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Eddy Chen

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It was yet another beautiful day outside of the window. A chilly, windy one, not usually considered beautiful, but for Eddy Chen, a good, law-obeying Australian citizen, it sure did look like a magnificent weather. He didn't have any excuse to go out and feel the wind on his skin. He could only longingly stare on the beauty, the freedom, through the glass. When was the last time he was out there? (He was just being dramatic, but the feeling of imprisonment was real.)

The quarantine sucked.

It could've been way worse if he didn't have the silver play button hanging on the wall right next to his trophies from competitions, but still. His musical career wasn't the most productive this season, in fact, it was over before it even started. But at least he had a different income, which many more musicians lacked. He was a full time youtuber now. Yeah. Youtuber. His parents must be thrilled.

This was one of the lazy days. He didn't feel like doing anything at all, even though he could've shot another video or two, maybe called Ray and facetimed some charades together or roasted few more movies.

It was a lazy day.

He spent the better part of it flat on his couch, going through comments under his latest videos. (It still technically counted as a work, right. He was analysing the demand. It was important to know what his fans want.)

He was procrastinating hard.

Eddy dived deeper and deeper into the comments and gradually moved from the videos of the last week to the videos from the last month. Sometimes he found an intelligent concept, sometimes just utter bullshit and he made mental points to hold down the viola jokes a little, it really was getting out of hand.

He scrolled his way down to one of his more successful videos, a collaboration with Ziyu He - the Paganini god.

Comments: (1311)

The sinnamon roll: Ziyu: If it's difficult, just smile. Me, a wind player: *panics*

Niccolo Paganini: Geez, when I composed this I never intended to play it THAT FAST

IntONAtioN: ziyu is such a sweetheart, you think prodigies are people with big egos, but he's such a nice calm spirit :)

ViolaTed: Now I really wanna see Brett Yang doing this!

Brett Yang?

Eddy knew who Brett Yang was. How could he not, they went to the same school. Even had a math tutoring together many years ago. How could he not know the rising star of classical music. The young soloist who absolutely skyrocketed after a marvellous interpretation of Tchaik.

Those people were normally falling from their heights face-first to the ground, but Eddy had a feeling this one was different. He was of course known for his poker face, but all the emotions, all the passion went into his music. He made the pieces alive and it was a breath-taking experience. Not a one hit wonder, a role model to thousands of people and somehow even the douchebags coughing out their left lungs in a first row on a concert were silent on his.

Eddy had strong feelings about Brett Yang.

Maybe you could even say he had a very tiny, perhaps even infinitesimal musician crush on him.

But it never once occurred to him he could approach the man and invite him to co-star something as stupid as Ling Ling workout.

He opened the string of comments connected to the main one.

LLWannabeeee: A Petition To Get Brett Yang To Do The Ling Ling Workout! That would be inTeResTIng!

It had more than thousand likes.

FlattyFlutte: but consider this: tchaikovsky violin concerto and lindsey stirling. In this essay i will-

That really was something to consider.

Eddy went on and found at least fifty comments saying the same. Brett Yang should do the Ling Ling workout.

And like hell he was going to make that happen. Once the thought appeared, he couldn't get rid of it. He collaborated with bigger names, like Hillary Hahn. Why not Brett Yang? And it was the quarantine, a classical musician like Brett probably didn't have anything to do anyway.

The plan was set up, challenge accepted, time to roll from his couch and write an email.

It was harder than it sounded, Brett was just a year older than him, after all. Is he going to start with Mr. Yang? Or just a good old hello? He decided to wing it and go with Mr. Yang. He could always turn it into a joke later.

Not so far away, said violinist played the perfect last note and decided to call it for the day. Quarantine sucked, but at least he had more time to practice. Sadly, it wasn't like this year's season was going to continue any time soon.

He flopped onto a couch and decided to have a peaceful afternoon with a good takeout and horrible movie, when he saw the notification from youtube - Eddy Chen uploaded a new video. Food could wait.

As he clicked on the logo, his eyes caught a glimpse of another interesting thing right between the Youtube and Facebook notifications. It was a new mail. From Eddy Chen.

His finger stopped hovering over the phone's screen, as he decided to get into his mailbox first. It was full of unread messages and basically a mess, but the newest mail shined bold and black against the white background. It really was from Eddy Chen. It really was an offer for collaboration.

There is only so much one can do when facing this kind of opportunity.

Fuck yeah.

He shot the answer back immediately. It isn't every day when your favourite youtuber offers to do a video with you.

Youtuber? Musician? Probably both. It didn't matter at all. Eddy did a good job introducing the world of classical music to the younger generations, making it fun and educational at the same time. The content from his channel was primarily targeted at musicians, but so easy to comprehend that even non musician fans found their way through. And when he wasn't doing goofy stuff and played seriously (it didn't happen as often as it should), the amount of skill he possessed gave Brett chills.

It was almost like he made you forget that he is a professional violinist only to sweep you off your feet with ten seconds of Sibelius or something on the same technical level. His phrasing was beautiful and the musicality? Simply out of this world. Every second of his playing was worth listening to and left you with a wish to hear more. This unfinished season meant that even though Eddy got the place of a soloist at one of the most prestigious orchestras, nobody was going to hear him play. Fuck the corona.

Brett had strong feelings about Eddy Chen.

Maybe you could say he had a very small, perhaps even infinitesimal celebrity crush on him.

And being invited to do the Ling Ling workout? An honour. Even though it was in a little bit old fashioned way.

He found Eddy on Facebook, the newest video long forgotten under the feeling of anticipation, and sent him a friend request. It took no time at all to got it accepted and he wrote the first message, first interaction between them two. (Nobody counts mails as a form of human interaction.) It was the start of a crazy adventure, full of viola jokes and classical music, full of duets and feelings.

He, of course, didn't know that yet.

You: Hello, Mr. Chen

You set the nickname for Eddy Chen to Mr. Chen

It sounded like an appropriate start of a conversation.

Seen. That was quick.

Mr. Chen: Hello, Mr. Yang

Mr. Chen: I don't think you'll let me live this one down

Mr. Chen set your nickname to Mr. Yang

Hell no! Brett totally wasn't going to forget this greeting. It made him feel ancient. They were only a year apart!

You: I hope with all my heart this sudden change to the great application of Messenger won't offend you, Mr. Chen

You: Unless you would be more pleased if we used the more traditional way of sending pigeons?

Mr. Chen: That would be more than appreciated, Mr. Yang, but all my pigeons unfortunately have better things to do at the moment

Mr. Chen: like eating bread

Brett sincerely laughed at that; the guy was the same dork as he portrayed himself to be in videos. It was a bit weird, talking to the person for the first time and still feeling like he knew him for the better part of his life.

Mr. Chen: flying in the circles

Mr. Chen: walking on the street and running from people

You: Sounds like your pigeons are truly busy birds

Mr. Chen: The busiest

You: But I believe we're not here to discuss your passion for cocks

Oh, man, was that too much? He didn't even think before sending that. God.

Mr. Chen: NOooooooo!

Mr. Chen: How could you do this to me!

You: I'm not sorry, you walked right into this one!

There was a big smile plastered on his face and he had to remind his body to relax a little. He was fine.

Mr. Chen: You won, okay, you won

Mr. Chen: I hope you don't get too cocky now

Hah, Brett saw what he did there.

You: Well, toucan play this game

Mr. Chen: Okay

Mr. Chen: I see you won't sparrow me the bird puns

That. That was horrible. Truly disgusting. He couldn't help but grin.

You: A tie!

You: It's a tie!

Mr. Chen: I'll stop only because we have things to discuss.

