The building was absolutely massive and Eddy felt intimidated by the officiousness of it all. He'd been to AYO before but he hadn't had to audition so formally then. He was ever so glad that he had his best friend by his side. They signed in at the front desk, where a serious looking youngish lady with her hair in a bun wished them luck and gave them a key to a warm-up room.
¨What was it like, auditioning last year?¨ he asked a minute later, glancing to his left.
They'd talked about it before, of course. But he wanted to hear it again, he wanted to be as prepared as he could be.
¨They were fine,¨ Brett replied as they walked along the stark corridors, looking for the right number. ¨They were kind enough, didn't really say very much. Certainly didn't have anything bad to say or anything. They just sat and wrote stuff down.¨
Eddy nodded. Phew, he hoped he could keep it together today. He was sure that, if he played as well as he could in his practice room, he'd be first. But that was a big ¨if¨, he knew.¨
¨You okay?¨ Brett said.
¨Yeah. Just... I just wish I could show other people what I can do in the practice room.¨
¨You know what?¨ Brett said suddenly, slowing down and turning to him, ¨Why don't you just pretend we're busking?¨
They'd busked pretty much every Saturday for months now, and it's true, he could play fine then.
¨That's not a bad idea.¨ Eddy mused out loud. ¨But I don't busk by myself, though.¨
¨Then just close your eyes for a moment, and pretend I'm stood next to you, playing second. With your ears I'm sure you can basically hear the part anyway. Oh, look, there's number 80.¨
Brett stuck the key in the door of the warm-up room and they walked in.
¨That's a really good idea, Brett.¨ Eddy said. ¨I'm going to try that.¨
Brett looked at him, his face happy. ¨You know what, I think I'll try it too.¨
¨Cool. Right, shall we practice both ways? I'll play first first and then we swap?¨
An hour later they were nervously pacing outside of the audition room. Eddy stared at the closed double doors as he put his violin to his chin and played a little part of the first exerpt, pizzicato of course. He wasn't sure if they'd be able to hear him inside if he played out.
He could hear the violin being played in there anyway, and it was being played well. Shit.
¨Hey!¨ Brett said suddenly, and he put his hand on Eddy's shoulder.
¨You'll be fine, bro. You'll be fine! You're super talented and you've worked hard. They'll hear that. Don't worry.¨
Eddy looked at him gratefully and smiled. ¨You too, bro.¨
The door opened and a blonde girl who was probably slightly older than them walked out, holding her violin. The door was closed behind her again by some invisible hand.
¨Hi! Did it go okay?¨ Eddy said pleasantly.
¨Hmmm, I don't know. I tried, though?¨ she said, and he wasn't sure she looked very pleased.
¨It sounded great from here!¨
She smiled at him. ¨Thanks. Well, I hope to see you guys at the camp, hey?¨
They both nodded.
Eddy sighed deeply as the girl vanished down the corridor. He knew he was up next, but it was taking forever and the door remained resolutely closed. What could they possibly be doing in there for so long? Were they talking about all the things the girl had done wrong? Or just discussing the weather, or what lunch they wanted or something?
Then the door opened. ¨Eddy Chen?¨ A woman asked, looking at them with a bland smile.
¨That's me!¨ Eddy said, way too enthusiastically. He shot a quick glance to Brett and walked in, holding his violin in his left hand so he could shake someone's hand if he had to.
¨Good morning, Eddy.¨ some middle aged guy with a bald patch said. He was sat in the middle of the little group that was sat in a row behind a couple of tables. There were forms and pens on the tables, and also quite a few empty coffee cups. Eddy guessed that the bald guy was the head of the committee or something. There were four other men and women there, all looking at him with pleasant smiles. He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself.
¨Good morning sir.¨ he said, and the breathiness of his tone betrayed his nerves.
¨You can start with the first exerpt.¨ the man said then with a small nod of his head.
Okay. Here he went. This was his moment. His heart was going at a million miles an hour, and he would have rushed to begin and nervously put his bow to his violin without breathing... but suddenly he remembered what Brett had said.
Just pretend that we're busking.
So he lowered his hand again, closed his eyes for a moment and pictured himself in their regular spot in the shopping centre, Brett to his left, ready to play second to his first.
He smiled as he opened his eyes, put his bow to his violin for real now, and played.