Addicted and Devoted

Chapter 1

Sitting through a speech centered on your deceased brother was not something anyone grieving really wanted to do. Especially when they used the word 'suicide' so casually as if his brother had just decided to take a vacation.

It had a mixture of anger and nausea rising in Shen Wei.

The worst part was that it was not planned. If he had known about this, he would have avoided it or better still, survived it with Zhao Yunlan at his side, distracting him or distancing him from the entire affair, so easily, as if by magic. Yunlan always knew what to say. It was a gift that Shen Wei had become captivated by, one month into dating the gorgeous classical musician, as he could navigate even the most awkward of interactions, smoothly steering Shen Wei through each crisis like a ship captain taking his boat through a storm.

The music was awful. A depressing piece played on a guzheng, which would have made Zhao's eyebrows twitch. It was that thought that allowed him to endure ten minutes, focusing on what Zhao would have likely said, but they hadn't invited Zhao Yunlan. That burned his aching heart. Yunlan was his life and anything he had to celebrate, any joy could only be with Yunlan at his side. How dare they exclude him?

The brother, 'the surviving brother' lasted those ten minutes and had to leave, choking on rage and tears. He blindly moved through the party, passed friends and employees alike, who had gathered for this surprise party.

The humiliation burned and he wrenched free from Chu's grip, moving like a man trying to escape his own execution, all but running for the exit, thinking only of getting back to Zhao, of how he would be able to breathe again when he made it home. He used his strength to keep the cold facade, until he was outside, still ignoring all the calls behind him, he hailed the first cab that stopped outside the front of Dixing and all but ripped open the door, tears now burning his throat. The driver asked in a stony tone for the address and Shen stumbled to remember that Zhao was staying at his apartment tonight. He gave the address and closed his eyes as Old Chu made it out the door, just as the cab pulled away.

It was heavily raining as the car stopped just outside his building and Shen Wei after paying, drowning in memories slowly moved up the short flight of steps and into the lobby area. He focused his cold body into moving towards the elevator. His chest was too tight and all the horrible words, the memories of finding Ye Zun, the hospital and the realization...

As soon as the doors opened to the right floor he was walking towards the second of the two apartments on the third floor. His neighbor had left the building some three months ago, so the music echoing down the corridor could offend no one. The notes of a beloved violin were rapidly rising and falling with an air of mystery and urgency that Shen immediately recognized.

It was unmistakably Der Erlkonig by Schubert/Ernst, one of the hardest violin pieces ever written. Zhao had declared it to be his nemesis in one memorable video, and while anyone watching or listening to Zhao play would consider his skill breath-taking and expert, Yunlan would just scoff and say he was better than he used to be, with a sideways glare at his violin case that always made Shen smile.

It was a beautiful piece, not Shen Wei's favorite as it spoke of a child frightened. Zhao Yunlan had told him that the narrator of the story lies in the middle range of the violin's capabilities, the father in the story in the low range and the highest tones of the violin, representing the child in terror. It was a challenge as the violin was made to express the four different voices in the poem and switch between them in a breath.

It was the repeated octaves, apparently characterizing a galloping horse that Zhao hated. Too fast the story was lost, too slow and the violin lost the urgency of the horse. Zhao would always practice this piece when he was stuck with another, simpler piece or when he was facing a challenge in composing. He said that this murderously difficult Opus was perfect when you wished to separate from reality, as it took every ounce of skill, muscle memory and emotional connection to bring the story to life, to play as the piece was meant to be played. It was also highly amusing to watch him stare at the videos with Hilary Hahn playing this piece on stage muttering, "My enemy. Le roi des aulnes."