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XLVII

“Eddy?”, Brett yelled, heart thumping in his throat while a desperate Fuck! looped in his mind, over and over again. 

Had he ruined this new friendship he’d just built over the past few days with a kind, wonderful, talented musician? Had he scared Eddy away for good with his careless actions and the fact that his hands had decided to operate on autopilot tonight? It had been too long, too close whatever this had been on that damned dance floor, Brett was sure of it! Why else would Eddy run off? Or had he simply taken the opportunity to finally go home and enjoy his peace without an annoying dude forcing him to do stuff he didn’t want to? Maybe… that would be the best outcome actually and Brett could act as if nothing had happened in the club the next morning, play it off as some drunk ass joke or something while somewhere in his chest, a little nudge fought against the mighty voice of denial suppressing everything inside him that wanted to so much as reveal another possibility.

Brett shook his head violently as he ran around the corner of the block the club was situated in. 
“Eddy! Where the hell are you?”
No tall, Asian guy walking down this street. Did he go the other way? Brett cursed himself for not asking Eddy for his phone number at some point the past five days, turned on his heel and dashed back, past the entrance and towards what Brett guessed, must have been the seaside. He only threw a quick glance down a side alley and almost missed it, skidded to a halt and took a few steps backwards. 

There he was. Sporting an Asian squad Brett was jealous of because his weak legs were unable to remain in this position for too long without cutting off circulation and falling off, eyes cast down on the dirty ground where an abandoned plastic bag was flying in circles in the light evening breeze.

“Eddy!”
The person in question lifted his head, looking mildly surprised. “Brett?”
“Dude! You left?” Brett asked despite fearing the answer like an adjudicator’s verdict. He came closer and crouched down to match Eddy’s eye level, ignoring the numerous cigarette butts scattering the ground, getting dangerously close to the newish shorts he’d had to buy a week before the camp due to lack of proper clothing.
“Figured you wanted some space.”
“Everyone in there needs space, like literally”, Brett said. Eddy snorted, which the smaller took as a good sign. Not all hope was lost if he could still make Eddy snigger, no?
“But why did you think that? I was running up and down this whole place to look for you.”
Eddy’s features lit up a tiny bit. “You did?”
“Well, yeah! I wouldn’t have found you in this ditch if I didn’t!”
He dropped his head again. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” There had been nothing else Brett had wanted to do back then than search for Eddy Chen. “Now will you please tell me why you ran away? Was it my bad dancing, or…” All the other options were too scary to ask out loud, so he just let the sentence trail off like an unfinished, pained musical phrase. 
Eddy turned his head left and right. “Didn’t want to be in the way”, he mumbled almost inaudibly.
Brett furrowed his brow. “Why the hell would you be?”
“Well, it looked like you had fun with… you know.”

Brett’s eyes widened as realization hit him hard over what Eddy was talking about, or rather, who.
“What? Katie?”
Eddy put on a smile. “Yeah. You look great together, you two.”
“Dude!”, Brett exclaimed, making Eddy flinch. He laid his head back, palms pressed on his eyes as an incredulous chuckle escaped his scratchy throat, courtesy of all the yelling, both in the club and for Eddy. “I’d rather have you save me from her than ‘give us some space’!”

Was that really it? Brett dancing with Katie was the reason Eddy had left the scene?

“Uh…”, the taller uttered.
“I told you I don’t like her like that, right? And I do mean it.”
“Hmm, true.” Eddy scratched the back of his head and looked relaxed again for the first time since Brett had found him.
“Plus, she stresses me out! Next time she grabbes me, you pull me away from her, deal?”
“She grabbed you? I thought you took her hands… that’s why I wanted to leave you guys alone.”
“Why the fuck would I take her hands if I’m not interested in her?”
“I don’t know… the same reason you… held… me?”

The crescent moon towering over Sydney shimmered in Eddy’s eyes as his gaze shot the question at Brett, quietly and yet intently, unyieldingly, making Brett’s blood freeze and his heart either beating an allegretto or entering a long drawn rest entirely, he couldn’t tell.

Shit. Shit, shit shit! How was he supposed to explain himself without knowing what had gotten into him in the first place?
“You…”, he croaked, “you mean…”
“Partying, being tipsy, stuff like that just happens, right?”
Was there a slight irritation detectable in Eddy’s voice? Brett swallowed hard. 
“Uhm, Eddy, just to put it out there, I didn’t-”
“Sorry!”, the other said and shot up, causing Brett to almost fall on his butt. “Forget I ever said anything! It was a fun night, but I think I’m gonna get my violin and head back, if you don’t mind…” 

Normally, he would run after him again and he wanted to. This time however, Brett just gaped at the tall figure leaving with fast, wide strides, turning around the corner, probably entering the club to get his instrument from the cloaking desk.

Partying, being tipsy…”Stuff like that just happens”, he’d said. What stuff? Did Eddy mean what Brett thought he meant? Did he think Brett did what he did because he was drunk and wanted to have fun on other people’s expenses?

Was he right?

Brett let out a trembling “Fuck!”. There was no escaping it, no turning a blind eye on what the hell Brett had done tonight because if he did, shit would just blow up in his face even more spectacular.

He turned around so his back faced the wall and sat down on the cool, dirty concrete ground, not caring about staining his new shorts anymore. The back of his head hit the bricks of the building and he pushed his skull against it harder than necesary, hoping the pain would give him some kind of clarity. 

Alright! Fact check! He’d had like half a beer (much in contrast to one guy slugging down his drink impressively in no more than three gulps), which wasn’t much at all, even for his small, Asian frame and if he was being super honest, it didn’t serve well as an excuse. However, the drink had made him bolder for sure, so it might have been the combination of this and the situation? Them being in a club and all, Eddy for the first time even? 
Maybe. Maybe Brett had simply wanted to show Eddy how to “behave” in this social context and his hands had just so happened to land on Eddy’s (warm, firm…) hips. Then wasn’t it just like Eddy had said? A bit of alcohol and a club turned Brett into a flirting, touchy idiot?
And why hadn’t he let go when Eddy had the moves down? He could have, long before his hands slid to somewhere else on the other’s body…

Brett shivered, despite the twentysomething degrees thermometers around the city still displayed at this late hour.

He was getting nowhere, he knew, here, on the filthy ground of this side alley. He also knew that he had to apologize to Eddy for dragging him on the dance floor and holding him when he so clearly shouldn’t have, because in midst of all the confusing whys and maybes, there was one thing Brett was certain about: Eddy was pissed, maybe even hurt. And it made Brett sick to his stomach that he’d been the cause for it.