Colors | TSV Brett × Reader

One

BRETT'S POV

I walked along the pavement, dodging the puddles on Brisbane's wet streets. It had been pouring for the past three days straight, and everything just felt cold and gray. I turned and headed into the studio where my violin lessons are held.

They were already rehearsing when I opened the door, and honestly, it pained my ears. The whispers started almost immediately.

"Hey, shut up. He's here."

I could feel their eyes on me the moment I stepped in. Some looked scared, some annoyed, some just uncomfortable. But I'm used to it by now. Since I started this violin class five years ago, my classmates have never really liked me. All I ever hear is how cold, nasty, and pessimistic I am. 

It's true. I don't exactly try to prove them wrong. If they don't like me, I don't like them either.

It's even better that no one wants to sit beside me. Peaceful, at least. I noticed someone staring again and immediately snapped, "What are you looking at?" The guy looked away instantly. Works every time.

Ten minutes later, our teacher finally showed up... late, like always. "Good morning everyone," he greeted casually as everyone sat down. I didn't say anything. I never do. During the lesson, while they were busy following instructions, I quietly played my brother's favorite piece under my breath.

Paganini's Caprice No. 24.

I don't even think about it anymore. My fingers just do it on their own.

When I was about five, my brother was the one who pushed me into learning violin. We were happy back then. He was the only person who ever really supported me, the only one who didn't make me feel like I was too much or not enough. But that didn't last.

I didn't even notice time passing until I saw some of my classmates leaving for snacks. When I looked up, my teacher was already standing there, watching me. "How are you, Brett?" he asked. "Angry," I said flatly. "Again? You're always angry. It's not good for your age." I didn't care.

Then he added, "I saw you playing Caprice No. 24... are you thinking about your brother again?" That was it. I stood up immediately and said, "It's none of your business." Then I just left.

How dare he even say that. How dare he bring him up like that.

Fifteen minutes later, I was by the lake. Birds were chirping, leaves moving with the wind, and for once Brisbane didn't feel as suffocating. I pulled out my violin and started playing Tchaikovsky. When I play, everything else kind of disappears; my thoughts, my problems, everything I'm trying not to feel.

But of course, my alarm ruined it. I sighed and headed back to the studio. I was walking while checking my phone, scrolling through my schedule, when—"Oh, I'm sorry! My bad, I'm rushing!" Someone bumped into me hard enough that my phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground. I heard the crack before I even saw it. Of course. I looked up, but she was already gone.

If I ever see her again, I swear I'll... Anyway.

I went back inside the classroom and everyone was already seated. "You're late," my professor said. "I don't care," I replied and sat down. Then he suddenly announced there was a new student. "She's also new to violin. Please welcome her." Everyone clapped. Everyone except me. 

I wasn't interested until I heard her voice. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N! Nice to meet you guys!" I looked up and froze. It was her. The same girl. The one who bumped into me earlier. "I hope he's joking," I muttered under my breath. She smiled like nothing happened.

Of course.

"Y/N, you can sit beside Brett," the teacher said. And just like that, the room went quiet again. She walked over and sat beside me like it was normal. "Hey, uh, Brett. It's nice to be your desk mate," she said, smiling a little too brightly. She even held out her hand. I just stared at it until she awkwardly pulled it back.

Then she started talking. 

"How long have you been playing violin?"
"What's your favorite piece?"

And talking.

"Favorite composer?"
"Is Canon in D annoying for violinists?"

And talking.

"Can you play Flight of the Bumblebee?"

I groaned. "Listen, Y/N. Can you shut up for once?" She blinked. "Wait... aren't you the guy I bumped into earlier?" Of course she remembered that. "I'm really sorry about that," she added quickly. "I don't care. Just stop talking." Finally, she went quiet.

Thank God.

During class, she tried playing, but it sounded... awful. I winced. "You're out of tune." I sighed and took my violin. "Hold it like this. Follow my hand." I fixed her posture without thinking. "Now try again." She did. Still wrong. "You're still doing it wrong." "Well, I'm new," she said, shrugging. Fair enough. "Again." Same result. I finally gave up.

"I can't do this."

"Well, that's your fault for getting tired teaching me. I didn't even ask for help," she said, rolling her eyes. I stared at her. "...Excuse me?" "How dare you talk to me like that?" I snapped. "How dare you act so cocky?" she shot back. And just like that, I realized she was actually kind of good at arguing.

I exhaled. "Fine. You win." "Woman," I muttered under my breath.

Four hours later, class ended. I grabbed my case and left immediately. "Hey, Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge," she called after me. I stopped. Of course it was her. She handed me my phone. "You left this at your stand." I took it and walked away. "Could I even get a thank you?" she complained. "Look, Y/N. I didn't ask anyone to return it," I said and kept walking.

Later, I ended up at the cemetery again. Same place. Same silence. I sat in front of my brother's grave and just stared at it. "How are you doing, bro?" I said quietly. I looked up at the sky. "I met this girl today... Y/N." I let out a small laugh.

"She's annoying. I can't stand her." Then I went quiet again. "I miss you so much. I wish you were here." The wind shifted, and the clouds slowly started to break. Just a little bit of light came through.

And for a second... it almost felt like he heard me.