Fantasia

XII

Before Brett could voice any comment to Eddy's proposition, Eddy's whole surrounding, including his friend from old times, blended into a blurry mix of dark red and black colours until everything vanished.

With a loud gasp Eddy shot up from his damp sheets.
"Brett?", he called into the empty, dark bedroom. Nothing. Of course.
"Brett?", Eddy tried again, despite knowing that he would receive no answer.
"Shit!", he mumbled and burrowed his head in his sweaty hands. He felt his stomach churn uncomfortably and took a few deep breaths to prevent his dinner from making an unappatizing return while the name he'd yelled into the emptiness of his bedroom before was echoing through his mind.

Brett had been there! In his dream. On the other side of the mirror. And Eddy had not only been able to finally fucking see something, he'd even went through the damn glass and had discovered the source of that beautiful melody he'd heard two nights before.
No wonder the violin playing had felt familiar to Eddy. He'd listened to Brett play for years, had witnessed his development as he grew up, changed techniques and most of all, practiced every day. How odd, that the place Eddy'd see his former best friend again would be in his own dream...

When Eddy was sure he could keep the contents of his stomach down, he picked up his phone with trembling hands and started punching letters into the device, quickly forming a text describing the happenings in his dream before the memory of it would slip through his fingers like sand.
It had felt so real. Everything that had happened in there. Eddy swore he could still feel Brett's warmth in his hand, the one with which he'd grabbed Brett's right arm and probably wouldn't have let go if Brett wouldn't have yanked it away himself. He still heard Brett's voice in his ears, the soft, strong and clear timbre of it, filling up their surrounding, reverberating through the hollow wideness of the hall where they'd met. Still felt Brett's curious, big eyes on him, watching him.

Was Brett part of the answer Eddy was looking for? Or THE anwer to his yearning even? And if that would be the case, then why? Why would Eddy be longing for an old friend he'd lost touch with?

Okay, he had kinda missed Brett throughout the years. Maybe more than he cared to admit. But they had their own seperate lives now, which hadn't been entangled since... well... since...

Eddy shook his head. There had to be more to all this! He added a section with all those questions swirling around in his head and closed the note app, before he let himself fall down on his bed. Maybe a run tomorrow would give him some clearance, but for that he definitely had to get some sleep now.

Beads of sweat ran down Eddy's temple and tickled his nose as he made use of the temperature wise more bearable early morning hours of Singapore. His lungs were burning, but it didn't keep Eddy from taking it up a notch and increase his speed. The burning in his calves was a clear indicator of the two days he'd skipped training prior to yesterday. Yeah, better push himself a bit more, make up for the lost rounds he'd left out.

The cascading cool water in the shower couldn't stop the slight tremble in Eddy's legs. Maybe he'd overdone it, but it had not had the desired effect of showing Eddy any sort of answers. During the bus ride to the office he thought long and hard about what could have caused the changes in his dream. Was there a trigger in the real world that made his mind wander off in a different direction during the night?

The most obvious he could think of was the violin. His violin. After all, it had been violin playing that had caused the first big turn in his dream. And hadn't there been more changes after he'd looked at his instrument? Playing it had even resulted in Eddy stepping through the mirror and finding Brett!
A Brett who didn't remember who the hell Eddy was, apparently.
Eddy felt a by now familiar sting, which he quickly tried to shake off. This was stupid. He wasn't a teenager anymore, depending on some kind of friendship to feel happy, or loved.

Even if that friendship had once meant the world to him.

Also, it didn't mean the real Brett in the real world wouldn't know Eddy anymore. Eddy was certain, that the not-dream Brett Yang was happily living a great life somewhere. Maybe he was still back in Australia...

Eddy brushed a hand through his freshly washed hair while he watched the scenery outside the cramped bus change. He was pretty sure, that playing the violin could be a key to whatever he was looking for, so he could just keep doing that for a bit and see, how far he'd come in his nightly visions. This seemed simple enough, wouldn't it have been for the bittersweet memories and some (deep) regrets Eddy'd pushed to the back of his consciousness over the years. As for Brett... should he try and contact him in the real world? Would the other know something Eddy didn't, even though dream-Brett had said he never woke up?

But would real Brett want that after what had happened about a decade ago?