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It was October, 8 pm, right after dinner, when Brett suddenly felt something happen to him...

Brett and Eddy had had fried rice for dinner after a full day of work, filming the newest Twoset episode, practicing a decent amount of hours for once and planning the newest Twoset Apparrel drop with the Apparel team. Eddy had cooked, for which Brett had been really thankful.

And just as he wanted to clean the table and take their plates to the kitchen sink to wash, Brett suddenly felt dizzy. His vision started to black out, his breathing went shallow and accelerated and finally, his knees gave in.

Unable to hold on to something since his hands were occupied with carrying dishes, he just let himself fall on his backside with a small, surprised yelp, the dirty ikea plates sliding off his hand and landing on the floor next to him with a loud shatter sound, matching the rising ringing in his ears.

Luckily, Eddy was there, first not sure what was happening, but rushing to Brett's side as soon as he saw Brett half sitting half lying on the floor next to their dining table, his face as white as a sheet.

"Brett! Mate, what happened?", Eddy knelt down next to Brett with worried and wild eyes, grabbed his arm and tried to stabilize his very unstable looking friend.

And boy did Brett feel unstable. He hadn't felt this weak for a very long time and couldn't even remember something like that ever happening to him. He tried to regulate his breathing and keep down the rising panic, which wouldn't be a great company to his nausea and foggy brain. Brett blinked, shaked his head a little, hoping it would clear up his vision, which seemed to be filled with black spots and very shiny stars at the same time. It didn't help one bit.

"I", Brett started with a weak and shaky voice, "I don't know... I was feeling well just before..."

"Ok, you know what? Lie down first" Eddy softly helped Brett lying down on the floor, pushing those dirty dishes away to make some space for him.
"Better?", he asked.

Brett closed his eyes for a moment, put one hand on his forehead and the other on his still quickly rising and falling belly. The dizzyness in his head didn't really wear off though. It still felt like the world was turning upside down in a really fucked up way.

"I don't know Eddy..."

"Are you dehydrated? Did you drink enough?", Eddy asked while simutaneously getting up and filling a glass of water, with which he returned to Brett's side as soon as he finished his sentence. He helped Brett sitting up a bit and pressed the glass into Brett's hand for him to drink, hoping that might help.

Brett carefully took a sip, but he felt so nauseous that he feared he'd throw up on the spot if he'd drink too much, so he quickly pushed the glass back into Eddy's hand and lay down again, still shakily taking in as much oxygen as he could.

What in God's name was that?? He really couldn't put a finger on why this was happening to him. Sure, he didn't have a great immune system to begin with, which had resulted in several sickness periods during his childhood. But who wasn't sick as a kid? He might have fought some more severe fevers or infections than others, but his body was fine in general and the last tour was, thanks to that whole pandemic situation, quite a while ago, so he couldn't possibly still be tired from that.

He had had situations of the near fainting kind before, when he for example had been on low blood sugar because of lack of time for eating properly during stressful uni exam periods or violin competitions. Or when stage fright got the better of him and he nearly hyperventilated before he had to play his Tschaik at the con. He was always mentally strong enough to gain control over those situations though, calming himself down, doing breathing exercises or eating two bananas and eventually facing whatever he had to face.

It was 8 pm, right after dinner...Where stories live. Discover now