distraction: you

interlude - cynthia

they may think her an airhead, but cynthia sees things they don't because apparently, brett yang and eddy chen are idiots on a whole new level, like two peas in a pod of a whole lotta stupid. with both their individual and combined intellect, she'd assumed better of them, that they'd figure out that they're practically soulmates in every aspect of the term, but for some godforsaken reason, they somehow—haven't realized yet.

heaven save her from the obliviousness of men.

well, she had tried her best to rein herself in at first, to be quite honest. in the early days of their acquaintance, she had made a promise to herself that she would not in any way meddle with their friendship. come what may: if the boys are really meant to be, then they'd just fall into that mindset on their own and naturally get together.

but good god, the tension is killing her, and the boys don't seem to even know about their own feelings yet.

listen here: cynthia's had to sit through a grand total of three weeks of mutual, soft eyeballing—except never at the same time, always one looking away before the other turns to look at them—and sad puppy faces whenever the other is conversing with anyone else other than them, which is just pathetic and sad, to be honest. why don't they just tell each other that they'd rather be talking to each other than cynthia and the other apparently lesser mortals in the orchestra? she hadn't thought it possible for a person to be that dense, but somehow by some weird fluke of nature, she'd ended up meeting two of them.

even now, brett seems just about ready to fling himself into the sun just to figure out whatever's going on inside eddy's head and make things right, and wow, that's just—really interesting.

the bottom line is: brett and eddy are her friends. she adores them both, she wants them to be happy, and the happiest place they could find themselves in is beside each other. whatever issues they both have can be worked out, she's pretty damn sure. she has faith, and god, that sounds way too cheesy, but it's true.

so really, cynthia takes great pleasure in watching the play of brett's emotions flickering across his face at her question. talk about a deer caught in headlights: brett's somehow doing his best impersonation of the thing, complete with gaping mouth and eyes wide as saucers behind the veneer of his glasses.

"you like him, don't you?"

yeah. take that, naysayers; cynthia knows what's up.