Mr. Chen: But this war is far from over

Well, that was a bit concerning. He should look up more bird puns. But now it looked like they were back to business.

You: So

Mr. Chen: So

You: Ling Ling Workout?

Mr. Chen: That's right

Eddy was in his favourite position of the day, on a couch with the phone in his hand. The only thing different from the rest of the otherwise boring afternoon was the person on the other side.

The one and only Brett Yang. Master of skipping the small talk as it seemed. And somehow, in the brief conversation they had, he managed to create an inside joke and a war of bad puns. That was more than some of Eddy's friends achieved in five years. Or longer.

It was time to explain what the Ling Ling workout was about. Not everyone wanted to embarrass themselves on camera in front of thousands of people. And especially not in a skill they devoted their life to.

You: It's a game where you draw out a piece and a challenge and have to do your best

As he was writing the rest of the rules and specifying the liabilities, like few times before, one message cut him off.

Mr. Yang: I know

Brett was a fan? As he held his finger on text, not knowing if he should erase it all and write a simple 'what' or send it nevertheless.

Mr. Yang: I know how it goes

Mr. Yang: And I was born ready!

That was a level of confidence Eddy didn't anticipate. Even Ray was a bit sceptic when he got talked into it for the first time. It might've been because of the 'twerking' and maybe because it was a crazy idea.

A guy has to be a bit insane to play Paganini with a baroque bowhold.

You: Wow

You: Geniuses really are born, not created

That sounded like something to put on a shirt.

Mr. Yang: Just kidding, I'm already nervous

You: You should be *the laughing devil emoji*

You: Do you want to know the challenges beforehand?

Mr. Yang: I do!

Mr. Yang: But don't tell me them, I'd probably go and tried to practice it

That made a perfect sense. But it was like saying in the sight-reading exam that you know the piece they gave you. Honourable, noble and foolish.
It made Eddy like Brett even more than he already did.

You: The challenges are to be held secret.

You: Noted. I'll make sure to get you the best ones.

Mr. Yang: I have a bad feeling about this

Mr. Yang: But you're the boss, Mr. Chen

Eddy couldn't do anything but snicker at the nickname. One brain-freeze and he was stuck with it forever.

You: Good choice

You: And what about the pieces?

You: But bear in mind I don't know your repertoire

Mr. Yang: I guess there is no going from Tchaik, is there?

You: And you're right. You're totally playing Tchaik

Mr. Yang: In the worst possible circumstances

Mr. Yang: With my luck I'll draw it together with standing on head or something

Now, that was a good idea for a challenge!

You: What about some Paganini?

Mr. Yang: Choose whatever from his more known caprices and I'll be fine

You: Confidence level Ling Ling

Mr. Yang: It doesn't matter what you play when you play it with reversed hands

You: And ain't that the truth

This guy wasn't just funny, talented and pretty. This was some galaxy brain way of thinking he got there. Someone had to stop him before conquering the world.

You: But I think your right to choose pieces just expired

Mr. Yang: It did what? I chose like zero of them

You: You didn't think I was going to ruin the surprise

Mr. Yang: No...

Mr. Yang: But it was nice to have a dream

You: Just wing it when the day comes

He couldn't restrain himself from doing that. Bad puns were infectious.

Mr. Yang: I have a feeling this isn't going to be my peak performance

And once again, Brett answered without missing a beat, without the three dots signalizing 'this person is currently typing' longer than would be normal to write the sentence. It was almost magical how quickly they got on the same wavelength.

Mr. Yang: Just tell me, when does the day come?

You: When the envelopes arrive at your place

Mr. Yang: Is this another way to ask me for the address?

Mr. Yang: For someone so old fashioned with you pigeons and envelopes, you are a bit forward, aren't you, Mr. Chen

You: You simply bring out the best in me, Mr. Yang

They went on with the conversation and when Eddy looked at the time it was because his face hurt from grinning so much. He quickly realized they were talking much longer then he thought, it was ages after midnight. He wasn't sleepy at all, but Brett's answers took longer and longer, so he decided to call it for the night.
He didn't get a 'goodnight' in response.

Brett didn't write the 'goodnight' because of a one simple reason. He fell asleep with his phone lit up and glasses on, his bed becoming a temptation he couldn't resist. Comfortable and worn out from the exciting day, he couldn't hold his heavier and heavier eyelids open, but also didn't want to give up the conversation and say goodbye. What if tomorrow they wouldn't talk? Sleep was stronger than him in the long run.
The soft ping of Eddy's last message didn't wake him up.

Chapter Text

Eddy Chen

103 882 subscribers

From the first day they've got to know each other to this one, Brett checked his letterbox more times than was probably healthy. Screw Eddy for not sending the things through Messenger or something. He was waiting for the envelopes to arrive like a lover would for his significant other to return from war.

Impatiently.

But his suffering ended much more sooner than the lovers would, finding what he wanted only two days later. It still felt like an eternity.

Eternity filled with his face constantly glued to the screen of his phone, laptop or both at the same time, even taking breaks from practicing to respond to the text flowing back and forth. He couldn't complain on the lack of service when someone was so dutifully entertaining him.

They got along fantastically quickly.

At one point Eddy asked on the math tutoring all those years ago and it turned out that yeah, they both sucked at math, and yeah, it was him. Brett imagined what it would be like to start a conversation with the scrawny kid with emo hair back then.

Would they become best friends? Or friends at all?

Maybe more than that?

If something had changed from that time when he was fourteen and Eddy thirteen, it absolutely weren't his mathematical skills.

But his appreciation for men sure did became more conscious.

What was he doing again?

Oh right, he finally fished out two bright yellow envelopes with his name messily hand-written on them. Instead of the sender's address in the left corner there were just two L's and a smiley face.

His first impulse was to tear them open right then and there, but he guessed it could ruin the authentic reaction and probably start a few conspiracies about the trustworthiness of his soon to be amazing performance. It was better to text Eddy and wait for a few moments longer.

He fished out his phone, never out of reach these days, and shot the message.

You: Knock knock

He didn't have to wait for the answer more than few seconds.

Mr. Chen: Oh no

Mr. Chen: Who is here?

You: A pigeon!

Mr. Chen: ...a pigeon who?

You: A pigeon who brought the envelopes!

This was so stupid.

Mr. Chen: O

Mr. Chen: M

Mr. Chen: G

Brett could only laugh at that, knowing already that all bad jokes were appreciated on a deeper level.

Mr. Chen: That was fast

Mr. Chen: You ready?

That was a good question. Was he? Of course not. Could anyone be ready for a Ling Ling workout, also known as 'the most embarrassing thing you're going to do since that one time in uni'?

But screw it, he was going to make this count.

You: You bet!

He was getting nervous.

Mr. Chen: Then wait a minute, I'll fetch some stuff and we can start

Brett went for his violin, because it seemed like they were going into action right now. It made sense; they didn't have a reason not to do it at this moment. No places to be, no important videocalls with conductors, no nothing to save him from the challenge as far as he was concerned.

So he tuned.

He quickly tried a few notes from Tchaik, like many times before to ground himself. It didn't feel like all the times before. If every competition and every concert were a battle, this felt like preparing for a war.

Exciting.

Dangerous.

New.

He set the place up, turning on the front cam to see how the place looked. He needed the room. Lindsey Stirling couldn't be done on a centimetre of space, after all.
He ran fingers through his hair one more time and corrected his glasses. It was not going to be better; his haircut was getting more and more out of hand as the weeks passed. Now was too late to get anxious about that.

Violin in tune? Checked.

Nothing weird in the take? Double checked.

White Practice shirt, which absolutely pinpointed him as a fan? On. No regrets.

