Chapter Text
Brett enters what feels like a state of free fall and then *zing* - the E string snaps with a high-pitched ringing noise.
This is how you overcome the fear of heights: you keep falling. Continuous exposure.
Has he forgotten?
With a start he wakes up to a flight attendant tapping on his shoulder and asking him to fasten the seatbelt. Eddy is groggily attempting to do the same, as he can see over the divider separating their seats in business class. Eddy has sleep lines all across his face, the origin of which is a total mystery as he has been sleeping the usual way – with his face up, mouth open.
Eddy is wearing his black fuzzy fleece track jacket he only really wears when he is ill, which always makes him look like a sad deflated plushie that you want to puff up. Except Brett does not approach him in that sort of state, of course not, he is too vigilant about germs, if epidemic taught him anything, it would be that. He wasn’t sick as they were boarding the plane though, as far as Brett noticed. Maybe it’s Eddy’s fluffy armor that he needs for comfort during a long flight, Brisbane – Petersburg, 6 hours give or take.
They have flown to Petersburg to do some filming.
Well, Eddy is the only one being filmed this time. And he has been grumpy about it for two weeks already. Maybe grumpy is not the right word. Here is how this all came about.
“Em.. I think I’ll take a step back from the videos for a bit,” Brett said on one fine morning, when they were in the kitchen sipping their coffee.
He was pretty sure that those were the words that had come out of his mouth, in a calm and casual tone. Yet, the reaction they were met with could easily be as if he suddenly grew green antennae out of his forehead.
“That defeats our channel’s whole purpose. If there aren’t two of us on the screen, what’s the point?” Eddy said, after his first shock dissipated a little, energetically stirring the leftover coffee in his cup with a spoon, trying to avoid clinking noises and failing miserably.
And, like, it’s a weak argument. They both made individual videos before, it’s not that big of a deal.
“Ok, ok, don’t be mad. It’s just for a short while,” Brett scratched at his face. Surely, he wasn’t asking too much. Was he?
“Did you plan out the trip already?” Brett asked to move the conversation into a practical lane.
“More or less.”
“Did you tell Ollie the exact dates and details of the trip, because he might have plans...”
“Ollie is not coming,” Eddy said.
“Oh. So it’s just us two? Who will hold the camera, then?”
“…”
“Who?”
“We can use a tripod or just handhold it...” Eddy trailed off.
They both knew that video filmed on location required a better production quality that that. Especially if they were going to fly overseas to film it.
“It’s decided then. I’ll be the cameraman. I can do the background voice, too. So the viewers don’t get sick of looking at your dumb face,” Brett concluded.
“Oi!”
“I still think we should both be in the shot,” Eddy tried again, setting aside the well-stirred, but now cold coffee.
“Not this time. Can we do it like this one time and see what happens?” Brett repeated, knowing full well his request won’t be denied.
“If you’re really set on this, I can’t force you to...” Clearly, Eddy already conceded. As expected.
“But you will try?” Brett hummed, turning the cup upside down to get the last sip.
“I won’t. They have strong winds there though, so don’t complain if…” Eddy collected both of their cups and stood up to put them in the sink.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. If there is a Mary Poppins situation, there isn’t much I can do. But in all other scenarios, you will have the solo part on screen,” Brett summed it up.
And that was that.
While taxi is taking them to the hotel, Brett’s mind is still in a sort of daze.
He gets only a glimpse of the European-looking streets in the city center from the car window, before it’s too dark to make out details. The grey, quickly darkening twilight sky here feels like Mordor itself is descending upon them. Maybe it’s not Petersburg’s fault, maybe he is just tired and delirious from the plane. He looks out for nazguls around the corner, just in case.
Eddy has grown out his hair, Brett notices under a street light when are they passing a well-lit square. Brown has melted into black, long side bangs curling at the ends. While he himself has been getting regular haircuts, the usual neat sideburns and volume on top. When have they gone out of sync? He feels irrational grief over overlooking such a miniscule thing.
Brett has always wondered how it would go, had they met as adults. As fully grown human beings.
Would they click with each other or not? It’s a compelling mental exercise. Except, there is no way to know. They have been so close since they were so young.
What would he do different, had he started anew? Could he reach - as an adult and as a casual acquaintance? Would he get the frankness you share with a stranger out of Eddy? Does he want it? Does he not want it?
They have been too similar from the start, too close that they might have avoided the mid-range closeness. It eluded them. Sometimes, he wants to trash that. To ruin it. To start again. From a different save point. To go against the normal in their everyday routines.
There were not many things between them unsaid. Unfelt.
Untested?
Perhaps, it’s because they were professionally deformed by the way musicians communicate. They don’t talk much. They cue, listen and play along.
The mattress in his hotel room is a bit too hard, the sheets itchy. He leaves the nightlight on for the whole duration of the night, which probably doesn’t contribute to him getting a restful sleep.