Broken String

XVI

He startles awake, edges of haunting dreams and leering eyes behind rimmed glasses still swimming around his head. He half sits up and looks around the room in shock.
Wait.
Was Brett here? He isn't here now, but he remembers vividly now, how he was here last night, how he woke him up from his nightmare.
Oh God. In fact, he vividly remembers how he cried into his shoulder, made him lie down next to him.
Eddy cringes hard and has to physically stop himself from pulling the quilt over his head like some sort of three year old, so he won't have to deal with this, won't have to face him.
Will Brett be up? Probably. Eddy is always the last one awake, the most likely to be late. Will he... will he have told the others? The thought is almost too shameful to even entertain.
There's nothing for it though, is there? He needs to get up. Needs to face the proverbial music, and then the literal music after that.
Which is going to blow, he knows that already. His hand and whole forearm throb dully and when he pushes himself up he winces. How is he going to play the violin at all today?
"Ow. Fuck." he mutters. 
Oh yeah. He promised Brett to call the physio. He heaves a deep sigh and gets dressed, trying not to use his left hand as much as he can. 

"Good morning." Brett says from their table. He looks up briefly from his cereal, then takes another huge bite, waving towards the work surface. "I left the cereal out for you."
A  huge wave of relief washes over Eddy. Clearly, Brett has said nothing, because Todd is making eggs in the kitchen and grunts good morning, while Ian is warming up, he can hear his scales coming through the thin walls. 
"Thanks." he mutters. 
He's actually really not hungry, his stomach is arid and only just the right side of nauseous, but he'll be damned if he says that now. 
What will he do? He knows Brett's facial expressions well enough to know that right now he could say nothing at all about last night and he'll just let it go. But when Todd walks to his and Ian's bedroom he takes his chance anyway, because Brett deserves more than that after he kept him up half the night. 
"Thanks, for last night. I'm so sorry."
Brett shrugs. 
"Of course. Did you sleep? How's the hand?"
"Sort of." he answers. "Hand's sore. Arm too."
Brett shoots him a look. 
"I'll call." he answers the question in his best friend's eyes before he can say it again. "I will."
Brett nods as Todd walks back into the living room, this time with Ian on his heel. 
"So. Rehearsal today?" he carries on as if nothing out of the ordinary has just been said.

It's the first thing he does when he closes the door of the practice room behind him. It was a different person behind the reception, today, some guy he hasn't seen very often, and he knows it's stupid, but it was a relief all the same.
The physio picks up on the third ring and asks how she may help him.
"Hi. Um. This is Eddy Chen." he half stammers. "I'm a violinist, and I've been having this pain in my hand and arm. So now my best friend made me call you."
The lady on the line chuckles lightly.
"Sounds like your best friend has your best interests at heart. I actually have a cancellation today. How about three o clock this afternoon?"
"Whoa... that's soon!" he blurts out before he can apply a brain to mouth filter. "Um. Sorry. Yes, please."
He really doesn't want to. God, how much he does not want to go to any stinking physio's . But he's promised. Might as well take the chance. 
"Good! Can I get your phone number?" the upbeat voice says. 
He gives it to her and heaves a deep sigh as he hangs up. 

Okay. So he has a few hours before he's going to a physio who will say God knows what. Might as well make the hours count. So he picks up the sheet music to the Paganini, tunes his violin, bites his lips and starts his four octave scale, but the second his bow hits the E string he sinks down on the chair in shock, his violin limply lying on his lap. 
Fuck.

His right hand has just started hurting.