Maybe he was ready after all.

Eddy was running around his flat just in his underwear, trying to remember where in the almighty alto clef was his rosin. Even though he wasn't the one meant to play in this vid, one could never know what crazy technique was needed to be explain to the poor non violinists out there. His violin had to be ready.

He finally found the thing. (It was in the violin case. What a surprise.)

Now was the time to turn on the laptop and clear his surroundings of anything that didn't belong there. Like the empty ice-cream box. What, it might've been cold outside, but that was outside. It was quarantine, baby, what was happening outside was nobody's business.

On the last moment he remembered that some clothes would be probably appreciated and fetched some pants (one can never know if he'd have to stand up and he wasn't going to take that chance), and a black Practice tee. After a quick check in the mirror, he threw over his shoulders a black & white striped shirt, hoping it'd hide the awful state in which the t-shirt was. It didn't.

You: Ready!

Soon enough, there was Brett beaming at him from the screen of his laptop as he was setting his audio. Seeing him in person was a new feeling, since they've exclusively chatted till now. No calls, no videos, Eddy didn't even know how this guy's voice sounded like, but he still felt the level of familiarity with him, like they didn't know each other for three days.

"Hello, mister Chen!" Brett waved at him with a cheeky smile and the energy of thousand suns. He was looking good. And wearing his merch. These two things weren't connected. (At all.)

"Hello, mister Yang!" Eddy answered and couldn't help but laugh at that. "It's good to hear your voice!"

"Is it? If you wanted to hear my voice you could've just ask me for my number."

"And that wouldn't be too forward? I thought we're maintaining a strongly professional relationship."

Brett sincerely laughed at that. They were exchanging embarrassing stories, favourite pieces and bad puns for the last three days, there wasn't anything professional about them.

His laugh was contagious, sincere and bubbly and wow, Eddy wouldn't mind spending the rest of the day listening to the sound.

"Since it's you I probably wouldn't say no to speeding things a little bit."

Was he flirting with him? Eddy pushed that thoughts somewhere in the back of his brain, this wasn't the time for personal feelings at all. "Awwwh, bro, stop or I'll start blushing!"

Brett dabbed and his glasses almost fell from his face. This was going to be a wild ride. But first, he needed to make sure everything is going to run smoothly.

"Can you play a few notes of something? I need to check if the mic is catching you in some hearable way."

He didn't get an answer. Or at least not with words. The Darude – Sandstorm right into his ear got him almost dying in a horrible pain and then laughing hard. This was the last thing he expected from a classical elite like Brett.

"Dude! For real?"

Brett played it with a pokerface, like it was a serious piece of music, worthy of all the listeners in the world. He delivered the notes with the same level of confidence and steady hand as his Tchaikovsky violin concerto, but his straight expression was very quickly falling apart.

Eddy stopped meddling with the technique, it wasn't going to get any better anyway. Instead, he focused on the corners of Brett's mouth twitching in a barely suppressed grin and then falling into a big smile as he couldn't hold the grave dead expression anymore. He was a different person when he played music. A fantastic, impossible person.

Brett caught him staring and beamed at him, taking a bow, like he just played the most exciting piece for the best audience ever.

Eddy played his role of the smitten audience and started clapping and cheering like a true fan. He was a true fan of Brett Yang; it wasn't that hard to act awestruck.

Their eyes locked as well as it could go through the cameras and Eddy knew the pure happiness he sensed from their moments together was mutual.

"What about the audio?" Brett asked after they both calmed down.

"It's ready to roll. But bro, now I want to change all of the pieces to the meme music now!"

Brett looked at him with a mischievous glimpse in his eyes. "Meme Ling Ling workout! Meme charades! Meme music played like different composers!"

"We gotta do that!"

"Which one?"

"All!"

"Okay!" Brett picked up his bow again and played a few notes of wii music as a form of celebration.

They didn't even have one video and already talked about future collaborations. It was almost too easy. He picked up his violin and joined Brett, throwing the Careless Whisper in the mix. Brett instantly adjusted and made room for Eddy's melody in his playing.

This guy was full of surprises. Soloists were usually soloists because they could play solo and most of the pretentious bastards were unable to be led in a group or a duet, where they really had to look out for the other person and collaborate. Brett naturally let him join without skipping a beat, only looking for the eye contact, showing that he's ready to follow Eddy with any idea he could have in mind. Soon they both were improvising hard and playing around with their chosen themes.

Duets were never so effortless. Even despite the lagging.

It was stupid. They were meddling the songs together, the melody only falling apart when Brett tried to change his piece to nyan cat and didn't get the first note right. Which resulted in him laughing and taking Eddy down with him.

"Sorry, my dog ate my perfect pitch."

The wholeassed apology made it even better.

"I have no idea what that was." Eddy exclaimed when he finally caught his breath again.

"I have no idea either." Brett shot right back at him. "But bro, that was legitimately a thing."

Eddy couldn't help but agree. They were musically complimenting each other, falling into the same rhythm without effort. None of them was leading, they were both free to experiment and try whatever they wanted. It was a freeing feeling. That was the jamming jazz musicians were always talking about. And if the magic could be done with a meme music, how amazing would it be with the immortal classic?

Eddy was enjoying himself way too much and they didn't even start with the video yet.

Shit, they didn't even start with the video!

It was time to get back to work. If he could call it that.

While Eddy was doing his usual intro, Brett sneakily moved out of the shot, hoping the other wouldn't notice right away.

In his thoughts, he was still getting over their spontaneous meme duet. Man, that hit differently. Eddy was a meme lord and it showed in the way he managed to invade his wii and make a proper hit out of it.

It was laughable how quickly they figured out the dynamics of the melody none of them ever heard before. It didn't exist the minute before. For fucks sake, he couldn't mend the melodies so perfectly even when playing something meant for two instruments back in the school. And now, out of the blue, it was possible without any practice. Without anything more than three days of conversation over Messenger. Black magic.

Maybe he'll actually slay the reversed hands challenge. Everything was possible after this.

"Today I have a special guest with me! Guys, you've asked for him, so there he is!"

He almost missed his cue, when Eddy introduced him to the invisible audience, but snapped out of his thoughts quickly and jumped into the shot from the side yelling "Hey guys!" as loudly as he could. If he was going to embarrass himself, he was taking Eddy down with him.

Eddy shrieked in a voice that wasn't manly at all. Brett almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Dude!" Eddy was fighting for his composure, looking as if split between laughing and dying.

Brett offered him a cheeky grin.

"This," Eddy said it with emphasis, like he couldn't believe how the sentence continues, "is Brett Yang, a world class soloist, best known for his mind-blowing performance of Tchaikovsky's viola concerto."

Oh wow, so Eddy was a fan. Wait, viola? That bastard. But his offended "Hey!" didn't stop Eddy from going on.

"If you weren't there for it, guys, don't worry and look it up on YouTube, the link will be in the description. It's worth it!"

He'll get him for that later. But now was the time to drop a bomb, a little surprise to throw him off. "And for the people that've already listened to it, how many of you've noticed my little improvisation in the middle of the first movement?"

Eddy gaped at him. "A little improvisation?"

Yeah, a little improvisation. He made a mistake, skipped a bit, played something entirely different and somehow got back together with the orchestra right on time. It was the most terrifying thing that's ever happened to him on stage. And right on the one concert that was being filmed. Geez, the pressure. The look on the conductor's face was priceless now that he recalls it. Back then, he was stressing out of his mind.

"Yeah, the biggest mistake I've ever made on stage."

"And it's on YouTube?"

