The Lyrics That Defined Us.

when we were young.

23.

Everybody loves the things you do

From the way you talk

To the way you move

Everybody here is watching you,

'Cause you feel like home

You're like a dream come true,

But if by chance you're here alone

Can I have a moment

Before I go?

'Cause I've been by myself all night long

Hoping you're someone I used to know

You look like a movie

You sound like a song

My God, this reminds me

Of when we were young

--

"Oh my god, he plays so beautifully..."

"Where did he go?"

"Mark said he was leaving."

"Oh maybe he left too,"

"Imagine being a friend of him,"

"I heard he is a great guy."

"His friends would be so lucky."

"To have him, yeah."

"Imagine being his teacher, you'd be so proud."

"Ha, yeah man."

"I wish I could talk to him but he left so early,"

"Does he not drink?"

"Don't know."

Eddy hated being so close to people who were talking about Brett as if he were a God. He was sitting there fuming, while waiting for his girlfriend to come, listening to some young people fangirling and fanboying over Brett. Yeah, sure, the Tchaikovsky was amazing but they should seriously stop. It was almost as if they were ready write a book about him and his greatness.

Eddy scoffed to the thought he once, too was like these teenagers. Completely blinded by Brett and thought whatever he did was amazing. Oh did they know, Eddy had helped Brett throughout the Tchaikovsky concerto? Did they know how much time he spent just sitting in a practice room calming an overly-angry Brett Yang and saving his poor sheets-music from getting shredded to pieces? No.

"Hi." Mary popped up behind Eddy. "Hey," Mary immediately noticed Eddy's mood change and took a guess, "Is it because he was here? Are you upset because of that?" Close shot. Eddy shook his head, unsure. "Yeah but no. I met him outside." Mary rubbed Eddy's back, "Did you see the..." Mary trailed off not knowing if she stepping into the right territory or not. "Ring? Yes. Mark is the guy." Mary gasped, then smiled, "Oh nice, did you meet him too?" Eddy shook his head lightly, "Yeah."

Mary wasn't liking Eddy's weird behavior, "Do you wanna leave, Ed? I saw your parents, I can go tell them you are not feeling fine." Eddy smiled weakly, "Actually, yeah I want to leave." Mary nodded and headed right back to talk to his parents and tell them they were going to his apartment. She came back after fifteen minutes, by the time the cab was already waiting outside, "Hey boo." Eddy smiled. "Hi, let's leave, yeah?" Eddy nodded, taking Mary's hand and leading her out the door.

They reached their home and lethargy hit them like a bus as soon as Eddy opened the door and familiar warm air and the smell of home came to their noses. Mary lazily leaned against the wall and took her shoes off. "Do you know the piece he played?" Eddy asked curious, he didn't actually know if Mary liked classical music or not. Mary shook her head, slowly, "To be honest I think I heard chai coffee, I don't know." Eddy bursted out laughing,"The hell?" And then Mary blushed, looking like a beet root. "Tchaikovsky, pretty close though I must say." Eddy laughed and breathed out. "I still hear chai coffee." Mary mumbled, a little ashamed. "Tchai-kov-skee" Eddy said slowly, not entirely stopping his thunderous laughter. "Oh okay got it! Tch-kovsky!" Mary's accent was not helping here. "Tchai. Like you say chai, tea? Tchai-kovsky." Mary nodded, "Tchai-kov-sky! I said it, yeah!" Mary shouted, proud. "That's my girl!" Eddy hugged her.

Some how amongst all this they ended up in bed together. Though they still weren't changed, and needed to, too. There was no way they were sleeping in those fancy clothes and blings. So they did and went to sleep. Mary was out completely, nuzzling close to Eddy's neck relishing the warmth.

Maybe he didn't have to remember Brett anymore. Really. He could very well just forget him. There are real gems with him now. Real jewels. Real treasure. He would rather keep them than a fake friend. He didn't even come in his dreams now. And well if he did, they'd turn into nightmares.

And maybe his kind of treasure didn't shine for everyone but he was very happy to know that they glowed for him. If they needed to, they would burn for him.
Maybe his treasure wasn't gold, silver, platinum or ruby. They were much more simple. Flesh and bones, with hearts that cared and loved. After all it's the simple things that matter the most.

Maybe he would never have a stage for himself, never have an audience in front of him who would be in awe because of him. And personally, he didn't care. He would grow up as a great professor, tutor kids to perfection, make them steady and help them stand on their own feet. Make them a good generation, inculcate good habits, and make them better people.

Then he would have more treasure for himself.