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"Blessings and curses work the same way. If you think about them hard enough, they will turn into something real."
Now he’s done it. It had to happen, sooner or later. Brett finally ticking off the list the “lost my violin” thing. The old one, which he has had since he was 12.
Not his fault!
They had it with them at the shooting location for a twoset video, in case they may need a spare one for some test shots. And a crew assistant accidentally packed it away together with the equipment that was moved by a transport company. That guy will be fired, no question. Except wasn’t employed in the first place.
They realize that the violin is missing only after coming home. Eddy feels responsible. The guy who messed up is his friend’s acquaintance.
The equipment was to be moved into a storage unit, located in the rural areas. It wasn’t marked “fragile”. Except the car broke down on the way and they had to send a truck after it. The current location of the truck was still TBA and they will be informed ASAP, as the moving company lady explained on the phone in a professionally apologetic voice.
“It was insured, right?” the panic in Eddy’s voice is barely hidden. His face is flushed.
“It was,” Brett replies calmly.
“I made sure to look over our personal belongings twice. Can’t believe I didn’t notice it was missing!” Eddy sounds exasperated.
“It’s ok. Stop fussing over it. We’ll just have to wait,” Brett reassures him.
Yep.
Except, he is not very good at waiting.
________________________________________________
It’s after midnight and Brett’s brain wouldn’t shut up, so he is scrolling through the photos of his old violin on his phone. He had to scroll 3000 photos back to find them, thank god for the fast scroll function. He could just google himself, sure, but he wanted to look at his own photos.
There is a picture from their first ever twoset live concert in Singapore. It wasn’t perfect, self-booked venue, doing all the problem-solving with equipment, sound production, admin themselves. A new half-baked segment, invented and added just a day before. They’re wearing casual outfits, goofing on stage with their violins, but there is so much energy and grit in their expressions. Determined to make it out there, to break out of the boxes the society wants to see them in.
A photo of a photo from the album at his parents house. The photo is blurry at the edges, the colors have faded. The date says 10’2006 and it features Eddy and himself after one of the violin competitions. Eddy annoyingly won that one, but the 1st place medal ended up on Brett’s neck. They are both wearing winners’ smiles, arms around each other’s shoulders. They look very tan and dorky, with bushy old-fashioned boyish haircuts, in cheap terribly fitting synthetic suits. They look so carefree.
A photo taken on the day they tested the Strads, all 7 of them laid out on the table. The Strads.. surely, it felt amazing playing them. A life-changing experience. The sweet sound they make, the projection, holding a piece of history in your hands. But in terms of fitting into his hand.. the Strads don’t even come close. His hand probably molded itself into his violin’s neck, to be honest. 17 years of close co-existence, give or take. They’ve been through a lot.
A photo from the day of the last orchestra concert at the Sydney Opera House before he called quits. He is smiling brightly posing at a popular tourist spot. Was he a tourist in Sydney the whole time? Felt like that. There is existential dread coming from the photo. Brett’s the only one who can notice it, he has lived it. Dread at having made a life-changing decision, giving up the orchestra position, jumping into the unknown with twoset. But also, a dare to brave the new adventure ahead.
A photo from Italy with the violin maker Mr Scrollavеzza himself. Brett, holding his violin out and smiling awkwardly beside the great master, surrounded by a collection of beautiful instruments. What a privilege to get the maker’s blessing! The memories come flowing in. Coming to Europe. Their first world tour. The emotional reunion between the violin maker and his instrument. This one hurts the most.
A series of photos that Olaf sent him while doing the maintenance once. Closeups of before / after covering up some scratches along the sides, replaced pegs, black paint added to the neck. The IPhone photo quality is good and he can see the wood grains on the violin body. So painfully familiar, Brett could probably draw them by memory. The warm honey-brown color of the wood. The violin body that sustained the sound so well, even when he played like crap. Goddamnit.
He turns on his side, trying to will the sleep to come.
Why did it have to happen? Just why?
There is some moisture on his pillowcase. He rubs at his face.
_______________________________________________
At 1.30 AM he goes to the kitchen to drink some water. Eddy is still sitting at the counter, scrolling through something on his laptop.
Brett greets him with “'Sup” and goes to get a glass.
“Want a cookie?” Eddy offers him an open package.
“Sure.”
Brett takes one, shoves the whole thing in his mouth and starts slowly chewing it, sitting down at the opposite side of the counter.
He thinks about putting on some music, but decides against it. They sit in silence for a while, only disturbed by the soft clicks of the keyboard. It’s weirdly soothing.
Next time he leaves his room at 4 AM. Eddy had already left.
And again at 5.30. The sky starts to get a lighter shade of purple gray. Looks like he’s pulling an all-nighter.
________________________________________________
There are dark shades under his eyes, his hair a disheveled mess, when he goes to put on coffee at 9 AM. He ended up not sleeping at all, just dozing a few times right before the alarm went off. Eddy isn’t up yet.
He feels like tiredness took some edge off his nerves. He goes on his phone to check his socials. Luckily, it’s Saturday and they don’t have any fixed plans for the day.
