Broken String

CLXXII

Eddy sees the state of the living room and almost runs. Jesus, how many people has Todd gotten together at ridiculously short notice? It's like literally half the con is crammed into their space. Students are everywhere, first beer in hand, the couch overflowing, the corner by the window, where he watched the sunlight come and go for so many hours, overrun with people. Why isn't Todd using the roof terrace anyway? 
One look at his great friend's glowing face as he claps his hands to get everyone's attention and he knows.
Fuck. It's because of him. It's dark out. They wouldn't be able to see. That's why, isn't it? Suddenly the chair seems to swell up under him, pinching him to it, holding him captive, burning him. But he doesn't get up. He can't get up and run like a little boy. Even if he disagrees, Todd did all of this for him. 
"People! Hey! Quiet one moment!"
Obediently the crowd stills. 
Oh no, Oh God, Anna is there. In the corner, with that flute guy whose name he never remembers. Wait. Didn't she used to date him? It doesn't matter, because her soft eyes are on him and he cringes as he thinks of what they did last party. 
"So. We're having a party on the roof in just a mo, but first of all I would like my good friend Eddy in the chair over here to just go over to the kitchen and fetch me a beer."
Fuck. 
All eyes turn to him as one and he's the centre of attention he hates being. 
"Um." he says as the chair burns and pinches under him. Suddenly the moment is monumental. He's in here, like he has been for a while. He's about to get out, show the world he is well again. His eyes fly around the room as his hands move to the handlebars of their own accord, because all at once it's not him making the decisions anymore but it's all of them, pulling him out of the chair and back into life. Shit, is that a tear? No, no. Make it stop. He swallows and pushes up on the bars. His legs respond easily, kicking the footrests out of the way, his foot landing on the floor like it was never an issue at all. Adrenaline floods him enough that he doesn't even feel tingling, no, he feels strong. He feels healthy. The second foot hits the floor and he's up, up among the gasps. A stupid grin spreads on his face as he steps once, closing, then walks to the kitchen with the crowd parting in front of him like the sea to Moses. The surprised shouting starts but he ignores it because this is his victory lap now, his right of passage. He picks up the beer Todd has left out and twists the cap easily. Then he walks to Todd and hands it to him. 
"There you go, you idiot." he says. 
Todd will hear the undertone just fine, he's sure of that.  
"Thanks, Eddy." he winks, then carries on loudly. "So! People. Good news. Eddy can walk again. If he wants to answer questions he will but please don't bombard him. Now. The roof is open, let's party!"

Gratitude washes over him because he sees why Todd did this now. He sees it in his beaming smile, in the secret wink and eyebrow waggle he shoots him. He would have had to have endured six billion conversations like that time at the con, everyone and their dog asking him what was going on and how it had all happened. Now he doesn't, everyone knows he can walk and all he has to do is to decide in a real hurry what he does, and doesn't want known. 
"Hey, Eddy! Jeez, mate, what happened?"
A violist whose name he's also forgotten is the first to him. He smiles and shrugs. 
"They don't really know." he says, surprisingly smoothly. "Something went cross wired somewhere, but with physio I've been able to get back on my feet." He knows Todd can hear. He knows it will be what the story becomes. And it's not a lie. 
"Wow. And the violin?" the violist says.
"Um. I think I can start again next week but I'll have to be careful for a bit."
"Awesome, mate. So happy for you."
"Thanks." he smiles, but really he's saying it to Todd, who grins, waves his hand in the air and walks off towards the roof, leading the way for the crowd.