All I'm Asking

Vivace

   I slid on a long sleeved brown dress. The v-neck put my black turtleneck on display quite nicely as the skirt cascaded to the floor. I left my chestnut waves to twist and cascade down my back. I kept my makeup to a minimum. I actually look nice. I like wearing loose, baggy clothes a lot more than I thought I would. Not to mention they're way more comfortable.
   After twirling my balloon sleeves a few times, I slipped on my brown flats and checked the time. 11:55am. Brett should be here any minute. Ding. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand, flipping it over praying Brett wasn't cancelling our plans.

Eddy: "Heyy, have fun on your shopping date! ;)"

Y/N: "I know darn good and well that Brett didn't tell you it was a date. What's the winky face for?"

Eddy: "You're right. Have fun on your secret shopping date! ;)"

Y/N: "It's not a date."

Eddy: "Whatever you saaayyy..."

Y/N: "We all just met, Brett is eight years older than me, and I'm finishing uni.

Eddy: "None of that proves anything. Also, what's the problem with dating older guys?

Y/N: "There's not one. But both parties have to be okay with it. Why are we even having this discussion? This isn't a date!"

Eddy: "Whatever you say... But if it's not a date then why wasn't I invited?"

I stood in frozen in front of my floor length mirror, thumbs poised over my keyboard. If it's not a date, then why wasn't I invited? My mind was suddenly incapable of producing a response. I couldn't think of a single answer that made sense. Brett and Eddy did just about everything together. So why wasn't Eddy invited? What possible reason could Brett have had for leaving his lifelong best friend at home? Nothing about me is interesting. Not a single quality that I possessed justified his behavior. He's probably just trying to fix me. He sees how broken I am, how broken Nico left me. He just wants to try to pick up the pieces like everyone else. He just wants to be a hero. When he realizes that there's nothing he can do, that the damage done to me is irreversible? He'll abandon me. Just like everyone else.
The doorbell ripped me from the depths of my mind. But what seemed so exciting and exhilarating yesterday, seemed tainted now. I quickly scurried to the front door, not wanting to make Brett wait. Eddy was just teasing. There's no way. He was just joking around.
I took a deep breath as I opened the door. Before me stood Brett Yang. As I surveyed the man before me, I noticed that he was wearing a white crew neck with "MUSICIAN" printed across the chest in bright red. As my eyes made my way down his ensemble, I noted the black jeans and matching Vans. I felt my face burn as I realized that I was over dressed. But when I looked up, his cheeks were burning just as bright.
"Sorry," I looked down at my feet. "I seem to be overdressed again." I smoothed the front of my skirt nervously.
"No, no, no," Brett shook his head lightly. "You're not overdressed. If anything, I'm always underdressed."
I couldn't help but laugh at the mustard seed of truth in his words. "So, where's Eddy?" As soon as the words fell out of my mouth I regretted them.
Brett looked extremely surprised and hurt. "Eddy?" But what was worse was how his emotions immediately disappeared into something that looked impossibly similar to defeat? Disappointment? "Eddy's practicing. I didn't realize you wanted me to bring him. I can text him if—"
"No, that's okay!" I felt my heart rate skyrocket. Breathing became a little more difficult and my face had transformed into an unforgiving inferno.
"Are you sure? If you want Eddy to come with us—"
"No, no! I was just asking because I thought you guys did everything together." I suddenly second guessed how my last statement may have come across. "Not that I specifically don't want Eddy here. Eddy's cool! I like Eddy a lot as a friend I just... it's just... I'm not particularly emotionally attached to rather or not Eddy accompanies us on this particular venture."
"Okayyy..." My panicked speed talking earned me a small laugh from Brett. "So you don't mind if it's just us?" He slid his hands in his pockets, brows raised.
"Not at all! Just us is great!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! Wait... was great too strong of a word? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"No, I don't think great is too strong of a word. I think great is... great." Brett laughed at himself a little as I stepped into the hallway and closed the door.
"Okay, great.... Sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry about."
