Rehearsal

Part X

When Eddy stepped out of the hospital and the fresh breeze hit his face, he immediately felt better. He shook his head to get rid of the horrible pictures in front of his eyes. "I am at the hospital. I am safe. Brett is going to be okay." But his hands were still shaking.

He took his phone out and thought about calling somebody. He wanted to be distracted. Talking with somebody about anything normal like the new bubble tea flavor or how he got stuck in traffic or the stupid weather. He didn't care what.

But after a couple of minutes, he just put his phone back in his pockets. The only person he really wanted to talk to was Brett.

He turned around and looked at the huge building in front of him in which his best friend was fighting for his life. And just for a split of a second, he was grateful for it. It gave him somewhere to be and something to do. He could not bear the thought of sitting at home alone, staring at the ceiling, and be hunted by his memories. But at the same time, he knew he neither could bear the thought of Brett dying.

He felt bad and confused. His head was not progressing what had happened to them. It was too much, too heavy, too cruel to be true. His mind wandered back to the moment when Brett had been crumbled to the ground after telling the police their commands. The hostage-taker was standing in front of him, in one hand a gun he just had fired.  Once this moment had passed Eddy's mind pushes the replay button and he relived it again. With every detail and with the same amount of feelings.

It's gonna be okay. He formed these words with his lips just as he did in the past. But he didn't believe in his words anymore. How could be any of this gonna be okay?

Eddy took a few more deep breaths before entering again. When he stood in front of Brett's room he hesitated for a moment. Teresa was likely still in there. She also might ask questions again. So he tried to prepare himself mentally.  "I am safe. Brett is going to be okay!", he whispered to himself.

As Eddy entered Brett's hospital room he saw Teresa hiding something behind her back. "Oh, you are back? Are you feeling better?" Eddy came slowly closer. "Yeah. What were you doing?" - "Nothing. But I have to go now anyway." A creepy feeling overcame Eddy. Teresa smiled. "Let me know when Brett wakes up, okay?" And then she stormed out of the room.

He looked at his friend. He was still lying in his bed. It seemed like he was at peace. Just sleeping. Tears filled Eddy's eyes again. He thought he had already cried himself dry.

He sat down next to Brett. "Hey Brett," he said and felt awkward "I don't know if you can hear me, but if so, I want you to know that you have to keep fighting, okay?" His voice began shaking. "Do it for me. Please." There was no answer. Just the beeping of the machines. "The doctors said there is nothing more they can do than wait. It's all in your hands now. So please wake up." Shivers overcame his body. "You can do it, okay? I know you can. Just remember the good things in the world." Eddy reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Maybe this helps." He searched for Hilary Hahn and her version of Tchaikovsky on YouTube and played it for Brett. "You remember this? We played it as well. On our 2Mil sub Live stream." His tears were falling rapidly now. "Brett please." he sobbed.

It's gonna be okay.

A few hours later their friend Ray called. Eddy ignored it. He didn't want to speak to anybody. The only thing he was capable of now was lying next to his friend. Waiting for a wonder. But Ray called again and again. It stressed him out. "What?" was his response on the fourth call. "Eddy, click on the link I sent you. Was that you?" Eddy was confused. What was Ray talking about? He opened the link and got forwarded to a website about the incident that happened to them yesterday. "What do you -" Then he saw it. It was a photo of Brett. A photo that was taken here in the hospital where Brett lay in his bed. "oh Teresa...Why?" - "She probably got a lot of money for it. It is on every website and will be in the papers tomorrow." - "I hate her!"