distraction: you

chapter one

the day is hot, the sun is burning, and eddy doesn't have time for distractions.

see here—he's a violinist. distractions, and especially those that keep him from practicing and living and breathing his craft, are ultimately worthless. unnecessary. he doesn't have time for them at all if he wants to become a soloist, and by god, he will become one. just needs some patience and hard work, is all.

perhaps it's providence or fate, or maybe just plain old coincidence, but as it turns out, things are about to take a sharp turn—

but eddy doesn't know that.

• • •

there is a man. that in itself isn't strange, but the fact that he is sprawled over the edge of a bus stop bench is. he's cradling his forehead, glasses precariously perched on the bridge of his nose, and his jeans are slowly collecting dust particles from the dust clouds the cars are stirring up along the road.

eddy tells himself it's only because he's a good person and he can't stand seeing anyone in distress that he stops walking, but then that would be a lie, in hindsight.

"oh, hey, are you okay?" the question comes tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop it. the man doesn't respond, still hunched over on the ground, and before eddy knows what's happening, his eyes begin trailing the length of the other's spine, the wide set of his shoulders, the—

god, what the hell was that? he snaps himself back to the present, quietly taking a step forward in the stranger's direction. at the sound of eddy's foot scuffing against the sidewalk, the man looks up, mumbles an i'm fine that is definitely not convincing.

if eddy were a weaker man, he would've thought the kitten-weak statement to be, well, cute. but he isn't weak, no siree, no thoughts like that here.

"right, okay," eddy mutters under his breath. it's not really within his right to demand the truth from the man, and again, distractions are not necessary, maybe he should just go and—

the man shifts, his leg smacking against the violin case half-hidden under the bench, and eddy is startled. he hadn't noticed the shiny black container until now, so focused as he was on the man's distress.

so does that mean he is a violinist too?

well, obviously, eddy thinks, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. he is so off his game today, it's not even funny. must be the heat wave or something.

"you look pale—hmmh, is it alright if i took care of you for a little while?" as soon as the words take flight into the air, eddy realizes just how strange that sounds, and he quickly backtracks. "just until you feel better."

a small hum is the stranger's response. eddy tilts his head and continues, "is that a yes?"

the man finally nods, and the anxious knot in eddy's chest loosens. "oh thank god," he can't help but declare, because the man looks seconds away from passing out, and if he actually does, it'll be on eddy's head.

in one smooth motion, and without really thinking about it, eddy has both hands under the man's arms, dragging him up to properly sit on the bench. the stranger looks equal parts confused and amused at the action, and yes, okay, that was a bit sudden. eddy has the urge to blush out of nowhere, but he fights it off.

"sorry, uh," he fumbles, settles for a nervous laugh, "you looked like you needed the support." this is the part where you introduce yourself, mate. "my name's eddy, what's yours?"

the man huffs a breath, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a mild smile that should in no way send shivers down eddy's spine, but it does. something is wrong with him, and it probably isn't because of the heat wave.

"brett. brett yang."