"It was just my luck that we're filming that night." Brett laughed at Eddy's dumbstruck face. "I'm glad that nobody important noticed, but now that it's over I'm kind of proud, you know."

"Bro, that's insane!" Eddy looked at him with so much awe in just one expression he almost forgave him for the viola joke. But again, almost.

Brett smirked. He won the first round, after all. "Are we going to start with the Ling Ling workout or what?"

"Bro, you can't just casually say something like this and expect me to be calm about it!" he said it with feigned offence, however, he kept smiling during it. "I had prepared a list of your other accomplishments, but I can't beat that now. Just look him up."

Brett took out the yellow envelopes and waved with them in front of the camera.

"That's right, like usual, Brett's got from me the-" Eddy made a pause, like the word he wanted to use was slipping from his mind. Like it was just on the tip of his tongue. The 'how could my English betray me' visible in his eyes.

"Pamphlets!" helped Brett at the same time as Eddy victoriously exclaimed "Envelopes!"

They looked at each other and started laughing.

"Looks like I got you speechless." Brett couldn't help himself and decided to tease.

Eddy was quick to answer. "Open the pamphlets and we'll see if you can make me speechless with your first combo."

Smooth bastard.

But he was right. He ended up tearing the paper to bits like an animal, not like a civilized classical musician. He forgot to prepare some scissors and the bright yellow paper was not going to stop him. (It almost did.)

The fact that Eddy was watching him with an amused smile wasn't helping.

"I hope you'll at least do a funny compilation of this." Muttered Brett.

"Consider it done, Mr. Yang."

They both lost their shit at that.

"But now, shake it up and choose today's first combo! One challenge and one piece!"

"One piece I'm going to butcher! Can't wait!"

God, he was nervous. The pieces of white paper were going to be his death.

He dramatically took out the first one that came under his fingers and read it out loud. "Mozart 4th in D major." He considered that. "Not bad."

"Now the challenge! Now the challenge!"

Yeah, Eddy wasn't helpful.

"I'm so nervous!" Brett chose the challenge and quickly showed it in front of his face. "Oh no. All on the G string!"

Eddy was laughing at him, but it wasn't the worst combo out there. Sure, it was a higher pitched piece, but that's what they got for playing the violin, right?

Brett took a deep breath and brought his violin to his neck. The shoulder rest fell off. He shot a 'dead inside' glare right into the camera. Eddy was on the verge of tears.

When all was in order again, Brett went first with playing what was it supposed to sound like. Mostly to remember how it was supposed to sound like. He plaid the few first notes of the piece, the muscle memory quickly doing its part of the job. So that's how it went!

It was time to play. "Mozart 4 just on the G string!"

It dawned on him almost immediately that he has a little hand for this. But it wouldn't be him if he hadn't tried his best. Lower notes were alright after all.

He stopped when it felt right (it certainly wasn't because of the hard sequence) and looked at Eddy.

"Just for the context to you non-musicians out there, Mozart is all about phrasing and moving from the high notes to the lower in a very quick time. So, when you do that on just one string, you don't have the time to cut off the sound completely and the accidental glissando happens."

Brett took the opportunity and performed the glissando in its purest form: the motorcycle passing by.

"Yeah this! And he" - he pointed at Brett – "didn't have almost any glissando in it! Dude, that's crazy!"

Getting complimented from a guy with a perfect pitch felt good. Even though the phrasing could be better.

"Next!" Exclaimed Brett exitedly, already fishing for another piece. "Méditation! Bro, I haven't played that in a long time."

It didn't matter, because he chose the left and right reversed for the challenge. It was every bit as horrible as he imagined it to be.

The horror. His left hand truly was retarded. (Not that his right was handling the bow any better.)

He all but fled from that one after it was visible that it really won't get any better any time soon and chose the next piece. There was no point in bashing in the unperformable things.

Mendelssohn in E minor 3rd movement paired with all down bows was alright, but maybe anything would be alright after the reversed hands challenge. It kind of felt like the calm before storm, Eddy sure as hell prepared some more cruel surprises.

The storm came the moment after, because next in line was Tchaik. It had to come, of course it did, but this early? Apparently. And it was just his luck to drew out Lindsey Stirling style to it. At least he didn't have to butcher the piece, only the presentation. Well, after remembering the way Eddy had offended him right in the beginning, he guessed he had to butcher the piece a tiny bit.

"Oooooooooooooo" Eddy openly laughed into his face. It looked like he was even more excited about the Tchaik and Lindsey together. And who was Brett to deny him that? If he should have a video of him twerking on the internet, it better be good.

"I'm so ready for this one." Brett said with a serious expression as he moved in the middle of the room. "Am I in the shot?" he yelled at Eddy.

"It's beautiful! I see you've prepared for Lindsey!"

"Let's just say I've had some presumptions."

Eddy showed him thumbs up.

Brett wasn't a dancer. He was a classical musician. A respected soloist. And a violist for this one.

Also, his dignity long gone, he was shameless and mentally prepared for this turn of events. Not for this one in particular, but it had to do.

"Tchaikovsky viola concerto." He casually announced and caught a glimpse of Eddy's horrified expression. But nothing could stop him from slamming the bow onto the strings like a madman, accidental spiccato all the way up and down, playing the right notes technically, but in reality alternating between hitting them a tiny bit higher or the tiniest bit lower. He knew Eddy's perfect pitch would be going crazy even without the awful bowing he got going. But let's say he felt special desire to pay him back for the viola comment.

His horrendous sound was even expanded by him almost falling off his feet while turning around and kicking his leg into the air.

"Okay, okay, I get it! Bro, I get it!" Yelled Eddy while covering his ears. "I'm sorry! You can stop now!"

Brett would love to keep playing for a little bit longer, but his spinning head told him that wouldn't be the best idea. He stopped. The silence was beautiful.

Eddy stopped blocking his ears and it seemed he got to the same conclusion. Brett felt proud.

"Fuck, that was awful."

"Thank you, bro. I did my best."

"But still better than half of the violists out there."

Their combined "Oooooooooooh" quickly got rid of any leftover silence and maybe, just maybe it was an even more beautiful sound.

"As much as I've enjoyed this performance, don't think you can get out of the Tchaik this easily!"

"Crap. But I've tried." Brett got ready again, already prepared for doing it all once again. It was unavoidable. He started playing, this time focusing on not doing too many turns, fainting on screen wasn't his favourite pastime after all. And he did his fucking best, the music never once slipping or hitching, carrying through his room strongly and thickly. Hopefully it was hearable on the other side of the screen too. Tchaikovsky's violin concerto was his piece, even if it contained twerking.

"I can't believe that I'm saying that-" Eddy watched him intensely "-but was the best Tchaik I've ever heard. It almost erased the thing from before from my mind."

Brett was trying to catch his breath after the physical effort he had to put to the twists and turns.

"I don't think we need a 'how it's supposed to sound' with this one." Eddy laughed, but it sounded a little bit off to Brett's ears. He didn't need a perfect pitch to know when something was wrong, after all.

"Thank you for saying that, but I'll gladly do the version without trying not to die in the process. For the consistency."

"Of course, we wouldn't want to treat this piece differently."

The sentence was neutral enough, but Brett didn't miss the way Eddy's eyes lit up. And if he could do that only by playing the first few notes of his favourite concerto, he would do it again and again. For reasons.

Chapter Text

Eddy Chen

103 895 subscribers

Eddy could've listened to the opening notes of Tchaikovsky for the rest of his life. Or not just to the beginning, he would let Brett play the entire thing, if it was in his power. A small, personal concert. He would gladly do the rest of the orchestra for what was it worth.

But they were filming, and Brett cut off the music to go on with the challenge.

