Chapter Text
Eddy’s only half awake when he stumbles into his new homeroom on the first day of the school year. He’s not late, not exactly, but he’s the last to arrive and earns himself an irritated look from Mister Jansen.
“Well well well,” Jansen greets in a tone that might earn him a chuckle from the popular kids if they were paying attention. “If it isn’t Eddy Chen, here in my classroom again. Let’s see where you’re headed.” He glances down at his chart, and his eyes widen like this is a big deal. Eddy’s more certain than ever that he’s trying to attract attention—but all the other kids are engaged in conversations, catching up over the long break.
“Ah,” he continues, pointing at a seat with his pen. “You’re at the back table with Brett Yang. He’s Year Eleven, so just one ahead of you, and one of the orchestra boys, so you’ll have things in common.”
Eddy blinks at him, confused. “But I’m not-”
“Or you can just sit in awkward silence, it’s entirely up to you. Off you go now, shoo shoo.”
With a sigh, Eddy trudges towards the back, only to stumble over his feet as he catches sight of Brett Yang seated in a golden pool of morning sunlight. It highlights his hair and lends radiance to his flawless skin, and when he looks up his soft brown eyes are startlingly clear.
Eddy blushes, embarrassed to be caught staring with his mouth ajar. “Hi,” he says softly as he slips into the open chair.
“Hi,” Brett returns, his voice as warm as the sunbeams surrounding them.
Later, when he looks back, it’s a moment Eddy will remember for the rest of his life.
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He doesn’t see Alex in person until the third day of the school year, and by then he’s getting anxious and antsy. They’ve exchanged flirty text messages and Alex always seems eager to meet, but so far he’s changed plans four times and with each cancellation, Eddy’s spirits flag a bit further.
But the clouds lift when Alex appears in the auxiliary music room at the agreed-upon time, breathtakingly attractive with his flashing eyes, curly dark hair, and chiseled features.
“Hey,” Alex says, stepping forward with a faint smile. “Sorry about earlier.”
A dopey grin spreads across his face. “It’s alright. I know you’re busy.”
Alex traces a hand down Eddy’s cheek. “I’ve missed your face.”
Eddy grimaces. “I think I’m better in lower light. Or better yet, in the dark.”
“No.” Alex’s smile intensifies, even if it grows no warmer. “You’re gorgeous. Did you have a good holiday break?”
Eddy gives a slight shrug. “It was okay, I guess? I mean my mom’s tough to be around these days and my friends were mostly out of town so I had to spend a lot of time alone, but at least my sister is home again so-”
Alex cut him off with a kiss that’s slightly more forceful than Eddy prefers. His words are swallowed by Alex’s mouth, the slide of his tongue stealing away his breath. “You’re so cute, I love your little stories,” he says when he comes up for air. Then he's back with more kisses, each more assertive than the one before and continuing until the bell rings.
Alex pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks remarkably unaffected, whereas Eddy is certain his lips are swollen, his cheeks are flushed, and his clothing disheveled.
“Get going,” Alex says, gesturing towards the door. “You don’t want to start the school year by being late to maths.”
“I guess not,” Eddy agrees reluctantly, adjusting his attire and raking a hand through his hair. Alex leads the way to the door but before opening it, he pauses to address Eddy over his shoulder.
“You won’t tell anyone about us, hey?”
Eddy sighs. “I won’t. You know I won’t.”
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Suddenly Eddy sees Brett everywhere.
He noticed him before, of course. There aren’t many Asian students at Callistemon High, so of course he caught Eddy’s eye. He’s also charismatic and attractive, often at the center of a group that includes the school’s popular rich kids. Eddy never dreamed of approaching him, much less talking to him, but he’d often watched from the sidelines.
Now he sees him on a daily basis, and suddenly Brett’s smiles are directed his way. It’s almost more than he can handle, but Brett doesn’t seem to mind that the range of their communication is limited.
“Hi,” Eddy says, ducking his head.
“Hi,” Brett says in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
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Then comes the afternoon when he’s walking down the hall and the two of them nearly collide.
“Hey, watch it,” he begins before realizing that the person he just avoided crashing into is Brett, and the reason Brett isn’t watching his step is that he’s doing his maths homework.
Eddy can’t help but laugh. “Dude, that's due in like three minutes.”
Brett grins, still frantically scrawling out answers. “I work well under pressure.”
Eddy steps slightly in front of him, gesturing for others to stay out of their path. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Brett keeps his eyes on his paper as he jots barely legible answers. “So do you, right?”
“Not so much. I like getting things done early so I don’t have to worry about them.” He holds the door to their classroom open, a surge of warmth blooming in his chest over how much Brett seems to trust him.
Brett looks up once they’re inside the quiet room. “I mean real pressure. Like the pressure of violin competitions.”
Eddy’s stomach clenches. “I guess. I don’t do those anymore, though.” He turns his gaze to the final set of equations on Brett’s paper. “Want help with those?”
Brett makes a face. “Nah, I’ll figure it out, I just need another minute.” His grimace deepens. “I hate maths. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually struggling so much that I’m gonna start maths tutoring this week. My parents insist. It’s gonna suck trying to fit that in with practice hours, rehearsals, and everything else.”
