Play!

LXXIX

Applause. There was applause! And cheers even!

Brett opened his eyes, pearls of sweat running down his temple while he lowered his bow and looked around. 

He made it! He made it through the piece without any major fuck up! Maybe there even had been nice, musical and lyrical moments among the few notes that weren’t quite in tune and the unclean shifts, Brett wasn’t sure. It was all a blur but listen! The applause was wearing on! The lights were still blinding him and the audience was still a dark sea of faceless people, now it was more a dream-like high however rather than the threatening darkness swallowing him up. He took a deep breath and soaked all of that in. Mr. Thames’ very content smile and firm handshake, the orchestra waving their bows or clapping their hands and most of all, Eddy beaming at him when he got up and enveloped Brett in a hug, which was definitely not in the script, not that Brett was complaining of course. 

The back slaps, praises and nods from his peers backstage prolonged his high.
“Dude! That was awesome!”, Nathan exclaimed with a wide grin as he shook Brett’s side so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had a concussion.
"Excellent! With that we'll definitely win!", Lauren chirped, nose higher than Brett had ever seen.
“Very, very well played, mate!”, Cole beamed. 
“Thanks guys!”, Brett panted, still out of breath, “Was it okay? I find it kinda hard to tell.”
One of the Sydney con cellists Brett didn’t know the name anymore said a very reassuring, “Of course! Think it was the freaking best first movement I’ve ever heard.”
“It was really, really good Brett”, Katie’s voice sounded from the side. Brett turned around. She appeared to be fine, a slight tension around her lips, but her smile reached her eyes and she nodded at him. He nodded back, glad she was able to talk to him after yesterday.

There was one person who’s feedback he wished to hear the most, but Eddy was in his dressing room and moving his fingers before it was his turn, Brett knew. They would see each other on stage again, spotlight on the taller this time while Brett would lead the orchestra, making sure in every phrase that Eddy could shine and soar. Third movement probably, right? The orchestral part wasn’t easy, but it went well this morning. They should be fine and most importantly, Brett was certain Eddy was going to deliver a jaw-dropping performance. And just as he wanted to go through the more challenging parts of the music in his mind, Mr. Thames hurried to him.
“Brett! Eddy is going to play the second movement.”
Brett stilled. “Second? Really?” The most unimpressive one? Rarely any fast parts, not much for Eddy to show his virtuosity and he wanted to play it in front of a high-ranking jury?
“Yes. Believe me, I was as surprised as you. Anyway, the stagehands are arranging the sheet music already, so you won’t have to worry about that.”
“O- okay”, Brett stuttered, unable to hide his bafflement. 
Mr. Thames placed a hand on Brett’s shoulder. “And you played exceptionally well, Brett! Your chances of getting the soloist spot are very high, though I probably shouldn’t tell you that. Well, see you on stage!”

The second movement, Brett pondered while trying to recalibrate his brain. Why second? The third movement would have been a much safer option, definitely bringing Eddy closer to his goal, no? However, now that Brett was thinking about it, the way Eddy had played the second movement had been tear jerking to say the least. Did he want to show his progress? Maybe, some of the jury had heard Eddy in previous competitions already, so it would be wise in a way to highlight a different side of him and get rid of the image of his robotic playing.
Whatever reason Eddy had, Brett was positive it was going to blow everyone's mind nonetheless.

Soon enough, the time to fill the stage had come. Brett went through the same door he had as a soloist forty-five minutes ago and stepped to the concertmaster’s seat under loud applause, the string section and some of the woodwinds following behind him. It was still hard to see the audience, but without the adrenaline and the nervousness ruining his eyesight even further than genetics and overuse of screens already had, he could finally see the hall being almost filled up and made out some faces, including Eddy’s mum in the second row subtly waving at him and the adjudicators’ stern expressions. The oboist gave his A to which Brett quickly tuned his before turning to his section. Then, Mr. Thames came up, took a bow in front of the audience and shook Brett’s hand and now, silence laid itself over the entire concert hall like a heavy blanket, anticipation almost tangible in the air.

Steps. Sure, paced but not too fast as Eddy Chen came to the front, raucous applause welcoming the soloist. Brett couldn’t help but beam like an idiot as he bowed and took Mr. Thames' hand. When he turned to Brett, the glint in his eyes prompted Brett to waggle his eyebrows while he gave Eddy’s hand a firm squeeze.

“Eddy Chen”, the adjudicator-guy announced, “Sydney Conservatorium. You are going to play the second movement of the Korngold violin concerto, correct?”
Eddy nodded with a winning smile. Brett would have been so biased if he’d have been one of the jury just by looking at his beautiful face. He shook his head as inconspicuously as he could.
“We are looking forward to hearing your performance. Good luck!”

Eddy positioned himself, closed his eyes and breathed in. He took his time. Certainly more than Brett had and Brett was starting to wonder if everything was alright when Eddy’s eyelids fluttered open just to shoot an intense gaze at Brett, filled with something he couldn’t decipher. Brett gulped, unable to move until Eddy turned away, nodded at Mr. Thames and positioned his violin. Brett scrambled to prop up his own instrument when Mr. Thames raised his baton, silently cursing Eddy for throwing him off seconds before they were supposed to play because his eyes… 

What on earth did this glance mean?