CLVI

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John smiled, walked in and closed the door. 
"So, how have you been?"
"I... I'm good, real good. I love it at the con, Sasha's great."
He had forgotten how kind John's eyes were, and as he saw them now he was  instantly transported back, to a different era, sitting in John's garden in Perth. How would he ever be able to tell him how much he had helped him then?
"Good. And Brett?"
Eddy could see the slight hesitation, and he got it. I mean, how was John to know if they were still together? He couldn't know what bond they had, could he?
"He's good, too. His playing's awesome. We're... well, technically we're, you know... housemates."
He knew that John would be able to interpret the look on his face just fine, and as on cue he laughed. 
"That's awesome. Anyway, I need to run. See you in there, break a leg!"

Eddy stared at the closed door for a millisecond, and then he was legging it out of the room and into Brett's. 
"Do you fucking well know who's on the committee?"
Brett looked around in surprise as he burst through the door, but the look on Brett's face tempered Eddy's enthusiasm in one fell swoop. He was deathly pale, gaunt almost, and his forehead was a little sweaty. 
"Jesus, Brett. You okay?"
"Yeah, fine." he said curtly in his 'back off, Eddy tone'. "Who?"
Eddy closed the door and walked over. Tone or no tone, he wasn't about to back off. 
"John Davids. He just came to say hi. Brett, what's going on?"
Brett seemed to take a deep breath, and shrugged. 
"Don't worry about it, just go warm up. Cool that John is here though."
Eddy stilled for a long moment. Words were bubbling up in him, but he swallowed them down. He knew Brett too well, he knew how he made decisions and stuck to them. He could push it, but he knew Brett didn't want him to. So he nodded and retreated to the door. 
"I'm just next door, okay?" he said as he opened it and walked back to his own room. 

At least worrying about how Brett was was helping him with his own nerves. He tuned quickly and started warming up, and it wasn't going completely horribly. 
Look, what did he have to lose anyway? He was only a first year student. They weren't expecting him to be the best. 
Was John, though? What were his expectations? 
Eddy shivered quietly and doubled down on his practice. 

He was just about to pack up and check on Brett again when the door to the practice room opened so hard that the door hit the wall, and a disheveled looking Brett burst through it. 
"Eddy." was all he said, and Eddy was already moving, his violin already down, his hands already closing the door. Brett was breathing fast, way too fast, and he looked like he was about to puke. Eddy put both hands on his shoulders and held tight. 
"Talk to me, Bretty."
Brett shook his head hard, from side to side, once, twice, as if he were shaking something off. 
"Bretty. Are you sick? Do we need to go to the toilet?"
Brett's head moved again and he took a shuddering breath. 
"Fuck, Eddy, I don't want to burden you with this." he hissed then.
"You're never a burden." 
Brett glanced at the door, his eyes full of panic. 
"Fucking hell, I'm such an idiot. Why am I letting this get to me?"
Eddy nodded quietly. 
"Is this because of last year?"
"Maybe. I mean, I get nervous, but not like this."
"Okay." Eddy said in a soft tone, a soothing one. "Tell me about that."

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