chapter nineteen

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despite the churning feeling that sits in his gut after a few days⁠—he had basically sacrificed his own dream to become a soloist at the altar of brett yang and the everything that he is⁠—eddy's actually enjoying himself.

it's altogether different from this viewpoint: seated in the midst of the orchestra, no longer the driving force of the music but an accompanying voice. eddy finds he doesn't mind, in the end; that's what really catches him off guard. he'd never thought he'd find the role of concertmaster far more interesting than that of the soloist, but here he is. life is infinitely strange like that.

after a while of proving himself a diligent work in progress in the attitude department, his fellow musicians begin to considerably warm up to him. the twins are among the first to welcome them into their fold, teaching him the japanese words for ice prince, which is totally uncalled for, by the way. cynthia winks at him from across the distance every time he accidentally locks eyes with her during the development. martin introduces him to the rest of the winds section and the shifty-eyed guy who plays the triangle.

but always, always: the sight of brett yang standing where eddy had once stood never fails to leave him a little breathless. but, you know, not in a strange way. anyone else would feel the same thing too, he thinks.

his friend takes to the soloist part like a duck to water; eddy had expected as much, but it had been nice to see his theory flourish right before his very eyes, where he can admire the fruit of his labor. just as he'd predicted, brett is a force to contend with on stage: all raw passion stirred up in a whirlwind of virtuosic talent. it would make eddy jealous if he hadn't already been so enthralled with the way the other man plays.

"wonderful, mister yang," the conductor crows after they finish the second movement, and brett offers a humbled smile in return. the orchestra shifts to continue on to the third movement, but there is enough of a lull in the air that eddy knows what is about to happen. 

brett turns his head to the right, eyes wandering in an absentminded way that could fool anyone but those who know him most, and glances at eddy. their gazes meet, and then the strangest expression descends on his face before he turns away again. 

so okay, there's another thing that eddy's noticed: brett looks to him every time he finishes playing a part without fail, and then turns away before the taller man can so much as blink back at him.

eddy doesn't really know why.

(the very thing itself causes a peculiar tug in his chest. he doesn't really know why either.) 

• • •

"so, i was wondering," brett begins, twirling a french fry around his fingers, "when you'll be free for dinner."

eddy's straw pauses halfway to his mouth in midair as he stares in confusion. in the hustle and bustle of the fast food lunchtime rush hour, he doesn't think he's heard that properly. "sorry—dinner? what dinner?" had there been an event he hadn't heard about? he doesn't think he's missed any reminders, so what could brett possibly mean by that?

like a dinner date?

eddy shoos the traitorous thought away so fast, he subtly recoils in real life. where on earth had that thing come from?

brett's looking at him like he's grown a third eye, and right, he probably deserves it for being overly dramatic. "like dinner dinner," the shorter man continues after a brief moment of hesitation, and eddy pushes down the urge to smack his own forehead. get ahold of yourself, man. "the one i owed you from the first time we met, remember? or should i just retract it because you don't seem to—"

"oh, no no no, you are not getting out of it that easily," eddy laughs, steals a french fry from brett's pile in retaliation. "i was promised dinner, and i'm getting dinner. your knight in shining armor deserves one, your majesty."

brett bursts into startled laughter at that, the hot afternoon sunshine catching in his eyes, and eddy thinks he's never seen a more luminous creature in his life. "yeah, yeah, i hear you. just let me know when we can go out—uh, together to eat?" brett trails off after that, looking away as his cheeks flush pink. must be the heat or something, eddy surmises. he should get his friend somewhere cold and indoors soon.

"yeah, i'll let you know, bro." he slurps down the last drop of his soda before nudging brett's arm. "we should get going, come on."

eddy slings an arm over brett's shoulder as they leave the premises: blissfully unaware of the effect he has on his friend, all too aware of his concern over his friend's wellbeing.

(something's got to give soon, pushing at the chinks in eddy's armor. he's still too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice the heart trembling in his chest.)

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