Play!

LXXVIII

This whole “Dealing with What’s Right in Front of You” was being thrown out the window as soon as Brett saw Eddy backstage, dressed in an elegant, dark blue suit.
Well, technically and quite literally, he WAS trying to deal with “What Was Right in Front of Him”, emphasis on “trying” however. 

“H… hi”, he stuttered while attempting not to drool like a degenerate. 
Eddy’s confident, yet kind of shy smile. God, it was everything!
“Hi. You look good.”
Another one of those sentences which made Brett’s heart flutter happily, adding fuel to the hope Cole had helped lighting and was simmering ever since they’d left the hotel, however still carefully kept in check.
“You too”, Brett uttered the biggest understatement of the year. 
“Ready?”
“I hope so. Nothing I can do now.”
Eddy sniggered. “True. You got your violin?”
Brett groaned as he put his case on the floor to check. “Don’t make me panic this close to the competition! Is that your evil plan to get rid of your rival after all? If yes, you're doing a fine job!”
“Just making sure you’re good to go!”, Eddy laughed and plucked his own strings, “We don’t want your nightmare to come true, do we? Do we have time to warm up?”
“I think so”, Brett answered and just then, Mr. Jones came running towards them from the hallway with his signature grey hair fluttering behind him. 
“Eddy! Brett! Wonderful! How are you feeling? You’re ready?”
Both boys nodded.
“Good, good. You have half an hour to warm up in separate dressing rooms and then, we will start with you, Brett, since you’re from the guest orchestra, if you will.”
Brett gulped while the familiar nervousness washed over him. “Okay.”
“You got this!”, Eddy whispered next to him, his hand touching the back of Brett’s briefly, calming some of his nerves. 
“The audience is already allowed in, but don’t you let that distract you. They’re here to support you both and listen to the result of your hard work.”
Mr. Jones smiled encouragingly, his palms patting both Brett’s and Eddy’s shoulders. 
“You both sound amazing. Trust in your abilities and hours of practice! I can’t wait to hear your performances!”
“Thank you, Robert”, Eddy said. Brett nodded again, not trusting his voice to work. The old conductor gave them a quick wave and vanished as fast as he’d appeared. 

“Okay! Warm-up!”, Brett huffed, threw his case over his left shoulder and together with Eddy, they headed towards their assigned dressing rooms. Brett would have loved to share one with Eddy, but there was probably some stupid rule forbidding it.
“Well, that’s me, I guess”, Eddy pointed at a door with a piece of paper stuck on it showing his name. It was at the opposite side of Brett’s. “See you later?”
Brett didn’t know what got into him, if it was the slight tension he saw on Eddy’s face or his own nervousness. He leaped forward and threw his arms around Eddy, the case on his back dangling critically from side to side. 
“See you later, concertmaster!”
He could feel Eddy still for a moment before his long arms enveloped Brett in turn, pulling him even closer. Brett closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in as much as possible of Eddy’s wonderful smell, a mixture of a subtle, musky perfume, Eddy’s laundry detergent and his own, kind of sweet and complex scent.
“I… See you later, soloist!”

His fingers were warm, the notes he was going to play clear in his head as he was standing in the dark, backstage, the only light coming from the stage he was about to step on. Brett heard the orchestra tune through his own quick heartbeat booming in his ear, listened to Eddy giving his A to the strings. He checked his own strings carefully, making sure that he was really holding his violin and then, the moment came! A sign from the backstage person standing by the door and Brett was out as applause arose, the bright stage lights blinding him, blurring his senses further. His legs moved on autopilot, carrying him next to the conductor’s stand where they froze. Mr. Thames stretched out his hand, reminding Brett that he had to shake it and turn to Eddy to do the same. Eddy smiled at him, holding his palm longer than necessary and emitting warmth and comfort, slowing Brett’s heart rate much to Brett’s relief.

Funny, how his supposed rival was the one helping him through this.

“Brett Yang, Queensland Conservatorium. Are you ready?”, a faceless man Brett could only make out the silhouette of, sitting in a separate section in the middle of the audience among four others boomed through the hall.
He nodded automatically. 
“We’re looking forward to hearing you play the first movement of the Korngold violin concerto. Good luck.”
Another round of applause. Brett drew his bow over the strings again, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he nodded at Mr. Thames, who raised his baton along with Brett’s bow and before he knew it, his first deep A rang through the concert hall.