TwoSet Oneshots

Anxiety

"Eddy Chen, why have you decided to end your music career?" I twiddled with my pen nervously, knowing this would be the hardest part of the interview. It was the elephant in the room, and what everyone wanted to know after his unexpected announcement on Twitter.

Eddy's smile from relating a recent humorous mishaps at one of his concerts gave way to a grim straight line ."I just don't feel right performing without my music partner," the man sighed. 

This was certainly not the answer I had expected. Throughout his career, Eddy Chen had developed a reputation of being an independent man, without a single friend in the world but totally fine with that. Now, however, I could see that he was not fine with that.

"What happened to your music partner?" I wanted to be gentle knowing this was a sensitive area for him, but I also knew I needed to be direct.

"He, he," Eddy gulped in an attempt to keep back the stubborn tears. "Here, I'll just tell the whole story. When I was performing, I had the same accompanist play piano for me. His name was Brett. He was so talented, especially when he thought no one was watching." Eddy gave a tender smile. "A couple of times I snuck backstage while he was practicing. His fingers melted with the keys, his dynamics, articulation... He had so much passion and soul, yet incredible precision. He deserved to be more than an accompanist, but he had a really hard time with social anxiety when performing alone, so he never auditioned for anything. When he played for me while we were practicing, though, he said it was different. He felt safe with me there, especially when he was able to play with me alone right before going onstage. He told me during his interview as long as I promised to practice with him right before every concert to relieve his anxiety, he would perform with me. And I agreed." 

By this time he seemed to feel a little better, thinking about the happy memories with this man. So I continued asking questions. "What was it like performing with him?" Eddy got a dreamy look in his eyes. "Absolute heaven. When we started playing together, we became one. A lot of times we would look at each other intensely for no reason, almost communicate something." He sighed. "I think he was trying to tell me something. The passionate look in his eyes, the way his fingers danced. I just wish I knew what he was trying to tell me." He began to cry again. "But now it's too late."

I was hesitant to ask further, but I knew I needed to ask. "Eddy Chen, what happened to your accompanist?" I knew what it was, but I also needed the verbal confirmation to publish it. Also, why did that happen?

"He, he, he died." Eddy broke down. "And it was all my fault. Every time after we did a concert, he would pass out from the anxiety. At first it terrified me. But he reassured me he was fine as long as I played with him... and practiced with him right before. After a while, I kinda forgot. I even arranged to have a couch backstage so he could fall on that instead of the floor. And every time I finished a concert, I would go straight backstage to be sure he was okay. Except, except..." Eddy's face was flushed from held back tears, and his eyes became bloodshot.

"Except what?" I was too into the story to think about sugar-coating my questions now.

"It was a really stressful time, when we had five concerts back-to-back. With all the hotel hopping and travel, we were both stressed. We got into an argument about whether we should do a meet and greet together after -- usually we did and I had Brett with me, but he said he didn't want to do it that time. I should have taken that as a warning he wasn't doing okay, but I just got mad. Told him to get over it. That night, he really wanted me to play with him right before, but I was busy planning for the other concerts, so I refused. During the concert, he was just so tense. But I thought you know, he would get over it. Then he collapsed on the couch and passed out, as usual. I just did the meet and greet quick, then came back to check on him. By the time I came back, he-" Eddy's voice cracked. "He was just so still. I knew something was wrong. He wasn't breathing, there was no pulse. Doctors rushed in soon after and said he had experienced a heart attack. If I been there sooner, I ... could have saved him. Could have noticed something wrong and brought him to the ER. But I didn't. It was too late." Eddy looked away from me and out the window, tears streaming down his face.

As I looked up at him, I could feel tears streaking across my face as well. My heart was already broken from the story, but I knew I needed a decent close to the interview. "If you could see Brett Yang one more time, what would you say?"
Eddy thought for a moment, then said in a soft, hushed tone. "I'd say I'm sorry for not putting him first, for not appreciating him. I'd thank him for being so loyal, always there for me and emotional support when I needed him. And... I'd tell him that I loved him. That I wished that I could have been there for him like he was for me, when he was suffering from anxiety."