XCI

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Eddy was so, so, so very glad he had his friends around him as they made their way into yet another unknown building, into a big austere hall with concrete pillars. He would have been shitting himself if he would he have had to face this alone. But now he got to stand there next to some guys he loved and wait for someone to come pick them up. 
They didn't have to wait long  before a bored looking woman in her fifties with mousy hair turned up and introduced herself in a monotone. Eddy clenched his jaw to stop the smile that threatened to fight its way out along with the viola joke.
Now was really not the time for jokes. 

They silently followed the mousy woman through yet more stark corridors into a large auditorium where an orchestra was just setting up. Eddy's heart jumped as he walked up to the big stage with its giant wooden backdrop and he had to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Brett's hand. 
Man. He was actually going to sit there, among all the pros, people who had gotten their degrees ages ago and had years and years of experience. 
It was both the coolest and the scariest thing. 
He shot a quick glance at the faces of his friends next to him, and they all looked the same. 
Scared. Excited. Even Todd was quiet for once. 
"Eddy, you can go sit over there, Brett over there." The mousy woman pointed to two empty seats on the second row of first violins. Two vacant seats, and two professional deskies to sit with. 
Whoa. 
The woman pointed Ian and Todd to their places as well, and they all made their way up on the stage, sidling through the rows of chairs to get to their desks. 

Thank God, even though they were each at a different desk their chairs were still adjacent to each other, and Eddy was seriously glad that Brett would be sitting next to him. 
His deskie turned out to be a chatty blonde woman in her thirties with kind eyes. 
"Hi Eddy, I'm Shirley. We'll be rehearsing Dvořák eight, have you played it before?" 
Eddy smiled shyly at her. "No, but I've heard it."
Shirley chuckled. "Well, in that case I hope you can read!" Then she lowered her voice and winked at him. "It's not like the rest of us have all practised our parts, hey?"
Eddy grinned despite himself. So, it was like that in pro orchestra as well, was it? Good to know, he'd fit right in. 
Before he knew it the oboe was giving its A and everyone started tuning. 
Eddy took a deep breath. 
Come on mate. You've been in orchestra a million times. This one is no different. 
Then he put his violin to his shoulder and tuned. 


Two hours later he'd made up his mind: Dvořák eight was one of the awesomest symphonies in existence and this orchestra was the awesomest orchestra. He loved the way the slow movement, a little boring to his tastes at first, became so lyrical, so beautiful, and then out of nowhere this gorgeous violin line of the beginning of the third movement came... and the violins here sounded so great together... it was just fantastic. 
He could feel Brett's upper leg against his own every once in a while as they moved with the music, because the chairs were very close together, and it was such a comfort to have him there right there by his side, right where he should be. To share this experience with him. 
He wished he could always have him there, his whole career long. Do every concert with Brett, every project with Brett, just work with Brett full time. Even if he knew that'd be pretty much impossible, the thought was quite simply the best. 

"You did great, Eddy!" Shirley said to him when it was all over way too soon. 
"Really? Thank you, Shirley!" he responded, his initial shyness long since gone. 
"Yep. Good reading, good sound. I hope you go on to study violin and I'll see you around!" 
"I hope that too." he smiled. 
He realised he hadn't really thought before he spoke there, but it wasn't like Shirley was going to talk to his mum, was she? 
And to be honest, even if through some freak occurrence she did? He'd never, ever been more sure of his choice to become a professional musician than he was today.
Regardless of what his mum might say. 


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