Andante

CLV

The trip back was quiet, much more quiet than usual, the silence hanging uncomfortably between them. Brett didn't even ask whether Eddy wanted to go for Bubble tea, and even though Eddy knew that Brett was just giving him space because he realised how he was, it only pulled him further down, because part of him wanted to believe that Brett was upset with him for sucking so bad, and just wanted to get away from him. 
He stared miserably out of the window at the Brisbane streets. Shoppers were milling about, living their normal lives. He guessed they were feeling normal, too. 
Must be nice. 
He'd seen the look on Lily's face as he'd hugged her and kissed her on the cheeks, thanking her again for all of her help. 
"You were great, Eddy. Don't doubt it." she had said, giving him the sweetest smile.  
Well. Great. So he guessed he wasn't even fooling Lily. He really did have the worst poker face in the universe. 

The bus arrived at the stop at last, and Eddy walked down the little steps with Brett on his heels. 
Brett smiled a tight smile. 
"Eddy... I wish I could come with you now, that I could lie with you and hold you. Please.... you did well, okay?"
"Thanks, Brett." he whispered. "I wish that too."
It was a lie, for once. Even though half of him desperately wanted to bury his head in Brett's chest, desperately wanted to be held and comforted, the bigger half knew he deserved no such thing. He could deal with his own shit on his own. 
"Lily is going to send the video over in a minute and I'll start editing, okay? I'll send it to you in a little bit, you can watch. Okay?"
Eddy just nodded. "Thanks."
Brett brushed the back of his hand against Eddy's softly, smiled at him one more time and walked in the direction of his house. 

Eddy didn't hesitate. There was only one place he needed to be right now and that was his room. He ran for it, as fast as the violin case on his back would allow. He rushed into the door, ignored his mum's surprised eyes, bolted up the stairs and threw himself on his bed. 

He had only just gotten into his dark night of the soul when the door opened with the softest of creaks and there were footsteps heading towards the bed. Soft, feminine footsteps. He didn't raise his head from where he'd buried it into the pillow. 
She spoke softly in Mandarin.
"Eddy. Did this not go as well as you had hoped?"
She sat down on the edge of his bed and put her hand on his back. Angry tears started spilling out of his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop them. He couldn't remember the last time his mum had seen him cry, but he was powerless against this onslaught. 
"I sucked, mum." he said harshly and turned back into his pillow. 
She was quiet for a long moment, her hand still on his back. He didn't even brace himself for the 'you should have worked harder' he figured was coming. 
He deserved it. 
"Eddy. Just wait for the recording to come, okay? You did the best you could. It's probably not as bad as you think now."

He was so shocked at this statement that the tears stopped and he sat up in one movement. He looked at his mother in astonishment, but she just smiled. 
"I know how hard you worked."
He looked down at his thighs. "It wasn't hard enough."
"Yes it was. You just expect the best of yourself. That's not a bad thing. Unless you let it tear you down."
His mum was quiet for a long while before she carried on. "We're Asian. We work hard."
And as the shock of her unexpected reaction ebbed away he saw the truth of that statement in her eyes. He saw her parents, before her, spurring her on, expecting the most of her. And their parents before them, doing the same. He saw the pain that she had never shown him before. 
"M... mum." he managed, before he threw his arms around her and hugged her tight. 

It was a long while before he let go, picked up his phone and checked his e-mail. 
"It's here." he told her feebly. "Will you listen to it with me?"
"Of course."
He downloaded the video with shaking fingers and pressed play. 
He looked at the small video of himself almost as if he were looking at a stranger. A young man, gangly, his violin small in his long arms. But his lines were long and light, his tone lyrical and bright. He could still hear the mistakes, here and there, but... 
"It... it's not as bad as I thought." he stammered. 
His mum smiled kindly. "Things never are."