Find Me My Flower Road

I

The desire that burnt like the scorching heat of the sun,

Is now reduced to ambers, to ashes, to none.

The blood in my veins that seared with fervor,

Is now chilling like the Himalayan winds.

Eddy Chen, a graduate from Curtis Institute of Music, was struggling to find a gig that could pay him enough for his next month's rent. Not that he was not talented, or he was terrible at music. He had graduated as the top of his class (that too from Curtis!) and was passionate about classical music. However, since a month, he felt a void at the bottom of his heart. He couldn't think straight, couldn't play without his head wandering off to other topics. It had all started 3 months ago, when he had fainted during the break from his orchestra rehearsals. He was completely burnt out from practicing a little too hard, holding his violin gave him a feeling that was unknown to him before. He needed a break, and he knew it too. However, he was too stubborn to actually do so. 

Constant sleepless nights he had spent as a student, were finally taking a toll on him. He suffered from insomnia now, couldn't sleep despite wanting to. Playing the violin wasn't doing him any better. Every time he picked his violin up, he felt an implicit pressure on himself. Why though, he couldn't figure out. He went to therapy hoping it would help, but it wasn't helping. Despite his disappointment, he was forced to quit the orchestra for his own sake.

It had been a month now since he had quit the orchestra, and his pockets were slowly emptying out. The one month break however had resulted in his improved condition. He was feeling better, refreshed, and his insomnia, despite being there, was slowly getting better. To give his mood a boost of serotonin, he was on his way to CHICHA San Chen, of course to get some bubble tea. In his opinion, the only thing that could boost his mood besides violin playing was BBT. And since violin hadn't been doing him much good lately, bubble tea was the only remaining option.

He had just reached his destination when the trademark marimba ringtone of his old badgered iPhone rang out loud, astonishing him. He looked at the contact name, and his eyes immediately widened. It was the call of the man whom he had called a week ago, because he had somehow found out through his friends that the man needed a violinist. And there was no one more than Eddy who needed the gig. This was the deciding call. Either he will get that money and pay the bills, or he will not get the money and be doomed. Biting his lip, he picked up the call.

"I hope reaching at 5 p.m. at the venue will be okay for you?"

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