At 12.15 he finally gets a phone call. His heartbeat increases by a mile as he tries to sound coherent and civilized on the phone. The lady apologizes again for the inconvenience and tells him the address of the warehouse the cargo was identified at.
He goes to get his car keys immediately. Eddy tugs along for moral support.
________________________________________________
The look of the warehouse doesn’t instill much enthusiasm. The cold gray stone walls don’t look particularly welcoming. Brett’s knees shake a little as he enters the storage unit.
They look through the things and finally find the case.
There is a rip at the front which looks like something sharp has punctured it through.
“Ooh,” Eddy winces looking at Brett and pats his shoulder. “Sorry, dude.”
Brett’s expression is resigned. He doesn’t want to look closely.
He can’t.
If it’s dead, it’s dead. No regrets. Maybe some regrets? Fuck.
At least he could salvage the fragments. Maybe make something artsy out of them. Put it on the wall. Bury it? Anyway, he got his violin back and he will get his closure.
They both crunch beside the case to inspect it. Eddy tentatively reaches for the zipper, looking at Brett for permission. Brett nods.
When the lid is open, Eddy gently lifts the cover and once it’s pulled off… there are wood chips and rosin dust all over the case. The bridge has collapsed and there is a noticeable scratch on the far right side of the violin body that luthier would need to look at. But it doesn’t look like a crack. The bow has split at the tip and the hair has come off, probably bye-bye to the bow. But, from the looks of it, no more serious damage.
“Aww.. It doesn’t look too bad, bro..” Eddy trails off, glancing at Brett, looking unsure.
“Let me just…” to Eddy’s surprise, Brett reaches for the zip pocket at the front of the case, directly under the rip.
And pulls out the medal. The one from 16 years ago.
“What is that?” Eddy opens his mouth. “Did you carry your trophies with you?” His tone turns from soft to teasing.
“Not mine,” Brett shows him the date sawn on the medal’s ribbon, 10’2006.
It takes Eddy a moment.
“What? No waaay,” Eddy looks closely and covers his mouth with his hand, once he recognizes it, his eyes opening wide. “No way!”
“Not so useless now, is it?” Brett chuckles. “Whew! Kept it safe,” Brett’s voice is a bit shaky. Is it relief?
Brett watches Eddy’s reaction, handing him the medal that may or may not have saved his violin. Something unreadable in his eyes.
“Uhh, I don’t know what to say,” Eddy says, taking the medal to look more closely and turning away. His hand has stuck to his mouth permanently. “That was lucky?” he adds quietly.
“Very lucky,” Brett affirms, voice more steady now. All of it was. His heartbeat hasn’t calmed down since they got the call at noon. He will need some time to process this.
“Woah.” Eddy is holding the old round piece of metal closer to his face. It’s a bit deformed and the color has peeled around the edges, revealing the rust. Not real gold, not even good gold plaiting. Maybe not even metal.
“Can’t believe you still have it. Did you have it with you the whole time?” Eddy asks.
“I did. Kept it in my case.”
“In Sydney too?”
“Yeah.”
“And on tour?”
“Yep.”
“Dude.” Eddy’s nose is red, eyes squinted. Must be a sudden allergy attack.
Brett smiles, watching Eddy, his expression open. Eddy covers his face with both hands.
________________________________________________
That day in 2006, when Eddy won the competition, they exchanged the medals. It felt like the right thing to do. Both strived to be the best. Both hated losing. Brett looked visibly disappointed about getting the 2nd place, no usual bravado on his face.
“The judging was subjective,” Eddy pointed out when the results were announced.
“It’s fine. Let’s go, they’re going to interview us.”
“They should have awarded two 1st place medals. Our performances were equal”, he added at the ceremony, shaking Brett’s hand.
“Um,” Brett agreed.
“It’s useless anyway,” Eddy flicked the medal with his index finger, afterwards. It didn’t look valuable even back then. “I still can’t do staccato properly. I’ll be fucked in the next round.”
“That’s true.”
Brett wasn’t the kind of guy to take this personally. Competitions were bound to have winners and losers, that’s how they work. But Eddy would hate for this to sour their friendship. It was too important. So his 14-year-old brain came up with this solution: he put his medal on Brett’s neck. Brett gave him his silver medal in exchange. That’s when the photo was taken.
They went to the gaming center after.
Eddy didn’t pass the next round of competition and he never asked the medal back.
________________________________________________
Once they have returned home, Eddy gently puts the violin case on the sofa to inspect it again. It hasn’t sunk in that the violin is mostly ok. Damn it. He likes this violin too.
Brett goes to the kitchen to put on some tea.
“Dude, there is a lot of stuff in this front pocket!” Eddy exclaims.
“What?”
“You messed with me.”
“Why do you have all this?” Eddy complains, taking out some receipts, plane passes, flyers, coins out of the case pocket. “Maybe there would be less damage if it was empty.”
“Don’t know what you mean,” Brett’s voice is coming from the living room as he puts on Rachmaninoff.