Fantasia

Tears taste the same as the sea

I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream. 

-Once upon a dream,  Sleeping Beauty-

Eddy was hungry. 

The wind blew to his face, and when he opened his eyes, he knew too well where he was. 

One step, two-step toward the gingerbread house. Eddy gingerly reached out his hand to touch the wall of the warm cookies when a soft voice called from behind him. 

"Are you heading there, again?" The phantom spoke. 

"Leave me alone," Eddy gritted through his teeth. 

"What made you so angry tonight?" Brett stepped closer toward Eddy. "I do care." 

"Why would you?" Eddy sharply turned his head, looking at the mask hiding the face underneath. "You don't even know me."

"I care," Brett took a deep breath. "I care...because...because you... and I...we...."

"We are nothing," Eddy cut Brett's word short. 

"You invited me here." 

"That was...a mistake," Eddy shook his head. "I would have never invited you if...if I knew......"

If I knew you were Brett Yang, the violinist I admire. If I only knew you would cook every fucking damn meal just to get me to take a bite. If I only knew how I will have to show my ugliest moment to someone I will later find ... attractive.

Eddy sighed, turning to face phantom straight in the face. 

"I'm not worth your time," Eddy spoke with a trembling voice. 

"Why do you think that way?" 

"I'm...I'm hopeless," Eddy looked down to his feet. "Whatever you do, I will land up here again. I cannot control myself." 

"I will help you through that." 

"I'm cursed to eat until oblivion," Eddy could feel his eyes turn hot. "I became this way... because...because-" 

The image of his father, hanging from the ceiling. Empty music stand. Birds chirping outside. The world going on as if nothing happened. And his world, breaking into pieces. Music murdered my father, Eddy shouted out, only to hear silence from the other side. His death makes sense, the world nodded its head. He deserved to die. He wasn't good enough. And you, you will walk the same fate if you are less than perfect. 

Eddy shut his eyes tight, feeling the tears spilling to the ground. 

"You don't have to tell me, Eddy. I know it is hard," Brett spoke softly. 

"I'm disgusting." 

"Don't say that, please," Brett begged, reaching out his hands to take Eddy's face in his palms. "I don't want you to be sad. Let's think of something else."

"Like what?" Eddy sniffled. 

"Let's list all the things you like. Come on, I will start. This is going to be fun," Brett wiped the tears off Eddy's face with his sleeve. "You like custard pudding. You can eat a whole box to yourself and will risk getting sick afterward."

"I do like custard pudding," Eddy managed a smile, again, surprised at how much the phantom knows him. He doesn't question the phantom though, as a knowing voice guides him through his despair.

"You like Debussy. You also like Sibelius," Brett went on. "You like reading a random magazine at a hair shop..." 

"And?"

"...and you like me," Brett whispered, raising Eddy's face to meet him straight through the eyes that shine through the silver mask. "Right?"

Eddy could have objected right then and there. Shout out loud that this wasn't true. Snort and laugh at the phantom's words like swatting a fly that wasn't worth his time. However, to his surprise, Eddy stayed silent. Eddy could not explain why, but the phantom was so familiar, nostalgic even. The moment they met it didn't come to the realization at first but the phantom's presence molded into his reality as if he has been there all the time. Eddy was drawn to Brett's presence as if missing an old friend. But why? Eddy did not know the answer to that. 

Eddy did not dare to blink as the phantom closed the distance between them, closing the salty lips with his. 

And the answer was, yes.