Million Pieces

those nights (i'll be your rabbit in the headlight)

Brett is staring at him again.

They had just finished their consecutive filming for today, and Eddy stood up to stop the recording when he felt a familiar gaze on his back for the third time. He keeps moving, eyes never leaving the camera display as it shows Brett putting his face on his hand, watching him with that deadpan stare. He knows what that stare and posture mean: Brett is contemplating something, definitely related to Eddy, yet Eddy doesn't know what.

Eddy stops when he's in reaching distance of the camera. His hand presses one button to stop the recording and takes the camera out of its stand, while his brain rewinds everything he's done that deserves that kind of stare. Nothing unusual, he thinks. He taps the screen to show their last shooting, another roasting video, at the top left among countless others they had done for this week. Just brainstorming, practice, lunch, filming. He plays the video, watching himself glancing and smiling at Brett as the other delivers their usual greeting—

A realization snaps into him.

Eddy pauses. Anxiety starts crawling up his throat.

After all, how do you explain to your best friend—who, most likely, already knows—that you've been hiding a crush on them for almost ten years?

Well, 'crush' might not be the right term here. More like unrequited love. Or yearning that gets exponentially deeper and deeper the more you spend time with him—and Eddy has spent time with Brett a lot that it's probably an endless chasm by now and Eddy has no chance to get out. He has accepted that fate a long time ago.

What Eddy's worried about is he doesn't know what reaction he will get from Brett. At the very least, he knows his best friend won't get mad about it, but it's definitely going to be awkward as hell. And embarrassing.

But Eddy will take the possibility of getting teased about it by Brett, while pretending he has moved on from his feelings, if it spares their friendship, rather than the higher chance that there will be an unfixed crack in their friendship. What if the awkwardness keeps going on, permeating into every part of their dynamics? He can vision how it will affect their videos, then TwoSet will deteriorate, and they will be forced to leave it, and then they will grow further and further apart until they are practically strangers—

"Eddy? Why are you still standing there?"

Snapping out of his trance, Eddy swivels to see Brett crouching on one corner with most of their filming equipment already tidied and packed up. Eddy didn't even hear Brett moving around the room.

As if reading Eddy's thought, Brett laughs. "Were you zoning out while watching ourselves roasting another bad violin acting?" He gets up, pats Eddy's shoulder and takes the camera from his hand, watching themselves cackling like a maniac in it. "Is it that boring?"

"No." Eddy ruffles his own hair. "Okay, I don't know. I only watched the first minute or so, but I'm sure the fans will love it."

Brett nods. "Of course. They have been asking for us to review this film for a while." Pausing the video, he looks at Eddy, his eyes soften in a concerned gaze. "Man, you look very tired. Did you get enough sleep yesterday?"

"Yes—maybe." Eddy shakes his head. He did sleep enough yesterday. He's just tired from his spiraling mind, but Brett doesn't need to know that.

After putting the camera at the small desk near them, Brett pats his shoulder then pauses. Only for a split second, but Eddy is so tuned to his ticks that he knows it's odd and unintentional. And Brett is biting the inside of his cheek, which means he's nervous.

Oh my god. He's going to bring it up.

"Can't it wait?" Eddy asks at the same time Brett says, "Want to get some bubble tea?"