Eddy cheered and clapped, made a few comments to the invisible audience and Brett took out of the envelope another piece of music with a whole new level of confidence.

It was the Brahms in D major and his favourite challenge of all – can't play the B, instead say Brett.

This one was a true mindfuck. It's crazy how much of the music is just natural, you're not thinking about what note you play, it's more about the sound you make. And since Brett didn't have perfect pitch, it all probably became a question of muscle memory and a pure 'getting it to sound right'.

The first few notes before the big treason were played skilfully and lightly, even though a bit slower than would be normal.

"Brett."

The first obstacle – done. Brett was concentrating hard. Looking at his fingers to know by sight if his fingers automatically move to any B and double checking everything.

"O O O O! Brett!" said Brett on the last moment he could, looking surprised, like that note just manifested itself in the piece. He quickly recovered and carried on.

"Brett!" a quick save on a B flat. Eddy was doing everything he could not to laugh out loud and ruin the perfect presentation of the panicking violinist. He saw him pressing the bow back against the string and play the next note, which was... A perfect B flat. Brett realized it a second later.

"Fuck! This is hard!"

Eddy just grinned at him.

"Fuck, can I even say fuck?"

That sent Eddy from smirking to laughing his soul out in no time at all. Brett was looking at him with wide eyes, like he was genuinely asking an important question, but he totally did it on purpose. It wasn't even the first f-bomb in this video!

That didn't stop the puppy eyed look Brett was sporting at the moment from being cuter than it should've been.

"Of course not, this is fucking YouTube!"

Brett burst into laughter and man, was it infectious. Eddy felt like he spent most of the video either rolling in the aisles or cracking up and trying not to explode from the inside.

"Good try, but you can't talk your way out of this challenge." He overcame himself, sent a meaningful glare on the other side of the screen and saw Brett getting even more cheekier.

"But can I fuck my way out of it?"

It should be illegal to say the word fuck like that. Eddy didn't have it in himself to shamelessly agree that this could probably work and went with his second best option, much more discreet option. A safe option.

"That's it, I'm cutting this part from the video."

"I'll take it as no."

They got to the end of the B-Brett challenge rather quickly after that. Brett was trying his best, but after he didn't say his name at the right time and few seconds yelled it instead of a good old A, he gave up and admitted his defeat.

The Ling Ling workout was coming to an end and Eddy couldn't for the love of Sibelius remember what was the last challenge he threw inside.

"Paganini Caprice no. 24! Bro, that's like getting the final boss."

He looked suspiciously unfazed by this choice of caprice. The 24th was a challenge to play by itself, you didn't need someone to throw rock under your feet to make it worse. But again, it was Paganini. All his pieces were like this.

Brett shook the second pamphlet and single piece of white paper gracefully floated right under the table. He bent to pick it up only for his shoulder rest to give up on its purpose and fall on the ground right when he straightened up once again. Brett sent the camera his best deadpan face, truly embodying someone who is slowly and painfully dying inside.

Eddy couldn't help but snicker at the show. Brett was a natural talent in front of a camera, his sense for drama right on point. This video was going to be a hit.

"What's the last challenge?" Asked Eddy eagerly, all but bouncing on his chair.

"Bro, you were writing it, you should know what's the last one."

"I forgot!"

Brett didn't answer him, too busy keeping the piece of paper and his violin whole, but Eddy could see the amused smile on his face.

"Double speed!" Exclaimed Brett right when he was able to read what was written inside.

"Of course!" Not that he remembered, but let's pretend he did. "Paganini 24th and double speed?"

"That's a great combo!" Shouted Brett at the same moment Eddy went "That's a death combo!"

"What?"

"What?"

"Guys, never trust someone who thinks that Paganini is great news, especially when you're talking about going twice as fast!" Eddy turned to the invisible audience.

Brett was shaking his head in disagreement but waited for his partner in crime to finish speaking. "Or don't trust a guy who can't handle speeding things up a little bit."

That. That didn't sound like it was aimed on the caprice at all. Together with Brett's expression and his words earlier it felt more like a personal challenge. Was he really flirting with him or was that just a friendly banter? He had to admit his tiny musical crush on Brett only grew into something more personal than just a flying thought. Perhaps it was because of their casual banter, maybe because Brett's Tchaikovsky felt like a serenade.

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but Eddy was no ordinary man. He was a musician first and foremost, the way to his heart was through his ears. And he liked what he heard.

But that didn't mean this was the train of thoughts he wanted to jump on right now, his fondness could be solved later. He felt his cheeks heating up and prayed to all the gods above and Paganini below that his camera is crappy enough not to recognize the difference.

"What is the normal speed?" asked Brett more or less a rhetoric question, thankfully oblivious to the inner turmoil the other was going through.

Eddy snapped out of it and started clapping out the rhythm. "Something like this?"

"Yeah, sounds about right." Brett started playing the first variation in the normal tempo.

It was quick. Like, it was quick.

"So, the double speed would be something like this?"

And Eddy could just gape at the fingers running up and down the neck of the violin, completely forgetting to clap a rhythm that would make sense. Brett got through the first variation with relative ease and okay, this guy had the right to go 'That's a great combo!' upon getting Paganini double speed.

He went right into the second variation after a small pause and this one was more tricky, quicker bowing and everything. Somehow, his vibrato was still flawless. In the third variation came a bit of a relief, if you count as a relief a slower tempo in exchange for chords.

It was the fourth when the whole thing fell apart after Brett missed one of the notes. It was honestly impressive that he got this far.

"Whooooooo, this one was hard!" He laughed as he tried the part again and this time failed even sooner.

"Dude, that was insane! You made it sound like it was meant to be played like this!"

Brett beamed at him.

Eddy got a sudden urge to try and challenge him to something even more technically difficult. Something he wouldn't like to hear if he had been on Brett's place. "Could you try the ninth variation?"

"That's the left hand pizzicato one, right?" Asked Brett with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

If someone told Eddy to do this, he would try to avoid it like a plague. (Or like the covid-19.) His left hand pizz was alright. But not the Paganini type of alright, and sure as hell not Paganini double speed on YouTube alright. He could try, but he would be destined to fail. Brett, on the other hand, didn't look like giving up or even considering backing down from this challenge.

He looked ready and confident.

And, evidently, he had a reason for it.

Eddy could only helplessly watch Brett's skilful fingers dance on the fingerboard with his mouth open and hands tangled in his hair. It was graceful and effortless, the speed solely adding to the skill and showing the flawlessness of his technique.

It was intense. For the lack of better metaphors, because Eddy's brain was busy processing, it was like looking right into the sun intense. Fuck. Unbelievable.

Back at uni, there were rumours circulating about Brett's left hand pizz. And they were just proven to be true.

Brett secretly enjoyed it. Or maybe not so secretly, at this point showing off his skills gained by more than twenty years of practice and relishing every second of it. He might've embarrassed himself while trying to say his name instead of B, he might've screwed up the reverse hand challenge exactly as anticipated, but left hand pizzicato? That was his technique, the same way as Tchaik was his piece.

The look on Eddy's face was worth it.

He knew there was a slim chance of getting the Caprice no. 24, after all, they went to the same school. Even though Brett was a year older, the joke about him selling his soul to the Paganini himself leaked from his grade to the rest of the school after some big presentation and it followed him ever since. It made sense that Eddy wanted to prove the truthfulness of that rumour.

And he wasn't going to disappoint.

But man, that was fucking fast.

He finished the last pluck with a cocky garnish and put his violin down, smiling. Eddy seemed to wake up from his trance and started explaining the difference between right hand pizzicato and the left hand one. "The right hand is like playing the guitar, you just pluck strings instead of bowing them and the left hand is changing positions."

