The Lyrics That Defined Us.

you and me.

12.

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes

I always forget that you can't read my mind

As long as I got you and me

Moving through this world as a two-man team

I'll always have everything I need

You don't even realise what you mean

No one could fall for you quite like me

No one could get me so perfectly

You don't even realise 

You're all that I need

Cause I want you and me, 

you and me

--

Eddy woke up to Brett pounding on the door. "Open up, idiot! Or else I'll start playing the viola!" With a loud grunt Eddy kicked the heavy blanket off of his body. His room was always chilled, just the way he liked. There was no point for the air conditioner to be at that low of a temperature in March but oh well, no one cared. "What the hell is wrong with you, you piece of crap?" were the first words to pass from his lips. Great starting to a day. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Prrr. Pffffft!" Brett pushed eddy aside and stomped into the room like it was his own. He rolled his eyes and looked at Eddy, "So what's the plan?" Eddy replied by rolling his eyes the same way as Brett's. He took lazy strides towards his bed and face planted on it. "For what?" came his muffled voice. "Oh, so you don't know?"  Brett changed his tone playfully, he turned his torso to face Eddy who was still nuzzling his blanket while purring like a cat. "You don't know?" Brett asked again and a "Ngh..." came as a reply. Brett was not having it, his face turned into a fox-like grin and his pearly whites started gleaming. He raised his hands and put his palm into a claw and mercilessly started jabbing at Eddy's sides. "AAAH!" came a loud high-pitched scream, then a few laughs, then a few more screams. "Oh I know, I know!" Eddy shouted. "AAH!" He screamed as Brett had no intentions on stopping. Eddy tried flailing his arms around but he got tangled up in the blankets. His legs were off the bed, so kicking Brett was not an option. Pleading? Pleading was an option. "Ah! Please stop! Please Brett! Please! I beg- AAH!" Nope. It was not. Brett refused to give up. Eddy turned breathless, his pleads turned to big gasps as he desperately needed oxygen in his system. His eyes were almost red from tearing up. 

Only when Eddy's body gave up fighting, did Brett stop. "Yes, mister. So what are we doing today?" Brett asked in a completely calm and innocent voice. Eddy took long breathes and looked up at Brett. He slowly got off the bed and walked towards the desk at the corner of his room. "Uh, so today? Err, I'll go have some breakfast, practice the violin, do some homework, complete some assi-" Eddy couldn't complete his sentence as a pillow came flying across the room. "Shut up, tell me seriously. What's the plan? You're turning 15!!" Brett squealed. Eddy grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. But like seriously got some homework to do, but I'll do them tomorrow. Today ma is taking us to the movies and we'll go get some pizzas. Only you, me Belle, and Jordon." Brett nodded gladly, "Amazing. Not a lot of people too. Perfecto!" Brett gestured with a little drama. "Anyways, so what's my gift eh?" Eddy asked. "Gift? What gift?" Brett asked, putting his dead-pan face on. 

He was always good at it.

Hiding his actual emotions behind a dead look. Is that what he did all the time? Did the dead-pan mean nothing? 

Or did it mean everything? 

Everything that happened, everything that's happening. Was it true? Was everything he said, true? Did he mean it? Or was it just another formality that he used to say to his friends? 

Was he  just another friend? 

Brett meant so much to him. Everything basically, but was it the same for him. Did Eddy mean the world to him too?

Did Eddy even mean anything?

"Oh? So should I get the words out of you?" Eddy put his hands in a similar claw. His eyes were glinting with mischief. Brett's dead-pan look broke, his eyes turned saucer-like. "No, no." He said scooting further back on the bed. "I'll tell you, uhh, come downstairs." With those words he scurried out of the bedroom and sprinted down the stairs. Eddy just grinned. He proceeded towards the washroom to brush his teeth and freshen up. When he reached downstairs, he saw Brett with his violin on his shoulder and under the chin. His bow was in his hand and he looked like he was ready to play. Eddy opened his mouth to say something but Brett quickly stopped him by taking a sharp breath in. He lifted his bow up and started playing. 

The piece was beautiful. Eddy first thought it might have been a song but quickly realized the music did not have just four chords and it actually sounded beautiful. It was not something he heard before. The piece began softly then suddenly became a bit louder and difficult but then went into a soft melody. Eddy had closed his eyes but he opened them when the soft and sweet sound of a piano joined the music. He saw his sister at the piano playing along, her eyes were closed and she had a small smile on her face. The same was with Brett. Eventhough the smiles were tiny, it showed in their playing that they cared. That they loved. That they felt. 

Yes, they did. But was the feelings for music or for him? Belle was out of this particular question. It was for Brett. Did he love Eddy or did he love the music? Did he care about Eddy or did he care about the music? 

Or maybe another way, did he love the music, only? Did he care about the music, only? 

Were they friends because of music, only? 

Were they just that? Music-pals? Music-buddies? 

Sudden double-stops took over the pleasant music. The tempo seemed a bit faster. The string-crossings were insane. The piece turned from soft to Paganini in a second. "There, that's your birthday gift. I wrote it for you." Brett had said when it ended, with a huge proud smile. "Thank you," were all that came out from Eddy's mouth in a mere whisper. But that whisper meant a lot. Two words in the soft, barely audible whisper meant the world. Atleast to Eddy. "I'll write more for you in the future. Every five years." Brett laughed. A hearty laugh. A laugh he used to hear all too often. 

But, something was off. Brett's piece had ended soft. It was sweet, honey-like. Not like this. It did not have this harsh tone. It did not have this angry sound.It did not sound like what Eddy was playing. Eddy glared the music sheet on the floor. "happy birthday eddy." The name read. Eddy wanted to play something to calm his mind. He had rummaged through his belongings to find something. Something playable. His fingers were twitching. His shoulder started to cramp all of a sudden. But Eddy had thrown every single sheet-music out. They all laid in a huge dumpster somewhere in the city. All Eddy could find was the music which Brett wrote in a corner, safely tucked away. The only sheet-music still in his house. He decided to play it. Just as he looked at it, he remembered. How Brett woke him up that morning. How he played it for him. He too started playing.

It started soft. Simple music.

Memories started flowing in. Memories of himself. Memories of his childhood. Memories of his music. Memories of his school. Memories of his playing. Memories of them.

Just as Brett came into his mind the music turned difficult. It became louder. But then his sister came in his mind. She calmed him down. The sweet and pleasant melody returned. The beauty of a piano too, filled his mind.

But then the memories came which shouldn't. The bitter-sweet ones. The ones which hurt. The ones which once seemed beautiful. The music took up speed. The tempo quickened. Sudden double stops came. The string-crossings became un-playable. The music turned to noise. 

Eddy stopped abruptly and looked at the music once more. Tears forming but never falling out.

"Every five years."

"I'll be waiting." 

"I will, be waiting."