Didn't I? I'm sorry I'm letting you in. I'm sorry I've burdened you with even the smallest piece of my past. I'm sorry that I've given you a sliver of glass that will eventually cut you. I'm sorry that I've allowed myself to step into your life knowing full well that I'll only cause you pain. Hurting you is all I'm capable of. "I just... I feel like I'm awkward." Was what I let pass my lips as we walked down the hall.
"You're a musician. Of course you're awkward."
"I don't know. In my last program, there were some pretty cool musicians."
"They probably seemed cool to you because those were probably the only people you were exposed to most of the time. I bet if you took those people outside the practice room, they'd be awkward in their own ways."
"I don't know, I had this one friend that was actually really cool. He had really good social skills!"
"Wow, you really are awkward!" Brett laughed.
"Sorry." I felt my gaze fall again.
"Don't be. I kinda like it." My head snapped to stare at him, completely baffled by what I couldn't have just heard.
"Really?!"
"Yeah, I mean... it's kind of... refreshing, meeting someone that might just be a little more awkward than me." Brett was somehow just as red as I was.
"Oh... well... thanks. I really appreciate that." My words drug on putting my discomfort on full display.
"No problem."
Once we'd reached the entrance, Brett scurried ahead of me to open the door. He was making it extremely difficult for me to ignore how gentlemanly he is, how respectful he is, how sweet, thoughtful, and endearing he is. His wonderful personality made it even more seemingly impossible to ignore how absolutely adorable he is.
"Thank you." I nodded while blushing my way through the door as quickly as possible.
"No problem!" Brett joined me in the warm Singapore sun. "So... where do you wanna eat?"
"Honestly, I have no idea and quite frankly, I hate picking the restaurant."
"Really? Why?"
"I'm not a picky eater so I'm not usually in the mood for anything in particular. I'm usually down for anything. So I don't want to pick something and make everyone else feel like they have to go there. I hate the idea of other people going to a restaurant that they don't like because I unintentionally pressured them into it."
I was met by laughter completely void of judgement. "Don't worry, I know a place." Brett looked off somewhere across the street.
"Of course you do." My wide smile was full of endearment.
Brett smiled back at me with the a mixture of amusement and what I hoped was adoration. "Come on!" He led the way across the street to the coziest little café with surprising confidence.
   As we approached the welcoming little building, Brett once again held the door for me. He looked down as if he'd been caught sneaking a cookie before dinner.
   "Thanks." I ducked through the door despite not being in any danger of reaching the doorframe.
   "No problem." Brett followed closely behind me.
   As we approached the counter my heartbeat began picking up pace. My lungs didn't seem to be getting enough air. I felt the rising and falling of my chest growing for dramatic. My eyes hyper focused on a large menu I couldn't even read. Then my eyes darted around the room looking at all the smiling, laughing faces. Each enjoying the company of friends or family. My fingers discreetly clutched the sides of my dress. Then I felt a hand on my arm.
   "Y/N, are you okay?" Brett's voices seemed both very close to my ear, yet so very far away.
   My eyes darted to his, which were drowning with concern. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine!"
   "Y/N, you're not fine. Please tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, I promise. I'm just a nervous is all."
The smallest sliver of understanding snuck into his eyes. "Hey," Brett gently took me by the shoulders, "don't worry. Just tell me what you want and I'll get it, okay? I'll order everything while you pick a table? Do you wanna sit outside? There's less people out there."
I nodded.
"Okay, what do you want me to order for you?"
"I'm not sure. I don't really like breakfast sandwiches that much because they're so heavy."
"Okay, how about a pastry?"
My breathing was starting to become more even. "Mmm. They're too sweet first thing in the morning."
"Okay, I think I know what to get you."
"Okay."
"I'll order everything. Why don't you go pick a table outside?"
"Okay." I nodded meekly and started toward the door. Abruptly, I stopped and spun around to face Brett.
"What's up?" He raised his brows at me.
"Here, take this for my order." I lifted my clutch to retrieve cash for my breakfast. But I felt Brett's hands gently cover the mine as he gently pushed my clutch back down.
"Are you sure?" I looked into his kind brown eyes. Eyes full of empathy. Or sympathy.
"Yeah, it's on me."
