Play!

VII

Brett had to admit, the recital hall with its partly turquoise walls and high ceiling was pretty epic. 
“Wow”, Nathan behind him made while they shifted to the middle of the row in the last third of the hall where they’d spotted some empty seats.
“Yeah. Guess the Sydney con does beat ours”, Cole, following Nathan, remarked. 
“It’s not bad indeed”, Nathan admitted and sat down next to Brett.
Brett put his violin case on the empty seat next to him and sighed as he slowly got into the mood of this thing. “What are they playing again?”
“Ravel string quartet, my favorite”, Nathan dreamingly sighed. Brett got why. It was one of his top three too.
"It is a great string quartet. I think they're gonna play Fauré too. Heard the Sydney con's orchestra's conductor plays cello."
"And the others?", Brett asked Cole. Mr. Thames played the piano, so he probably wasn't in the picture this evening. 
"Dunno. All from Sydney, I reckon. Think it's a string quartet which performs regularly."
"Oh, they must be good then!", Nathan exclaimed. 
"Cool!", Brett smiled. Hopefully, the performance would give him some inspiration for his practice later on.

The hall filled up quickly and Brett started to wonder if there were enough seats for everyone, when someone next to him cleared his throat. He looked up to the one face he really didn't need near him tonight.
"Uhm, there is no other seat left. Could you…"
Eddy pointed at Brett's sacrilegious violin case, taking space where there was none.
"Oh… of- of course!", Brett stuttered, stunned by the longest sentence Eddy had spoken to him since they'd met. 
"Thanks", Eddy mumbled and plopped down, eyes so quickly averted Brett would think that guy was blinded by the sun if he wouldn't know any better. He glanced at his friends, their expressions as surprised as Brett's probably was.

Fortunately for him, there wasn't much time to ponder over his weird seatmate. The lights dimmed down and four musicians, including Mr. Jones, walked on stage under excited applause. They bowed, took their seats and tuned their instruments. 
"Bad luck, huh", Nathan whispered. 
"Of all people…", Brett chimed in.
The woman playing first violin and having weirdly similar hair to the Sydney con's conductor gave the quartet a quick nod and they were off. 
The warmth of the piece, the dreamy texture reached his ears and transported Brett to another universe. It was evident, starting from the first phrase that these guys had it down! He closed his eyes, sunk deeper into the chair and lost himself in the piece. The way the different instruments answered each other was magnificent and their perfectly rehearsed changes in dynamics certainly something Brett wanted to look out for in future ensemble projects to come. 
It was wonderful. Executed perfectly.

So why was there some tiny part of him, nagging him to tilt his head slightly so he could inconspicuously catch a glimpse of the-one-he-didn't-want-to-care-about? Eddy sat there, back straight like he'd swallowed a ruler. Bits of dark brown hair covered his forehead, framing his face gently. His lips were slightly opened as he listened in concentration, but it was his eyes that caught Brett's focus.
In this short day he'd interacted with Eddy, he'd never seen them this shiny, this… lively. They glittered with something Brett couldn't put a name on and it was so, there was no other word, beautiful, there was no way he could avert his gaze.
Brett never thought eyes that were either cold or irate most of the time could shine like that.

The piece reached the end of the first movement and the second was introduced with lively pizzicatos before transitioning into the energetic melody, carried by the violin and the viola. Eddy's eyes got even bigger and his upper body was whipping lightly to the rhythm, a testament of how outstanding this performance was.

So why did Brett find it impossible to lay his attention on what was happening on stage again?
He gulped, blinked a few times and shook his head in order to get out of his Eddy-focused stupor. Quartet! Ravel! Come on!
"You alright?", Nathan whispered with a frown when Brett finally had his eyes on what he wanted them to be. 
"Yeah, yeah…", Brett replied and took a deep breath. 

For the rest of the concert Brett kept his head locked in one position so hard his neck hurt like he'd instantly aged twenty years. After the performance and a drawn out, thrilled applause, Mr. Jones gave a proper welcome speech, emphasizing how wonderful this opportunity for everyone involved was and how these three weeks were going to be a fruitful experience, bringing forth new friendships and great synergy.
"I speak to everyone here, including us old and younger conductors", he winked at Mr. Thames in the first row, who gave him a wave, "that this is a time of learning, of improving on all levels. We will get to know more about communication, always, when we work with people, and new people in particular. And we will also learn more about ourselves, how our playing is perceived, how we function in an ensemble setting we don't know very well. It's in your hands, how big your treasure is going to be at the end, that you'll take home. Make the most of it!"
And with those inspirational words and another round of applause, the program was over.

"Well, what a concert, huh", Nathan commented with a big, satisfied smile while Brett moved his head left and right and massaged his neck. In his peripheral vision, he perceived Eddy standing up and turning around, waiting for the people in front of him to move.
"Yeah. Beautiful."
"You sure you alright? You seemed off during the thing."
"Yeah, headache", Brett half lied, but his sore neck almost promised an outcome similar to what he'd just described.
"Do you need painkillers?", Cole asked, his frown matching Nathan's. 
"Nah, fine. Will turn in early, I think. I still need to practice my Korngold a bit though."
"Don't go too hard on yourself, okay? Especially after you had to sit next to Chen." The last part, Nathan whispered. Brett knew why. Eddy was still trapped between him and the rest of the row, stepping from one foot to another. Brett didn't have to see him to know, he could feel the nervous movement.
"Hey!", Brett hissed and poked his elbow between Nathan's ribs, eliciting a yelp, "He's not that bad, okay? I actually think he really enjoyed the performance."
"Oh, did you talk to him?"
"No…"

But who's eyes glistened like a sea of galaxies when one listened to music could only love what he'd heard. With all his heart. And someone who could be this passionate about the beauty of classical music couldn't be so bad, right?