Broken String

X

"Eddy? It's time to get on stage."
Eddy startles and looks up from his spot at the table at the lady who has just opened the door. Wait. Is that the lady from reception? Why is she here? He looks around the practice room. Wait. He was just practising the Sibelius, right? He's just taking a break? Is that not okay? 
"Come on, Eddy. You need to get on stage, now." The lady eyes him sternly. "Come on."
He gets up and steps out into the hall to follow her. What else is he going to do? But she points back inside and chuckles. 
She has a mean chuckle. 
"Don't forget your violin, hey? You'll need it."
His eyes open wide as he grabs his violin and his bow and follows the lady through the hall, down the stairs and to the concert hall. She opens the stage door without another word and pushes him in. 
Fuck. 
The whole auditorium is full of people, looking at him expectantly, applauding. The stage is full of orchestra, Brett beaming at him from the concert master's spot. 
He must have to play. It's got to be Sibelius, right? But he's not nearly ready! He doesn't have the up bow staccato thirds yet! His tenths in the third movement are all over the place! Where did his time go?
What is he to do? Can he still run out? But when he looks back at the door all he sees is the leering grin of the reception lady, who slowly closes the door, blocking his escape. So he takes a deep breath and steps forward, walking past his fellow students and into the soloists spot. 

He knows, somewhere, that he's supposed to be enjoying this, but his heart is hammering in his throat, and he's having to take deep breaths to quell the nausea that is welling up hard. The conductor just grins at him though, and starts the orchestra. 
Wait! He's not even tuned yet! The trip through the building must have changed his strings! But there's nothing he can do but watch in horror as a thousand faces look up at him and the orchestra starts its tremolo behind him. 
He hides his shocked inhale, puts his violin on his shoulder and quickly tries to find the right G. Fourth position, third finger. It's not hard, but he already knows he's screwed anyway. His bow comes down gently on the string, but his G is very flat, and to make it worse his bow shakes violently, completely destroying the gorgeous, ethereal opening. He's already fucking it up. All his work has been for nothing. He gulps in a breath as he plays the D and his bow almost skids off the A string. 
"No..." he whispers. "No!"
"NO!!"

"Eddy! Eddy, wake up."
Something is shaking at his arm, making his bow even worse. But then his eyes fly open. 
"Eddy. Bro. Wake up. You're having a nightmare."
"Brett?"
He's here, he's in his room, it's pitch black out. 
"It was a dream." he blurts out. "Oh, God! It was a dream!"
"Yeah."
Brett sits down on the side of his bed and Eddy can't help himself, he throws his arms around his waist and buries his face in his t-shirt. His heart is still going at quaver equals 180 and he just can't catch his breath. 
"It was a dream. It was just a dream." he whispers as he lets Brett go, more than a little embarrassed to have grabbed him like that. 
Brett just smiles, though, he can just about see that in the little bit of dusky light that falls through the windows from the street lights in the park below. 
"Some dream. What happened?"
The silliness of it all crashes over Eddy now. 
"God, I'm so sorry Brett. Sorry for waking you and um... for grabbing you too."
"Don't worry about it. So... what happened? In the dream?"
Eddy shrugs as he sits up a bit. It's easier when you're level with someone, rather than prostrate, when you've just made a fool of yourself. 
"I had to play the Sibelius, suddenly. You know, the concert at the con. No idea where that all came from."
Brett grins slightly. 
"Well... I have an idea where it came from. It's fucking scary, you know. I was shitting myself last year, when I played the Tchaik."
"Yeah?"
"Absolutely. You'll be fine, Eddy."
"God, I hope you're right."
"I know I am." Brett says. "So, you wanna try and sleep some more?"
"Yeah." Eddy says, although to be honest he'd rather not. He'd rather get up and play Smash Bros. But that's not really something you can say to somebody you've just woken up in the middle of the night. 
"Let's get some sleep then. Thanks for waking me up."