I felt my insides grow colder. My blood steeled and the grip on my clutch grew a little tighter. My voice was quiet but firm.
"I can count change Brett."My eye contact no longer wavered.
Brett's eyes darted from mine for a split second. "What? Y/N I didn't mean... that's not why... that's not why I want to pay at all. I know you can count change." His voice was hushed. He seemed genuine. But then again, they always do.
"Why else would you offer to pay?" My eyes remained unwavering. I crossed my arms hating that I'd almost fallen for it. Hating that he was making me call him on this.
"Seriously?" Brett looked at me like I was missing something. But I wouldn't fall for this again.
"Don't 'seriously' me. Why else you want to pay other than feeling sorry for me?" My anger was boiling. Ready to seep into the café.
"Y/N I promise you, feeling sorry for you isn't even close to the reason I offered to pay. I know that you can count change. I offered to pay because I genuinely like spending time with you and I want to do something nice for you."
I want to believe you. I want to believe you so badly. I just don't know if I can. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry. I want to believe you. I really do. I just don't know if I can right now. All I know is that whatever this is... I'm ruining it." I felt a tear race down my cheek as I turned and walked across the café. I pushed open the door to the patio, escaping into the warm sun. I took a deep breath of fresh air. There's no way he'll ever want anything to do with me now. I've ruined any chance I had with him. If I ever had one. Which I didn't.
I sat down by the cast iron fence, hoping that Brett was kind enough to follow me and give me another chance. Hoping that I hadn't ruined our friendship. Our conversation on the bench gave me a small, dangerous sliver of hope. A sliver of hope that would no doubt run me straight through later.
With my chin resting on the palm of my hand, I watched cars go by, people strolling about, birds taking off. I had begun to worry that Brett decided to go home. Then I wandered into the depths of my own thoughts. Completely forgetting about the reality I currently sat in. I pondered what my life would be like if I ever made it. If I graduated. I started dreaming of all the places I'd love to go. Of all the-
Brett sat across from me, completely derailing my daydreams. He set before me a small white plate with some sort of danish on it and a matching coffee mug. An adorable foam heart sat atop my coffee. I stared, baffled, at the man before me.
"You're here..." was all I could think to say.
"Of course, I'm here." He sat before me, nothing my sadness in his eyes.
"But I- "
"You didn't ruin anything."
My gaze fell to the pastry before me.
"I don't know who that guy was that you mentioned the other day and I'm not going to ask. But clearly, he hurt you. I'm sorry if offering to pay for breakfast was too much. I was just really excited."
I interrupted him. "You were really excited? As in, you're no longer excited?" I felt my heart drop straight to my feet.
Brett's face burned a deep crimson. "Well, I mean, I'm still excited." He fumbled over his words while looking down at his own plate, eyebrows raised. "I'm just a little worried... that, you know.... That I... that I don't have a reason to be."
Brett stared down at his pastry while I gazed at him, hoping he was saying what I thought he was saying. But still unable to believe it. I sat, wanting so desperately to ask him if he meant what I thought he meant. But being too frozen by my own fear to form words. So I just sat there. Staring.
"Do I?" Brett looking up. His eyes begging for something I couldn't name.
"Do you what?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"Have a reason to be excited?"
Don't do it. You know how this ends. You've been here before. You'll only get hurt and you'll only hurt him. Nothing good can come from this.
"That depends." I fought back a small smile as his gaze fell back on his pastry. "Do I?"
"I you want one." His gaze grew intense. A new warmth enveloped me. All I could do is give a small nod.
"I'm always looking for reasons to be excited. Being excited is fun. Do you.... Want to be excited?"
"I would like to be...."
"Then you should. Be excited that is."
Brett held back a smile, as did I. "Okay, then I will be."
"Good. You should be."
"Are you?"
"I will be. I have used to have a bad habit of getting really excited far too quickly. Now it takes me a really long time to let myself get excited."
"I'll wait."
I tried to keep a hold on my smile. But I felt my cheek dimple as I held back. This was a dangerous game. But apparently, I was willing to play.