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XXXVII

It took Eddy longer than Brett anticipated to heat up the congee but Brett wasn’t one to complain, not right this moment at least, because it gave his scrambled brain some time to recollect itself and his wildly beating heart to calm down a bit (he didn’t ask for much, a couple beats a minute less would be fine or his fear of a cardiac arrest would soon be justified). 

Alright, Brett, get your shit together. All his symptoms were perfectly normal considering the nasty fever his body was fighting. The dry throat, his elevated pulse, how hot he felt or how disgustingly sweaty his hands were, they all fit the diagnosis Dr. Shaun or what his name had been had given him. Nothing to investigate or think about. Not at all! And that most of this stuff had started when Eddy had turned as red as the most impressive sunset Brett had ever seen over the coast of Brisbane and posed that last question before skipping town wasn’t out of the ordinary at all! Also giving in to the urge to pull up Eddy’s blanket and hide himself in a makeshift tent was in all aspects normal behavior as well!

It would have been nice if he’d decided to come out there before Eddy returned though.
“Brett?”
Brett yelped and jolted. As if he wasn’t acting like a total idiot already.
“Why are you hiding?”
“Uhm… cold”, Brett lied. 
“Oh, I warmed up our food. Maybe eating something will help?”
Turned out it was the only thing that calmed Brett down again in the end. That, and maybe the fact that the shade of Eddy’s face was once more its pleasant light-caramel or whatever colour this was which Brett had added to his favourite ones recently.

“Better?”, Eddy wanted to know after he’d wolfed down his portion. 
“Yeah. Thanks again, man! We should head to rehearsals soon, right?”
A frown appeared between Eddy’s brows while he put his bowl into the empty pot. “Let me check your temperature again first.”
“Nah!”, Brett exclaimed for the sake of his sanity, because just the thought of Eddy’s hand on him alone caused his stomach including the congee inside to do somersaults. “No need. I think I’ll manage. It’s not that high of a fever anymore, I reckon.”
“But you’re still warm, no? I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Brett.”
“It’s just the two of us. And Mr. Thames. And he’s already seen me at my worst this afternoon. I’ll just rest when I’m too tired. It’ll even get you more time to practice!”
Eddy eyed him suspiciously.
“You promise you’ll take a break when it’s too much?”
Brett nodded enthusiastically.
“Alright”, Eddy sighed, hand traveling through his dark hair, “then we actually do have to get ready. You need a clean shirt or something?”
Oh, a clean shirt?
“Like… from your wardrobe?”, Brett stuttered.
“Where else? There are not any down at the wash in the student dorms for sure.”
“Uhm, I don’t want to be any more of an inconvenience to you than I’ve already been.”
“And I’m telling you that you’re not, in any way.” Eddy walked over to his closet, opened it and drew out a simple white one. “Will this do? It’s probably a bit big. Sorry it's not ironed.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who irons his shirts?”, Brett lifted an eyebrow, sat up a bit more and… hesitated. Was he supposed to take his clothing off like, right now? In front of Eddy?
“You need a hand?”
Now this would definitely catapult his poor soul into an indefinite coma so he shook his head violently, pulled his black, sweaty shirt over it and put on the one Eddy handed him as fast as he could. 
“Thanks”, he mumbled as the scent of Eddy’s detergent enveloped him, making him dizzier than the fever. It was a bit big and loosely hung around his shoulders, but who the hell cared at this point?
“You wanna try and stand up? I’m telling ya if that doesn’t work, we’re not going anywhere.”
“Got it, mum.”

Luckily for Brett, he managed to remain fairly stable on his own two feet, so they grabbed their violins and left Eddy’s room, made their way down the building and out to the streets of Sydney. 
It was real good the sun was setting down, relieving the city from the brutal temperatures. Brett was walking at a very slow Adagio, but hey, he moved and he counted it as a win when they’d reached the gates of the con, even though he had to sit down by an alcove right after entering the building.
“Are you okay?”, Eddy asked, worry evident in his tone and gaze. 
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec.”

Climbing the stairs was something else and the first floor had never been this far, but in the end, they made it to Mr. Jones’ office. 
“Brett! How are you?”, the conductor exclaimed, as cheerful as ever.
“Fine, thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No, no, no! No need to apologize, son. We’re all just vulnerable humans, aren’t we? Now sit down, you two.”
There was a giant black leather couch taking up half the office just opposite an impressive number of diplomas on the wall. Brett and Eddy lowered themselves on it, cases on their laps.
“Now, Brett, are you sure you can rehearse tonight?”
Why the heck was everyone asking him this with a sinister voice and an intense stare? He held back a sigh and nodded. “Yup.”
“Alright. You can always take a break. I don’t want what happened this afternoon to repeat itself or I will have to call your mother.”
Brett flinched. “Please don’t!”
“Exactly! Eddy, I trust you’ll make sure to drag Brett off stage if you must as soon as he shows the tiniest sign of fatigue?”
“Don’t worry, Sir! I got this.”
Now there would be grounds to get real furious with how Mr. Jones and Eddy spoke about him like he was a little puppy, Mr. Jones some sort of noble man and Eddy his lackey. Given the fact that the unhappy events caused by him and him alone had forced a whole orchestra to change their rehearsal plans however, Brett couldn’t really blame them.
“Great! Now, Mr. Thames is still preparing some things for the workshops this evening, but you two can go to Recital Hall East where you’ll be rehearsing. He’ll join you as soon as he’s done. Now off you go!”

“Does he always talk like that?”, Brett wanted to know when they ploddingly trudged towards the east side of the conservatory, violin cases bobbing up and down with every step.
“When he feels especially dramatic, he kind of does that”, Eddy shrugged like they were conversing about the weather.
“And you just play along?”
“Got used to it, I guess. He IS the conductor of the Sydney con. When I joined, I figured it’s beneficial to be on good terms with him.”

Beneficial. There was that word again Brett somehow felt didn’t suit Eddy. He despised it. 
“Don’t do stuff just because it’s beneficial”, he found himself saying quietly. 
Was being with Brett also simply advantageous for Eddy? Was he only spending time and sharing his room so he could gain something from it? From him? He did say he wanted to try experiencing stuff outside the practice room after he’d gotten Rebecca Li’s tip. Did Eddy use his connection to Brett so he’d be invited out with others?

“What do you mean?”, Eddy asked, sounding genuinely clueless. 
“Never mind”, Brett mumbled, picked up the pace despite it making him crave for oxygen even more and left a puzzled Eddy behind.