He presses the paper against the classroom wall while he finishes, then turns to Eddy with a smile. “Hey! Done, and just in time, too.” He nods as the teacher bustles into the room carrying a cup of coffee and a stack of notebooks, and as he moves towards the desk to hand in the assignment the tip of his pen brushes the back of Eddy’s hand.
“You marked me,” Eddy notes in mock outrage, holding up his arm to display the blue semi-circle marring his skin. “And you do your calculations in pen? Who does their maths in pen?”
“Me,” Brett says proudly. He turns from the desk back to Eddy and surprises him by taking his hand by the wrist. “I’m brave like that. Here, I’ll fix.” He adds two little dots above the curve, transforming the mark into a smiley face.
Eddy has to fight to keep a matching smile off his lips through the rest of the class.
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Somehow, they fall into the habit of meeting up and walking to maths class together. Brett usually has his homework completed so he’s not a danger to himself or others and Eddy gets to enjoy his bright chatter. He talks like their conversations are a continuation of a singular discussion, a ribbon stretching out between them that grows longer and brighter as he adds more topics. Eddy hears about the pieces he’s learning, the competitions he’s preparing for, the solo he’ll be playing as concertmaster for the orchestra’s upcoming concert, his favorite composers and so on.
What he doesn’t talk about is anything personal. Eddy still hasn’t heard him mention his friends, family, or romantic interests, things that most high schoolers talk about with ease. It’s curious, but Eddy doesn’t mind. Brett simply isn’t like anyone else he’s met at school, his own friends included.
He’s listening to Brett’s thoughts on monothematic instrumental works when Eddy spots Alex walking directly towards them. Eddy can’t help it, he smiles and says hello, happy to see him after another week of minimal contact.
Alex stops dead in his tracks, his face frozen. “What?”
There isn’t a trace of recognition in his eyes.
The smile drops from Eddy’s face as his heart skips several beats. “Just… hi,” he manages, feeling like he’s done something wrong.
Alex stares at him coldly. “I don’t know you. Why are you talking to me?” he asks before his attention shifts to Brett. They warm marginally as he forces a faint smile into place. “How are ya, mate?”
Brett gives a strained smile, his eyes skipping back and forth between them. “Fine,” he says, his voice flat.
Alex gives a curt nod before continuing on his way, and Eddy forces himself to keep his eyes fixed ahead.
“You’re friends with Alex?” Eddy asks once certain he’s out of earshot.
There’s a slight pause before Brett replies. “Yeah. He’s in my year, so we hang out some. Events, parties, sometimes lunch.”
Eddy shifts a glance towards him. “You go to a lot of parties?”
Brett gives a smile that’s unusually tentative. “As many as I can manage with my schedule. I like to have fun.”
“Oh.”
Brett’s smile falters, his eyes questioning as they scan Eddy’s face, but then a group of his mates swarms in around them, carrying Brett away in their wake.
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Eddy usually eats lunch with his friends Jordon and Zach, sitting outside to enjoy the sun on days when it isn’t too hot. Eddy slurps down noodles while listening to Zach lament the fact that their fourth friend, Sophie, has been gone for the past week attending a funeral thousands of miles away.
“It’s not that I resent her great-grandmother for dying or anything,” he says between bites of his sandwich. “But this is a long time for her to miss, and she’s gonna be behind on everything when she returns.”
“You can offer tutoring services,” Jordon says, not looking up from whatever he’s writing on staff paper. “She’s smart, missing a week of school is nothing for her.”
Zach ignores him in favor of heaving a sigh.
“She’ll be back before you know it,” Eddy offers sympathetically. He’s about to add something more, maybe something that would actually make his friend feel better, when a roar of laughter erupts from a table a few meters away. He’s not surprised to see that it’s Brett and his friends, nor is he shocked to find Brett at the center of the action, trading jibes with one of them while playfully swatting at another.
Zach follows his gaze. “Brett Yang, huh? How’s it going, sitting next to him in your homeroom?”
Eddy can’t seem to drag his eyes away. “Um, good? He’s really nice. Way nicer than I ever imagined.”
Zach turns to face him, his eyes narrowing. “Really? His friends sure aren’t. I can’t believe you’ve been sat next to him. Seems sort of insensitive of Mister Jansen.”
Eddy lets the noodles slide off his chopsticks. “Mister Jansen isn’t exactly Mister Sensitive.”
Zach sucks down a third of his juice bottle before returning to their conversation. “So what are you going to talk about? Oh, I have an idea, how about the fact that you’re actually a way better violinist than he is and he’s damn lucky that-”
Eddy cuts in with a wince. “We’ve been talking about all kinds of stuff. He’s really easy to talk to. It’s like I said, he’s nice.”
Zach and Jordon don’t even bother trying to hide the look they exchange.
“Oh dear,” Jordon says, returning his attention to his papers. “Eddy’s got dreamy eyes again.”
Zach sighs. “This always ends well.”
Eddy glances back and forth between them, hurt. “You could at least pretend to be my supportive friends.”
They aww at him in unison, and Zach hooks an arm around his shoulders.
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“Hey mum,” he calls as he steps inside their tiny apartment that evening. “Are you okay with me signing up for maths tutoring?”