The Forests of Silence

Room for growth - October Cherry Blossom

"Eddy."

Eddy snapped back to reality at the voice. Brett was in front of him, handing him a cup. Eddy was sitting at the side of Brett's bed.

"Careful, it's hot," Brett softly told him as Eddy wrapped his fingers around the cup. The heat almost burned his hands but Eddy couldn't feel it.

Brett sat down next to Eddy, drinking his own tea. Eddy followed, taking a small sip.

It was chamomile. A warm scent radiated from the cup.

Eddy couldn't remember how he came to the dormitory. Everything was a blur. He just felt Brett's strong hand as it led him outside the concert hall - and now they were here.

"..I'm sorry, Eddy," Brett gazed down at his cup.

"I just... when I met him... I didn't want him to hurt you, that was all."

Eddy closed his eyes.

"Forgive me," Brett whispered.

Eddy's eyes burned.

Eddy knew there was nothing Brett should apologize to him for. Brett was right - Eddy was not ready to confront his father, not yet.

"...don't say you're sorry -" Eddy glanced at Brett, trying to smile.

"- I will have to end up kissing you again."

Brett smiled back at Eddy, remembering how Eddy kissed him, saying it was the commoner's way.

"Then what should I say instead?" Brett asked playfully.

Eddy leaned toward Brett, the scent of chamomile enveloping them.

"I love you, Brett."

.

.

The night was slow and careful for both of them.

"...I love you, Eddy," Brett would keep repeating the phrase as if he wanted to engrave it in every corner of Eddy's heart.

And those words ached as they carved themselves into Eddy.

.

.

Brett was sleeping beside Eddy. Eddy silently stepped out of bed and to Brett's desk.

Eddy couldn't sleep. Something inside him demanded attention, an arrangement. Something he couldn't fathom into words.

He took out a quill pen and started writing notes in a stack of paper, following his train of thought.

Could he ever be confident enough to confront his father?

No, not yet.

Could he ever be confident enough...to announce Brett as his, as Brett did in front of Anthony?

In front of all the aristocrats judging him by his poverty and status, probably not.

What is needed?

What should he do?

Talent wasn't enough. Recognition wasn't enough.

He did everything he can to reach where he is now.

Still, it wasn't enough.

He couldn't protect Brett nor convince his worth to his father.

The notes spilled from the tip of his pen to the paper, to the desk, to the wall.

Nothing will be enough for Brett.

The mere thought crushed his heart so Eddy tried harder to find a way, a way he can stay next to Brett.

The music in his brain stopped in the early morning. Now, Eddy had a plan.

The plan to be a better man for Brett.

Brett woke up in the morning with dreamy eyes. He yawned, still tired from last night.

Brett put on his glasses and he jolted from an astonishing sight in front of him.

The walls were all covered up with music. His desk was also covered in inky trails of melody. Stained papers were sprawled all over the floor, filled with notes after notes.

Eddy was crouching in the middle of the floor, a broken pen in front of him.

"...Eddy..??"

Brett called Eddy out hesitantly.

Eddy looked up at Brett with a determined look on his face.

"Sorry Brett, I ran out of paper."

Eddy inhaled a sharp breath as he looked down at his ink-stained hands.

"... I think I know what I should do from now."

He was going to debut as a soloist. Eddy was going to be one of the richest men in Handorr.