward the conductor, begging him for help. He shrugged in response, much to his dismay.

"Brett... Yang..."

"I wanna be your deskie, Brett Yang!"

The Brett Yang in question wondered if this man-- no, he said he was 22? So, this kid-- was being serious. His eyes scanned the rest of his orchestra members for moral support.

Good luck! Was all he got in return.

Chairs creaked as bodies leaned in silent anticipation at how the serious, dead-panned Brett Yang would handle the upstart newcomer.

Brett closed his eyes and took a breath. He furrowed his brows, trying his best to look annoyed. Honestly, it wasn't that difficult. This upstart--this newcomer--this somewhat attractive young fellow whom he happened to have a one-night stand with and was now blaring speakers yelling, "You remember me!" through his eyes-- was embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. "That's not how this works, Chen. There's proper protocol for seating and assigning new stand partners. This is a professional orchestra, so act accordingly, please."

Boom. Mic drop. Satisfied musicians leaned back in their chairs. Some even waved their bows slowly.

Eddy's face didn't waver. In fact, he looked satisfied. And that irked Brett more than anything.

His deskie, Brian, elbowed him softly as the conductor finally summoned the newbie back to the front.

"Hey, am I getting replaced with a student? I like being your deskie," He teased. Brett rolled his eyes.

"He's just nervous," He reasoned. "He'll come around."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You guys know each other?"

Brett never had any plans of being an actor, but he was confident he'd do well if he tried.

"Nah," Brett lied as he shook his head, his eyes glued to Eddy's small smile as the conductor told him off. God, that gorgeous smile. "Never met him."

. . .

After rehearsals, a large crowd had amassed around the new violinist. Brett watched, taking his time as he tucked his violin into his case.

"He's quite the celebrity," Brian chuckled. "We should invite him out for a drink. Get to know him a bit more."

Brett didn't need to know a bit more. He knew enough for a lifetime. How every crevice of his abs felt to the depth of the ravines between his arms and torso. How soft his lips felt against his skin, to how deep his fingers could reach--

Brett sucked in a breath. His deskie had disappeared into the crowd of interested musicians, interested in the university student who had dared to act up not only in front of the conductor but the ice-cold Brett Yang.

He didn't want to stay in the same room as that man(kid) for much longer. He left quickly, feeling that gaze bore holes into his back.