Unexplainable

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Eddy couldn't contain his excitement when he saw the math tutoring kid on the first day of the orchestra rehearsal.

He's also in the first violin, we're only three desks apart!  Eddy thought happily. 

The other kid seemed surprised and somehow flustered by their unexpected encounter. Actively avoiding Eddy's eye when they're speaking.

"Hey,  we never really introduced ourself yesterday, i'm Eddy,  what's your name?"

The other kid blushed even more.  "Brett"

cute. Eddy couldn't help but thinking.

the rehearsal started with the conductor entering the room, announcing their schedule and programs for the next season with much professionalism. As expected from the best youth orchestra in the town.

Eddy could felt Brett's glance from time to time during rehearsal. He would smile to Brett when he caught one,  but Brett would rapidly turn his gaze somewhere else, blushed madly.

Eddy was sure that they'd be good friend at that time.

Eddy approached Brett when the rehearsal had ended. 

"Hi!  so, uhn..  wanna get some bubble tea? there's one store just around the corner." Eddy said with expectant smile. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Brett inhaled sharply. He seems to be thinking about something before answered Eddy.

"sure, my parents will pick me up late anyway, show me the way" Brett answered after some while.

"awesome, let's go" Eddy pulled Brett's arm towards the exit sign. Brett's heart skipped a beat at this gesture.  Brett was troubled with Eddy being the subject of his dream, but curious about Eddy nonetheless.

Eddy dragged Brett on the arm for a moment before arrived at the said bubble tea store. It was more like a cafe with some cute chairs and tables filling the place.

Eddy strolled to the one table with two chairs in the corner of the place.  They put their violins and stuffs before lining for their order.

after they both got their drinks, they got back to their table to chat.  All of these felt somewhat natural to them, their conversation flow as if they'd known each other for a long time, and not just two days. 

"dude,  i should get your number,  so we can text each other about anything" Said Eddy.

"sure, here you go" Brett immediately took out his phone to gave Eddy his number.

They were laughing together when their parents came to picked them up, exchanging one or two last viola joke, and after that,  they bid their farewell, went home to their respective houses, somehow the memory of their time in the cafe haunted them sweetly.

Later in their life,  the other's company would be a regular thing to them,  as if dragging their own limbs around. They'd go to the orchestra together,  practice together,  went busking and having gigs together. 

Even when Brett had to go to the con to study music,  Eddy would still followed him around. Meeting Brett to practice and stuffs every weekend, and everytime Brett couldn't come home for the weekend,  Eddy would chat with him for hours. Talking about every random things happened in their lives.

Eddy clung into Brett to the point of following him to the same University to pursue his music, despite his mum's disagreement.

Of course Brett didn't know about it. Eddy never told him that Brett was his main motivation to enter the con. to be able to spend more time with Brett.

It was almost unhealthy, but somehow felt natural. They just knew.

Brett helped Eddy unpacked his things when he arrived at their shared flat. 

Brett happily offered to Eddy when he knew that Eddy got his acceptance letter to the con. To which Eddy couldn't refuse.

"hey roomies" Eddy winked cheekily at Brett when they'd finished their unpacking, lazying on the sofa with Brett beside him. Sweaty and exhausted from their activities earlier.

"roomies" Brett offered a fist bump.

Eddy didn't know much about life yet, about his future and adult life,  but one thing he was sure off, he could get used to Brett living together with him for the rest of his life like this,  two bros having each other's back.

until that one fateful night that will change all of their friendship.

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