He started playing the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

"And the left hand pizz is doing the same, without the right hand. You find the place where you want to be on the fingerboard and pluck it right there. When you bow something and pluck at the same time, you can even play something like your own accompaniment."

Brett took the wheel and continued with the explanation. "And in the ninth variation is the pizz alternating with the bowing, which makes it even harder, because Paganini was a lunatic."

"He didn't care about out poor fingers."

"The same way Liszt didn't care about small handed pianists."

"That's absolutely true. Liszt is the piano Paganini. I wonder who the Paganini of flute would be!"

"Ooooh, or the cello!"

"Guys, if you know some equally crazy composers of another instruments, leave it in the comments bellow and we'll check them out!"

We? They really were out there talking about future collaborations. They knew each other only three days. And it was an internet relationship. They didn't even shake hands or anything, but the feeling of intimacy was insane, like the mental level of knowing someone was much stronger than knowing them physically.

Sadly, the video was coming to an end. There was something definitive hanging in the air and since Eddy said the last sentence, Brett felt a pull to do the outro. It would've been so natural, easy, to go and say that one sentence every YouTuber says. Goodbye's to the fans, thankyou's to the hosts, like and subscribe, see you next time, have a nice life.

He resisted.

Instead, he waved and smiled after Eddy ended his outro, thanked him for the invitation and they were done after one shared scream for the subscribers to stop watching videos and go practice.

Like him. He should go practice after this all.

Eddy beamed at him from the other side, showing thumbs up. "Bro, you've totally killed it." He looked happy with the material they managed to get done. Then he grimaced. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I forgot to record this! We have to do it again."

"You forgot to do what?" Brett could feel his heart skipping a beat after this sentence and Eddy lost his carefully schooled expression.

"Just kidding, I have everything." He was laughing at him. Idiot. "But your face!"

"Bro, you tried to kill me! This was an assassination attempt!"

"Sorry."

Eddy looked him with a fake pout and hands dramatically clutched at his heart. He wasn't sorry one bit, but it was goddamn hard to even pretend being angry at him. Brett caved in after the world record of three seconds.

"Fine."

He got a dab as a response.

"You can just ask me directly next time and spare me the infarct. This body is too old for this."

"You're like twenty-seven." Eddy shot right back at him, both knowing this isn't the point he was making.

"Twenty-eight."

"Geez, you're so old."

Brett used his deadpan face to express what exactly he thinks about it.

"Okay, okay." Eddy dropped it and grew slightly more nervous, if his fidgeting was any clue. "Would you be open to potential collaborations in the future, Mr. Yang?"

It felt like being asked on a date for some reason. But the decision was made a long time ago and the answer sounded yes, yes and yes indeed.

"If you'll have me, Mr. Chen." Brett couldn't stop himself from smiling. Maybe he didn't even try.

Eddy smiled right back at him.

"Bro, you were amazing! Like really, how did you get used to the camera so quickly? I still feel like a madman when shooting, even after all this time."

Yeah, that was something that made Brett anxious too. Standing in front of the camera and talking to himself? Didn't sound like fun at all. But once he got the hang of it and focused on talking not to the camera, but to Eddy, it was alright. More than alright, it was actually enjoyable.

"Broooo, you don't even know how nervous I was! But I guess it would be way worse without you there."

"Yeah, I feel much better while making video with someone else! Leading a conversation is easier than like, talking to yourself and deciding if you need medical treatment or a better job." Eddy smiled and made a short pause, as if deciding if he should say the next sentence or keep the words to himself. He didn't say anything.

But Brett could speak just fine. "I've had fun shooting this with you." It was an honest statement, because he really did enjoy himself.

"I've had fun too."

Was it the light or was Eddy blushing? He looked somewhere out of the shot and his expression turned from smiling to a sheer shock in no time at all. "Bro, we're on the call for fifty minutes now!"

"Fifty minutes? I have to practice!" Yelped Brett, double checking what Eddy just said on his phone.

"And I have to edit this thing!"

He really needed to practice, but the curiosity was stronger than the pull of his violin. "When do you want to release it?"

And he didn't want this call to end.

"Honestly, as soon as possible. I almost ran out of my prepared videos already!"

"Procrastination is a bitch." Brett openly laughed at him. The time in quarantine wasn't real at all. An hour could last twenty minutes, or two days, and he wouldn't notice. Somehow, with all the free time on his hands, he was as busy as always, but everything took twice as long.

"The last few days worse than ever." He could hear the teasing clearly in Eddy's tone.

"Are you trying to blame me for that? Bro, I just made you a video!" Brett laughed and watched as Eddy stuck out his tongue on him. He was such a child.

Brett didn't resist sticking his tongue right back at him. Childish.

Their contest ended when Eddy couldn't hold the laughter anymore and Brett went down with him, laughing freely at the behaviour of both of them. He couldn't remember when was the last time anyone made him want to embrace his inner petty side and be himself, without the pressing expectations. He was expected to be a good son, he was expected to be a good student, he was expected to be a great soloist.

With Eddy, he wasn't expected to be anything more than a human being and even that border was debatable.

It only sounded appropriate to say what he was thinking. Even if it was a bit sappy. "Really, thank you for doing this with me."

Eddy shamelessly teased him for it. "If I'd known there are some feelings under your poker face, I'd have approached you sooner."

"Hey, I was trying to be serious here!" Brett laughed.

"I know, I know, I'm glad you didn't turn me down too."

"How would I turn down a YouTube star like you?"

"I can think of at least hundred ways a soloist like you could've ignore a YouTuber like me." It sounded a little bit too raw.

Brett was not going to let this statement hang in the air. "Maybe I'd turn down a YouTuber." He looked right into the camera. "But a fellow violinist? I could never."

Eddy's smile was louder than any words.

"And now, I should really go practice." He didn't want this call to end at all. But someone had to be strong.

"You really should."

In the contrary of what he said, Brett didn't move an inch from his position. Eddy didn't look like ending the call either.

"And you should go to edit this thing, whatever it is."

"I should."

"This is dumb." Laughed Brett after none of them made an effort to press the red button. It was like they didn't want to give up the company of the other. Returning to the world of practicing, practicing and practicing? No thank you, that way too hard. Speaking with Eddy on the other hand? Easy.

"Talk to you later?" Eddy asked, and it probably wasn't supposed to sound like question, but it truly did.

"You know how to contact me." Dumb questions require dumb answers, right?

Brett ended the videocall with one last smile and shut his notebook down with a sharp and decisive clap.

The room was soon filled with the notes of Hungarian Dance No. 5.

Eddy spent the rest of his day editing and listening to Brett's Tchaikovsky. It wouldn't be that hard if he didn't care so much about the product, but it couldn't be shitty, not this one video. The familiar music in the background kept him focused and even though he turned it on because of the supposed 'easter egg' Brett managed to sneak into it, he quickly got lost in the music, enjoying its strong melody and beautiful synchronisation.

That piece was truly a piece of art. Especially while Brett Yang was performing it.

Finally, at an ungodly hour of the night, he managed to edit it into perfection and clicked the upload button, holding his breath for some reason. He checked his phone in the small pause when the video was loading, only to find no new message and decided to call it a night.

The video was up.

First notifications appeared not so long after.

Chapter Text

Eddy Chen

122 057 subscribers

THE FASTEST PIZZICATO??! (Ling Ling Workout With Brett Yang)

Comments (3638)
Eddy Chen: First!

VioVioLinLin: You guys have a great dynamics! I want more Brett, he's such a cutie.
Edit: Thanks for the likes, looks like WE want more Brett!

