Let it be known to the world that Eddy was right all along.
Everything started going downhill after dinner.
After putting their dinner plates in the sink, Eddy turns to find Brett with his head in his hands, breathing just a tad bit louder than usual.
"'Sup bro? You dehydrated?" Eddy looks over him, features tightening in concern.
"I dunno, Eddy. I don't feel so good." Brett replies, his voice smaller than usual.
Eddy can clearly see something's wrong. He walks over next to him, putting a hand on his back. Platonic, platonic, platonic.
Heck, why was he even worrying about that now, when there's more pressing matters in front of him? Get a grip, Eddy.
"Do you need medicine? Do you think you need to head to the hospital?"
Brett tries to reply, but it's hard to make out what he's trying to say; his voice was smaller now.
Eddy straightens up. "We're taking you to the hospital." Stay calm, stay calm. "Can you stand?"
He doesn't wait for an answer; he loops one of his arms around his shoulder and supports him all the way to the car.
During the drive, Eddy has one hand on the wheel, the other on Brett's thigh; he's too worried right now to care about the fact that he's in physical contact with Brett Yang. The only thing on his mind is getting Brett to the hospital and finding out what's wrong.
"Stay strong, bro. We're almost there."
"M'kay..."
♡ ♡ ♡
Last week when they were about to film, Brett did lie about still being able to film, despite not feeling well. He didn't think it would escalate into something this bad, though.
And then Eddy, being the person he knew to know him inside out, saw through him immediately and went with him to get help.
The way he ever so gently helped him in and out of the car.
The way he rested his hand on his thigh, the touch alone communicating, it's going to be okay. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.
Fast forward to when Brett's laying on the hospital bed. Eddy's gripping his hand tightly, his features contorted in tension and worry. The feeling of his hand in his shouldn't be feeling nice, but it does...? Anyway.
Brett looks into Eddy's eyes. "Don't let go of my hand through this. Please."
"Never." Eddy tightens his grip on Brett's hand. "We've been through everything else together. This is no different, bro. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
And, well, what does he say to that?
The next couple days is just him getting tested, getting recommended to specialists. And you guessed it, Eddy's by his side through it all.
That's the most important thing of all, isn't it? He's staying by his side through this whole thing. He's staying as the sun to his sunflower.
Where would he be without Eddy Chen?
♡ ♡ ♡
But for now he lays bedridden beneath his blankets for who knows how long. He can't have coffee or bubble tea, and picking up his violin is an excruciating task all of a sudden. And he has to take medication. Ack.
Yesterday, Eddy filmed a short announcement about them taking a break. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks under the weight of his guilt, for dragging Eddy down into taking a break, too.
Occasionally when Brett does find that he's able to speak clearly, it's always the same conversation between him and Eddy.
"You didn't have to take a break with me," he'd say.
"It's Twoset Violin, not Oneset Violin. Like I've told you a million times before, I can't function without you." Eddy would reply, then he'd continue playing a whole bedside concert of Brett's favourite pieces. "Besides, you made me realize, too, that I needed a break."
Now he just stares up at Eddy in quiet wonder, as he finishes playing the Tchaikovsky violin concerto and moves on to their Prelude.
He's been playing Prelude more frequently now; he's that proud of it, huh?
He's switching between the parts to keep up the melody. All the while, his eyes are on Brett in a quiet way that makes his chest feel funny.
Wait, what?
Brett tilts his head just so until they make eye contact. He lets his gaze linger for a few moments, and Eddy loses his place in the piece, turning away from Brett shyly. It takes all of the energy Brett has to fight back a smile.
The sunset beyond his window fades as Eddy finishes revising the first movement for his Sibelius 3 mil, the final note of the movement ringing out with the confidence that Brett's always admired in Eddy's playing.
Brett smiles at him, and Eddy smiles back. He lets his eyes wander (dangerously, mind) as Eddy packs his violin and scores away.
"Earth to Brett Yang?"
Brett looks up. Eddy's staring at him with a perplexed look on his face. His violin case is slung over his back and he's holding his music stand in a hand.
And then he realizes, oh no, oh no no no—
He's just been caught absentmindedly staring at his best friend's lips, hasn't he?
What the actual hell? How? He didn't—or did he?
He tries not to let any of his inner panic splay out on his face. "Mhm?"
A silence. "Never mind." Eddy rushes out of the room to put his stuff away before coming back with a glass of water. He hands it to Brett before saying, "don't forget." He nods at the medication on Brett's nightstand.
