distraction: you

chapter sixteen

"you like him, don't you?"

brett doesn't think he's ever heard a question so innocently delivered in his entire life, but with the way it hits home in his chest, he doesn't really dwell too long on his analysis of cynthia's oddly angelic smile.

okay, so maybe he's been spending way more time with eddy than with any of his other friends, but that's just because he met eddy first. he'd obviously be more comfortable spending time with someone he's known for longer. and yes, he's been staring a whole lot more than he should; that's definitely not a normal thing to do, but then who wouldn't be staring at eddy chen? he's too magnetic a personality, too enticing a—wait. wait.

does that mean that⁠—that he⁠—

"n-no," he stutters in reply; when it comes to denials, that would have to be the most pathetic attempt in the world. cynthia looks unimpressed, but brett barrels on. "i mean⁠—i like him as a musician, as a person, as a," he cuts himself off there; he had been about to say friend, but the evidence speaks against him, now that's he actually giving some thought to it.

so—that—he actually does—like like eddy?

"right, and i'm actually yo-yo ma playing dress up," cynthia deadpans, fluttering her pink nails at him. "you can't be this obtuse, can you? or are you deliberately messing with me?"

"no, no, i'm—just surprised, is all," brett finishes lamely, his gaze falling down on his half-eaten salad. he imagines the lettuce looks back at him blankly.

okay, so fine. maybe he does like eddy chen, but so what? it doesn't have to change anything. it's not like this teeniest hint of a crush is going anywhere, anyway. eddy chen is leagues above brett yang, and that's a fact that's never going to change any time soon.

after a few beats of silence, he shrugs wordlessly, begins digging into his food again to finish it up and head back to the concert hall.

cynthia looks at him in mild disbelief. "we're not talking about this?" she demands, and brett shakes his head in response. "ah—well, okay. suit yourself." the cellist grumbles more words his ears don't quite catch, but the moment has passed: it's time to get their heads back in the game and focus on their jobs.

this whole thing can be better absorbed later. he has other things to worry about right now.

• • •

brett's not avoiding eddy chen. nah, why would anyone think that? he's just—conveniently doing other things whenever the other comes within a twenty-feet radius of him, that's all.

the moment they finish a section and the conductor motions for a short break, brett feels eddy's gaze on him. he can't help it—he immediately bolts from his seat to make a show of heading over to the toilet. he doesn't quite run as he leaves the stage, but it's a near thing. 

brett times it just so that when he comes back, they're starting all over again, any opportunities for conversation lost to the wind. he takes care not to look too long or at all if he can help it, and it's then that he realizes just how much of a conscious choice it is not to stare at his friend.

god, cynthia had been right. in hindsight, the knowledge is extremely embarrassing.

again after rehearsal, brett manages to dodge eddy's approach via a well-timed diversion with the giggly twins from the first violins, laughing along with one of their jokes as they move away to pack their instruments. as he puts away his violin in his case, he manages to sneak a glance at eddy out of the corner of his eye. the other man looks—a little lost. the uncertainty on his face doesn't suit him at all.

(brett chooses not to think that the expression might have something to do with him.)

"this is just sad to watch," murmurs cynthia as he passes by her, and brett pointedly ignores the comment. 

he's not avoiding eddy chen. he's just not prepared to interact with him right now.

(in the deepest recesses of his mind, brett knows they'll have to face each other again. it feels inevitable, as everything else involving eddy has so far. and when that happens—he doesn't quite know what he'll do.)