Nicolo Paganini: That's what I meant by writing pizz

Enamorado: At 15:20 you can see Brett's soul leaving his body

Sad Viola Music: in case someone needs this
00:08 Brett scream
00:58 look at Eddy's face. Just look at it.
01:43 speaking at the same tiiiiiiiiime
read more

ONE1JOB: Alternative title: Eddy fanboying for 18 minutes straight

Perfect Pitch: The video starts at 00:00

Bad Writer: Brett makes me ashamed of my violin playing. I don't play the violin.

GuiltyGuitar: Nobody:
Nobody:
Brett's shoulder rest: Imma head out

God of Flutes: I'm fairly sure Brett sold his soul to the devil

Vibrattito: Anyone else going crazy from that WE at 17:34?? Does it mean we get more Brett? I NEED ANSWERS!

SomeoneElse: 12:59 brett.exe stopped working

MUMOON: brett during performances: :|
brett in this video: :'D :P

TuttiSection: ...I don't want to say anything... But I lowkey ship it...

QuarantinedsAx: Brett: doing something impressive
Me, a non musician:
Eddie: that's crazy!
Me, now educated: THAT'S CRAZY

Going Places: Brett Yang has more talent in his pinkie than I have in my whole body.

CRZPTNT: my selfesteem was low before but holy cow

musicaviva: *chanting in the corner* give us more give us more give us more

Pretty But Petty: find yourself a man who looks at you like Eddy looks at Brett while playing Tchaik

You: Good morning!

Brett was always the first one to wake up. He got used to it quickly, finding the 'active 4 hours ago' or something similar next to Eddy's nickname nearly every morning. His sleeping habits were... interesting.

At this point, saying 'good morning' became a part of his daily routine, just something he did after finding his glasses and before leaving the bed. It was just five days and Eddy Chen had already a place in his life.

He closed his Messenger, because the response could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to five hours, but the phone suddenly lagged and refused to follow the simple order.

Stupid phones.

When he finally, finally, got onto the home screen, he found the reason. His Instagram was overwhelmed by notifications. His Facebook (whoever still uses that thing) was off the charts.

Notifications everywhere.

How could he miss it when he opened his phone in the first place?

There could be only one reason for his social media to suddenly blow up. Eddy must've uploaded the video.

A quick look into the YouTube and yes, he did. God, that was fast.

Great. His first twerking video on YouTube was out and he felt a sudden wave of nervousness coming over him. But now wasn't the time to be nervous, right? It was done and over with, seen by hundred of thousand people already. Fuck.

He clicked on it and stopped it right away, checking out the like and dislike balance. It was good? Who was he kidding, he didn't have any idea what that meant, but there were many likes and just a few dislikes, which sounded alright. And something more than four thousand comments? People really are crazy.

These facts calmed him down a little.

It was time for the rewind. Easy, he could do this. Just eighteen minutes of himself embarrassing himself on the internet.

Play.

Does he always sound so fucking weird?

When Eddy woke up it was nearly a noon, but that was okay. The quarantine was great like this. He checked his phone first thing first, his inner youtuber leading him to ignore the shitload of unread messages from Brett and taking him onto his channel on YouTube.

125 217 subscribers

The number went up by almost thirty thousand literally overnight.

He didn't know if the YouTube algorithm finally reacted to his effort at the cheesiest video name ever or something, or if it was just that good, but still. Twenty. Five. Thousand.

In one day.

He quickly sat on the bed, now fully and completely awake.

He was right, the video was a hit. And Brett was doing another one with him on more than one hundred percent, this was a talent right there.

Twenty-five thousand!

He smiled for himself and went to see what Brett was thinking about it.

Judging from the number of his messages, a lot of things.

Mr. Yang: Good morning!

This one was a classic, always making his day before it even had a chance to start. But that wasn't the end of it by a long shot.

Mr. Yang: I love the scream remix

Mr. Yang: Really ads to the whole experience

Mr. Yang: What the hell is that? I know I asked for funny compilation of me trying to win over the envelope

Mr. Yang: But man, you did me dirty there

Eddy snickered at that.

Mr. Yang: I can't believe I did that with meditation

Mr. Yang: Okay, now that I hear the viola part, I totally believe I did that to the meditation

Mr. Yang: I can feel tchaikovsky rolling in his grave

That was probably true, Tchaikovsky and Massenet got it right into their faces. But not any comment on his jamming to the nice version of tchaik.

Mr. Yang: It's not very nice laughing at the misfortune of others

Eddy knew he points out the B-Brett challenge, where he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut and failing miserably at any attempt for a straight face. On his defence, it was funny!

Mr. Yang: Someone's blushing!

Ouch. It looked like his camera wasn't crappy enough after all. But no further comments on it?

He was getting mixed signals there!

Mr. Yang: Bro, I totally killed the Paganini

Mr. Yang: At least something. Your face is priceless.

Mr. Yang: You know you've already promised our further collaboration, right?

Eddy knew. He noticed the simple and innocent 'we' while editing but decided to keep it. He wasn't saying anything outrageous, they already talked about other videos. And if he gave fans something to look forward to, even better.

It wasn't a conscious decision at all, but he could grind out of it easily now.

The only outrageous thing about it was that he didn't even notice when he was saying the sentence. It felt natural to involve Brett in anything the future could bring.

Mr. Yang: Bro, the comment section is crazy

It was the time to see it for himself.

He decided to respond to the most important message of them all.

You: Good morning!

You: Call me?

Their second video was up.

And their third too.

Three videos in ten days and it changed the whole comment section. Fans got used to his presence rather quickly, maybe even more so than he - the comments under Eddy's ongoing solo videos now asking for him and saying Eddy looks wrong on his own.

It was crazy.

Brett couldn't be any more happy about it. He fell in love with the idea of content that was funny, educational and appealing to the young musicians around the whole word, inspiring more and more people to pick up an instrument, let it be the violin or anything else. It was addictive.

And it was also a motivation for his own practice lessons that always followed the shooting. He never played more expressively in his life.

And it's necessary to say that he fell in love with the sacrilegious boy behind the camera too.

He was screwed.

Eddy Chen

171 963 subscribers

Next time they ended the videocall after two hours. Eddy went directly to editing and put on a loop yet another of Brett's concertos, this time the Mozart 4th in D major.

His channel was on point of reaching the two hundred thousand milestone. Okay, there still was some work to do, but it was inevitable with the speed the number grew every day.

He got double the subscribers just in one week and half and the only change he did? He got himself a partner in crime, the other half, someone as crazy as him, whatever anyone wanted to call them.

Well, the comment section of their videos had a pretty clear idea on this matter.

Breddy. BAE.

Brett and Eddy.

He learned for the first time what the hell the word 'ship' means, apart from the obvious.

And well, the fans were annoyingly right, at least from his side.

He started with a stupid celebrity crush and now had to deal with something even stupider called love.

Did he make a new best friend in a week?

Yeah.

Did he fall in love with him? In the same week?

Also yeah.

Ugh.

It wasn't looking good.

It was the end of yet another video, and this time Brett's mouth slipped. Eddy had the last word once again and he felt the need to carry on and do the outro, like the first time they shot a video together.

The difference between then and now was simple – it wasn't his first rodeo. So he went ahead and did it.

Eddy didn't say anything, but the sheer happiness shining from somewhere inside him, mirroring Brett's own excitement, was more than a thousand words.

They got off the videocall after three hours and something.

Brett practiced and his music sounded different even to his own ears, the pieces more passionate, more haunting, more everything. It could be because he played for an invisible audience of one.