Brett takes his medicine as they both sit in silence. And surprisingly enough, this one's not an awkward one. This is a comforting moment.
Eddy waits until Brett finishes, then reaches for Brett's phone on his nightstand. "May I?" Brett nods. Eddy takes his phone and opens YouTube. "So, what's it gonna be?"
"What?"
"Unfortunately I can't play for you all night. I gotta sleep. There anything you want to listen to so you can sleep?" Eddy asks.
Trust Eddy to know that music was the best thing to help him sleep. Brett thinks for a moment. "Mmm... Strauss. Don Juan."
Eddy's eyebrows fly up as he laughs. "Dude, what?"
Brett grins weakly. "Nah, kidding." He pauses for another moment. "Barber violin concerto."
Eddy nods. A second later, the calming opening solo of the first movement fills the air.
"Night, Brett." He sets Brett's phone back down on his nightstand and sets off towards the door.
"Eddy." His voice is barely audible beneath the music, but Eddy can pretty much recognize his voice anywhere, anytime, at any volume. He turns.
"Can you stay? Just for a bit?"
Eddy doesn't hesitate; he walks right back towards him and sits at the foot of his bed. They sit there in silence, both of them letting the music transport them to another world.
Brett observes as Eddy fingers on his wrist along to the music. He remembers Eddy playing this on stage with their uni orchestra years ago. He remembers sitting in the audience, listening to his playing with admiration, and that's exactly why whenever someone asks him about his role model, the first person that comes to mind is Eddy Chen.
A minute and fifty seconds in, and the beautiful orchestral tutti seems to clear the skies.
Something about the melody brings back the past, a whirlwind of memories, in all of which they're side by side. He hears them laughing together, everything they've been through together.
Brett's gaze moves up to Eddy's face, and he seems to be thinking along the same lines; his eyes are misty. Eddy shifts his gaze, and their eyes meet and linger before Eddy looks away, seemingly lost in thought. The funny feeling he experienced earlier seems to be digging a burrow deep into his chest.
Was this just caused by his sickness or—?
His thoughts seem to teleport him into the future, to the calming second movement. He tries to bite back a laugh during the oboe solo, but a small snigger slips out.
Eddy knows exactly what he's on about. "Shut up," he says, but he's laughing too.
Brett waits until the right second to slap the top of the nightstand, imitating Eddy's infamous shoulder rest drop.
Eddy reels over, shoulders shaking in laughter so hard that it's silent for a few seconds, before Eddy gasps due to lack of air, and they can't help but crack up.
The second movement ends like that, and Eddy switches to a playlist of calming Debussy to play overnight. The tinkling of piano keys forms the melody of The Girl With the Flaxen Hair.
He yawns and looks over Brett once. "I really gotta sleep. Night, Brett."
"Night."
Brett assumes that Eddy's about to say something more, but he smiles softly before turning to leave the room.
He thinks about what Ray told him as he watches Eddy close the door. Are you joking? He looks at you like you're his world. Which you are.
And then his mind wanders to what his mother told him when he was a child. The Earth is everyone's world. Someday you'll meet someone who's your world and your world only.
It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots.
♡ ♡ ♡
Brett wakes up once in the middle of the night.
A warm weight is hovering just above him, clasping one of his hands in both of his. He clamps his eyes shut again so he isn't caught awake. A melody of choked words slashes through the softer melody of Clair de Lune.
"...Life is so bleak without you by my side. I feel like I'm slowly losing it." His voice is breaking. "I can't breathe, I can't function without you."
He feels a soft press of a forehead against his chest before feeling tiny drops of water seep into his shirt.
"Stay strong for us, Brett. Please." The last words fade hoarsely into more tears. "Please. I know it's not too life-threatening, but I need you to be strong. This break is driving me insane without you."
More tears and sniffing. He feels a weight on his cheek, courtesy of a warm hand. He feels hot breath just above his mouth, getting closer every second. It lingers there in anticipation, completely still, until a teardrop falls from the sky onto Brett's cheek and it suddenly withdraws, whispers something Brett can't quite catch, and tiptoe-runs out the door. Afraid of Brett opening his eyes while he's there so close, Brett assumes.
Seeing him let out his pain like that while he thinks no one's aware of him there breaks Brett's heart further. He doesn't deserve to suffer alone, in silence, in secret.
He raises a hand to his face to brush away the small tear off his cheek to find a million more of his own with it.
And just like that, he's awake for the rest of the night, with nothing but silent tears, but also with the newborn will to stay strong.
For Eddy he'll stay strong.
For Eddy. Anything for Eddy.