Brett was in a bad mood since he woke up. Today was the day for the dreaded trip. He tried to prepare himself mentally for this for the last two weeks. Ever since his mother called and told him to come home. His father was ill and she couldn't cope with running the family store and looking after him as well. He understood his duty to his family, but he also didn't want to give up the meager existence he carved for himself here in Singapore.
He was a violinist, and when he got the opportunity to leave South Africa and join the Singapore Symphony Orchestra, he jumped at it. Over the last four years Singapore has become home. He found a weekend job at a luthier to supplement his income and although not wealthy by any means, he had a comfortable life.
Similar to what he had growing up in South Africa. He never wanted for anything but they didn't live an extravagant lifestyle either. He grew up in a small street-facing house with his parents and brother. Walking distance to school and to the shopping district. Thinking back he can't even remember how many different colors they painted their house over the years. Yellow, blue, pink, green. One year they even painted it purple. It was a community tradition.
He's thankful he took up a room in a shared apartment. Moving out is easier. It's not his furniture, appliances or lease to worry about. He just needed to pack up his own belongings and leave. And he didn't have too much of that either. He prepared a few boxes a week ago that contained most of his stuff. Concert attire, his violin, clothes, the few books and ornaments he acquired. He dropped it off for shipping ahead of his flight. Now he has only a small suitcase and a backpack. He handed his key to the neighbor as all his flatmates left for work already, and made his way downstairs to catch a taxi to the airport.
His mother didn't say what was wrong with his dad. Just that she needs help around because it will take time for him to get better. A stroke? A heart attack? Strange how his mind always goes to the worst thing possible. If it was that bad surely she would have said. He can't think of any occasion where his dad was sick growing up. He was always the strong one looking after everyone.
Brett eyed the taxi meter as they got near the airport and took money out of his wallet to pay. The taxi driver tried to make some small talk on the way which Brett soon squashed by giving only a nod or a hmmmm. Most of the trip from then on was in silence. As the taxi pulled into the drop off zone, he handed over the money, mumbled a quick "Thanks", and stepped onto the pavement.
YOU ARE READING
Away
FanfictionTwoSet Violin Fanfic where one takes a flight to forget and the other to remember. So far only fluff 🥺 You can listen to the book on my YouTube channel as well. Link: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaeUJeBhSSMPERJxz4QSJbCQJYdSTn_VG
