Chapter Text
Brett, who had partied until 3am and who ended the night by barfing on a stranger, was greatly unamused when awakened by the persistent rings of his phone.
“You need to take your niece to violin lessons.”
“What? Mum, no.”
“Yes, everyone else is busy. Go now, or I'll come to your dorm and kungpao your chicken—”
Brett didn’t love his niece, who was spoilt and obnoxious and needed to be taken down a notch or two, in his opinion. Also her violin playing sucked. She had none of his talent, and also no work ethic.
“Your lessons are a waste of money,” he said, as Annie climbed into his passenger seat.
“And you look like shit.”
“You shouldn’t know these words. You’re like five.”
“I’m seven, Bretty. Eyes on the road, please.”
Annie seemed more subdued than usual though. Worried, one might even say. Downright trembling as they approached the door of the practice room.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Edward Chen’s a fucking ogre, is all.”
This guy—Edward Chen—looked vaguely familiar—a skinny Asian kid around Brett’s age. He wore an ill-fitting suit jacket, presumably a failed attempt to look like an authoritative adult, and had long dyed hair that was both outdated and screamed weeaboo.
“Hi, I’m Brett, her uncle, and uh, do I just sit here and wait, or? And do I need to take notes? I teach a little myself, you know, and I think notes are stupid, to be honest. So, if you don’t need me, I can go get some coffee.”
Edward gave him a very unfriendly glare, for no particular reason, then ignored him completely as he tore into Annie. Brett sank into a chair and watched, mesmerized. He had never seen anyone go so hard at a kid (and Annie, in particular)—just absolutely demolishing her without a shred of emotion. Vibrato, intonation, fingering, you name it. Basically, everything Brett had ever wanted to say about her playing, but never had the guts to, because his mother/brother would eviscerate him.
When Brett went to pay Eddy at the end, he had stars in his eyes. “Duuude. Bro. That was awesome.”
Edward viewed him with visible confusion. “Isn’t she your niece?”
“Yeah, but she’s fucking annoying—”
“Bretty, let’s go,” screamed Annie. Brett could tell she was trying very hard to remain composed, but was secretly ready to scratch this Edward’s face off.
“Ok, sorry, bye Edward,” he said, dragging her away before any bodily injuries occurred.
As he opened his car door, it struck him that, in fact, the one he barfed on last night and who had to help him back to his room may have been this Edward.