Broken String

XXXVIII

The afternoon drags, and drags, and drags. He's still feeling a little sick, courtesy of all the beer he drank the night before. Usually he would fry an egg or two at this point to calm his stomach down, but he can't today, very obviously. He can't even get up on his own, let alone cook eggs, and he'll be damned if he stops Ian practising to make them for him. Look, it's simple: he had his chance to have breakfast, earlier when everybody else did, and he didn't take it, so suck it up, buttercup. He sinks a bit deeper into the couch and there's not really very much for him to do but stew. 
How many stupid things can one guy do in one night? He can still see Anna's face, he doesn't even need to close his eyes, as clearly as if she were still here. So pale she almost looks white. Hurt, clearly. 
She said that wasn't on him. Well, like hell it's not. He should have known better. Clearly Brett knew better. How blind has he been then?
God, how he wishes he could fry that egg and then put his sneakers on and go for a run, clear his head. He's just making himself crazy like this. His heart rate is through the roof again and he's slightly dizzy. He takes a deep breath and flicks past the channels once more. 

He almost jumps up when there's footsteps on the stairs. Is it Brett? He wills it to be Brett, even though he's scolding himself the second the wish pulls through him.
Why would it be so much less good if it's Todd, done early with rehearsal? 
"Hey."
It is Brett, and Eddy has to swallow hard to stop himself from crying yet again when he hears his gentle voice, sees his worried eyes. 
"Hey." he whispers back, then watches as Brett's face falls. He nods as he kicks off his shoes and walks over to him, sitting down next to him on the couch.  
"You struggling?" 
Eddy shrugs and looks down at his lap. Look, it's not like Brett doesn't realise he's struggling whether he admits it or not. But still. He can't tell him yes. 
"Anna was here." he says instead.
"Shit, what? Wait, you mean she just turned up?"
"Yep." Eddy shrugs again, still looking down. Not that his upper legs have anything useful to add. "You were right. She likes me."
"Oh, shit."
Brett laughs suddenly, curtly, fatalistically, the half barked sound a shock in the quiet room. "Shit, man." he repeats then. "That must have sucked." 
"Okay, okay, so you can rub it in. How long have you known that she likes me for?"
"Um, since Perth?" 
Now Eddy does look at him, his eyes sweeping up and finding Brett's.
"Why didn't you say?"
Brett shrugs. 
"I wasn't sure or anything. Seemed like a stupid thing to guess on. Now I wish I had, though, because I can see you're conflicted about it."
"Conflicted." Eddy scoffs. "If that means I feel like a jack ass, then sure." 
He looks away, out of the window. The sun is bright, out there. It would have been a lovely day for a jog as well. Not too hot for once, since it's the middle of winter. 
"Eddy, you weren't alone, yeah?" Brett says gently. "She was there too, yeah?"  
"Yeah." Eddy says, dragging his attention away from the window with resolve. He knows that what Brett is saying is true. It doesn't make him less of a jack ass, though. And he really, really doesn't want to talk about it anymore. "Um. Do you think you could fry me an egg?"
Brett will never know how much of a defeat it is, asking him for the wretched eggs. That he probably wouldn't have asked at all if he wasn't so desperate to change the subject, that he would have stayed quiet and waited until someone offered. So Brett simply nods and gets up. 
"Sure. Two? Three?"
"Two."

Brett heats up a frying pan and cracks the eggs in. A little too early, Eddy knows the oil can't possibly be hot yet, but who cares at this point? His best friend is here and he's making food for him. He blinks and looks back down at his legs.
"So, apparently my brother is doing well at med school." Brett says in a telltale tone as he picks up the silicone spatula and checks to see if he can get it under the side of the egg.
Eddy grins softly.
"Saving the grace of the Yang family since 2012, hey?"
Brett scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. I don't know whether to thank him or kick him."
Eddy grins again.
"Be grateful. At least your brother is keeping the heat off you, oh Disgrace of the Yang family."
"Yeah, yeah. Shall I remind you you had to literally apply to med school to get your mum out of your hair?" Brett grins as he slides the eggs onto a plate and turns around with them.
"You're a life saver. My stomach will thank you. And no, I can remember that perfectly well, thank you."

He shouldn't have said that first bit, he knows that straight away as Brett's eyebrows knit together. 
"Wait, had you not eaten?" Brett says in a low voice. 
"Nah, Ian was practising, I figured I'd wait." he says offhandedly, taking the plate from his best friend with a shrug and quickly taking a huge mouthful. His stomach rumbles gratefully and instantly becomes a much less arid place.  
"Eddy! Jesus Christ."
Brett sits down again, his head shaking from side to side like there's a tiny, localised earthquake going on. His face is... stern. There's no other word for it. "You need to ask these things. Eddy. Seriously. Why else are we here?"

What are the tears doing, pricking behind his eyes again, threatening to overflow? And why are there no words anywhere to be found, other than the ones that are true?
"It's hard, though." he whispers. "It's just... it's hard."