We don't want to label it

XV

Okay, so of course it's a real shame Tory's gone home, especially because every time he thinks of what she said and how she left a wave of anxiety blossoms from the pit of his stomach, blooming through his system until it settles behind his sternum, stopping him from being able to take a full breath. But he remedies it pretty well by editing everything that's been waiting for him and practising for an hour and a half. Brett is there, working side by side like he usually does, practising on and off, and they get through pretty much everything that's been looming over their heads for days. 

He's just about to close his laptop with a satisfied sigh and suggest they watch some TV and go to bed when his phone rings. He picks it up and freezes.
"Who?" Brett asks.
"It's my mum. What the..."
Shock floods him because why the hell is she calling him at half past ten? Is something wrong? She is usually in bed by now! 
"Hi mum." he answers urgently. "Are you okay?"
"No." she says quietly. "Eddy. Do you not love your mother?"
"What?!" He stops breathing and something inside him clenches hard. 
Wait. 
She wouldn't.
No. No way. 
She wouldn't. 
He shakes his head hard to dispel the ridiculous notion. 
"Eddy. You say you love me, but you're about to throw away your career. The little bit of a career that you have. Why? Why?"
Eddy's eyes open wide at her imploring, plaintive tone and instantly anger courses through him hard. 
She did. Tory called her. He jumps up and starts pacing so he doesn't scream, ignoring Brett's panicked glance. 
Unbefuckinglievable. 
"Mum, calm down." he says, much more calmly than he feels. "Firstly, nothing is sure yet. Secondly, she should not have told you that, it should have been me telling you once I know more. This is just a seed of a thought. You must know by now that I don't do things lightly."
He rubs his forehead and shakes his head again, then sits down right next to Brett, who is clearly starting to understand what's happened because his face has just gone from concerned to thundercloud. 
"No, Eddy. Look. It's bad enough you're a musician when you could have been a doctor. This silly business with Twoset is just a distraction from what you're supposed to..."
"Mum." he interrupts in a tone so weary he surprises himself. Because haven't they done this dance, ad nauseam ad infinitum? Isn't this dance done, by now?
"But Eddy..."
"Mum, stop. I will cry." he warns, but an angry, scalding tear is already forming on his right lower eyelid. He swipes at it as he jumps up again. He paces to the window and back, then leans against the piano as if it can help him. "We know what we're doing. Don't worry about us. Please."

He knows her better than anyone. He can feel her calming through the phone. And he knows, he knows like he always did but it is easier now he's grown, now he's got his own place. 
She doesn't mean it in a bad way. She loves him, she's looking out for him. 
Doesn't stop him being fucking pissed, though. 
"It's all good, mum. It's just an idea. If it goes beyond that I will be the one to tell you all about it."
He knows very well that she's only half convinced but she drops it and tells him a story about his uncle that he doesn't listen to because everything inside him is clenched. Then she says goodnight, and she's gone. He stands for long seconds, listening to the dial tone. Then he unfreezes with a swift move.
"I can't believe she unleashed my mother on me."
"I can't believe it either." Brett tells him soberly. 

There are no more words in him, there is nothing left to say to quell the storm inside. He simply scoots the chair he was just working on over, sits down right next to Brett and buries his face in his shoulder.