Broken String

III

"So, have you heard about this new group?" Ian asks as they're all walking to the con together, like they do most days. 
"What group?" Todd says. 
"From South Korea, BTS, I think it's called. Jesus, those guys are beautiful. I'm not particularly into the music, but the look... wow. So smooth. I think they have no pores."
Brett grins. 
"I thought your type was Australian beach boys, not Asian pretty boys?"
He shoots a meaningful glance to Todd, all blonde beachy curls, his muscles clearly defined under the light short-sleeved button-down shirt he wears. 
"Well..." Ian says as he puts a meaningful arm around Todd for just a second, shooting an exaggerated smirk in Brett's direction. "That goes without saying, of course. But I can look, right?"
"You can look with me, in fact, tonight." Todd retorts. "You know, maybe we'll be inspired."
"Oh God, get the ear plugs ready." Brett quips to Eddy, who forgets for a moment how tired he is and laughs out loud. 
"Oh no." he grins, which earns him a jab to the shoulder from Todd. 
The right one, luckily.
He's not got it in him to say very much today, to join in the banter he loves, but he knows none of his friends will mind. So he waves as soon as they walk into the con and makes his way over to the reception desk, giving his most charming smile to the gray haired, bespectacled lady behind it. He's got theory, officially, in fifteen minutes, but he's skipping it today, he's already decided. He needs to practise before his violin lesson at twelve. He needs to get those runs of thirds right. So he needs a key to a practice room. 

It's five to twelve, he's given back the key and he's early, for once, pacing up and down in the hallway on the fifth floor. He knows how hard he's worked, he also knows it's not showing. And part of him wants to run away, run out of the building, to their apartment and under his quilt. Sleep for three weeks. Then he'll feel better. Or maybe ask his teacher if he can play, you know, twinkle twinkle or something. 
Anything but the Pag. 
His heart is in his throat and his stomach squirms, but then the door opens and his good friend Anna comes out. He manages a smile. 
"Hey! Wanna have coffee after?" she asks. 
"Yeah, sure." he responds automatically. "I don't have much time, though. I need to practise."
She puts her hand on his shoulder and flutters her eye lashes at him. 
"Yeah, yeah. But you can't be too busy for a cup of coffee with me."
"Never." he smiles again. 
To be honest, he kind of is too busy to have coffee with Anna, but that is not something he can say to her, of course.

He met Anna when he got invited with Brett, Todd and Ian as a quartet, to do a concert in Perth, years ago. She was concert master of the youth orchestra they played with then, but she joined them here at the con a few years later. She's lovely, sweet and very sarcastic. He waves at her now as she makes her way down the hallway, then rushes into his lesson. 
"Good morning, Eddy. What are we working on today?" his teacher asks before he has a chance to put his case down.  
His heart pounds and Brett's words from yesterday choose this moment to come back to haunt him, floating uncomfortably through his brain.
Why don't you just play sixteen? Or twenty?
And for a moment he seriously considers it. Surely he can read twenty better than he can play four right now?
"Um. Paganini four, I've been working on." he says quickly, before his inner chicken can take over. "And the Sibelius, of course."
His teacher smiles. 
"Alright, Eddy. You're ambitious as always. I like it. Let's have it, then."
His heart sings as he takes his violin out of its case and puts the shoulder rest on it. See? That is the kind of reaction people have to you playing Pag four. 
And it's exactly why it's what he needs to choose. He just needs to get it right, that's all.

He checks his tuning and starts on the four octave scale he's been given.