Eddy Chen

196 776 subscribers

Brett officially took over the outros and Eddy couldn't complain about it at all. It felt right, it felt like they had the same position, like Brett finally went from guest to host, like they were equal. And maybe they were.

What didn't feel right was looking at the name of his channel, his name, written in bold letters while uploading, reading the comments or doing literally anything on the YouTube.

Would it be too quick to change it after hardly three weeks of knowing each other?

Would Brett even say yes? Maybe he wouldn't even want to continue with videos after the quarantine is over.

Eddy's extensional crisis could wait on the end of their videocall, which was coming very soon.

"Bro, I know I'm saying it for at least the third time, but I gotta go practice!" laughed Brett, he really tried to escape a few times already.

"Then practice," said Eddy, examining the loose hair of his bow.

"I don't wanna be the one who ends the call again! We have an even score now," Brett tried to persuade him with the best innocent look he could bring on.

Eddy knew it wouldn't be a fair game, so he kept playing with his bow and looking anywhere else than into the camera. He wasn't losing this round.

"Then stay."

Only the following silence got him to double check the sentence in his head. Realization struck him like a lightning bolt, but before he could do something stupid, like try to make a joke out of it, blush or say it again, the reassuring and confident first notes of Hungarian Dance No. 5 cut through the air.

Eddy sheepishly looked up from his violin, the music drawing his attention to the screen despite himself.

Brett stood in the middle of the room with nothing but his violin, facing the camera - thankfully with his eyes closed. His every move was graceful, even majestic, the goofiness from just a few minutes before gone without a trace and the change noticeable in his posture, expression, in his whole presence. He was swaying with the music accelerating the loud passages and relishing in the softer ones, if any passage of Hungarian Dance could be described as soft.

He was charming.

And Eddy was screwed.

Of course, this was the moment Brett chose to open his eyes and stare right back into Eddy's soul. Eddy managed to shut his mouth quickly and look away, but probably not before the light blush covered his cheeks.

Damn it.

Deducing from Brett's instant grin, he wasn't quick enough.

"Weren't you supposed to edit or something?"

Eddy's brain caught up with the question when his head was already nodding in agreement. That was something he was supposed to do. He mentally scolded himself for being so obvious and went to do his work.

The music started again and despite the shitty audio and even worse internet connection, it was the best background soundtrack to editing, so much better than the recordings he listened to before. This was in the real time, with the real Brett Yang.

To be honest, it was also a motivation, seeing him struggle with certain passages like any other normal being.

Eddy Chen

200 002 subscribers

Brett was the first one to notice. He was scrolling through comments of their latest video and the number of subscribers on Eddy's channel didn't start with a number one anymore.

Now the number two reigned. Two for two people?

He knew that the sudden change in numbers was partially his fault, invading Eddy's videos for the last three weeks straight. The channel was now uploading more videos with him than without him and it was a change which suited everyone involved.

The other part of the blame for the incredible increase of viewers had to be the fans. Brett could swear they somehow sensed a romance going on, if the comments were anything to go by with.

Okay, maybe they were sometimes blatantly flirting and maybe he enjoyed Eddy's shy part more than he should, but was it enough to start a fanbase?

The number of subscribers answered his question perfectly.

You: IT'S HERE!

Mr. Chen: IT'S HERE???

You: IT IS!

Mr. Chen: 200 003!

Mr. Chen: That's crazy, we did it!

Brett smiled at the we, so naturally sneaked into the conversation like many times before. The dance they were doing around each other, with each other, was a well-learned one at this point. All the steps imprinted into his head, familiar and comfortable.

He was almost sure Eddy likes him back, likes likes back. Romantically. All that flirting they've done since the day one must've been good for something after all.

But maybe he was wrong, and it was all just a friendly banter, one could never know.

There was a tiny chance his feelings weren't reciprocated, tiny but real. Was it worth it?

You: Call me?

Soon enough, Eddy's smiling face appeared on the screen and Brett enabled his camera too. He probably looked like an utter shit in contrast to Eddy, but who cared anyway, this was a happy moment. He smiled right back at him.

"A videocall, we haven't done that in a while."

Eddy put on his fake offended face. "Don't you dare go sarcastic on me, we're celebrating!"

"Wow, you sounded exactly like my mother."

That only seemed to encourage Eddy as he went into full tiger mom mode.

"Why you not more like a Ling Ling, he practice forty hours a day! No television till you play like Ling Ling!"

Brett tried to stay serious and go with it, but the expression Eddy pulled on was priceless. He lost the battle and they both started laughing.

"That was too real, bro"

"What can I say, I'm an Asian mom at heart."

Eddy looked proud.

"Yeah, a true tiger."

There was a comfortable silence, even enjoyable one. They didn't need words to savour the moments they spent together.

"I was thinking." Eddy was the first one to speak.

Brett couldn't let this one pass. "Did it hurt?"

"Hey, I'm trying to be serious!" Eddy's offended tone was completely ruined by his attempts to stop smiling.

"I know, I know, you were thinking and?" He locked their eyes and could see Eddy growing more and more nervous any second. Could it be?

"I was thinking," he emphasised the word, challenging Brett to try the dumb joke again. "And I had a whole speech prepared, but I can't remember a word-"

Brett was stunned into silence, which was a good thing, because Eddy could continue without any interruption.

He took a deep breath.

"Would you be my YouTube partner?"

What?

"I mean, if you don't want to, that's totally understandable, you have your own life and probably don't have time for this anyway, bu-"

Brett snapped out of the shock. "Bro, bro, shut up."

Eddy stopped rambling.

He answered with the only thing that made sense. "Hell yeah!"

Any remaining nervousness was gone as quickly as it appeared, and the vibrant smile Eddy sent his way was too beautiful. How would he even say no to this?

"Shooting videos with you is the highlight of my days here, and I'm not even kidding!" He smiled right back.

"And after the whole quarantine thing?"

The way Eddy said it sounded like a statement phrased as a question, but the real one was covered under it. He was asking 'Would you have time for me?' in a safe way and Brett was never one to disappoint. Especially when he wanted the same thing.

"What do you think of me? This isn't a two months free trial for me, Mr. Chen."

Thankfully, it looked like it was enough for Eddy.

"I'd offer you a proper business handshake, Mr. Yang, but we'll have to do without it."

Brett got back into their chat and sent the handshake emoji. The response took less than five seconds.

It was official.

He felt like he could smile for the rest of his life.

"So, how are we going to celebrate the number of subscribers and our official partnership?" asked Eddy excitedly, listing the points like he already gave some thought into it.

Brett took a second to think about that on his own, the excitement was highly contagious. "What about a duet? It could be some fancy metaphor for joining forces or something."

In reality, he only wanted to play a proper classical duet, together. And he could see by how Eddy's eyes lit up with new ideas, that he wasn't the only one.

"Spohr? Bartók? And we should rename the channel!"

Who else wrote something for two violins? Coming up with new name for their channel was going to be especially difficult.

"You have anything against your own name?" Laughed Brett, knowing very well it isn't about the name at all.

Eddy sent him an appropriately done look for that and okay, he deserved that.

"Let's say it's lacking your name in it."

It couldn't be more forward if he added a wink and Eddy's sudden confidence was doing things to him.

"Something with two violins in it?"

"Let's focus on the duet first, bro," laughed Eddy, but the wheels in his head already probably started working. "What about Wieniawsky's etude-caprice?"

None of the suggestions sounded right. He tried to go through his mind and after a painful moment The perfect duet dawned upon Brett. It was unexpectedly easy.

"I could see the lightbulb above your head, what do you have?"

Oh, he had something special. Brett smirked and said the idea out loud. "Navarra?"

It was flawless.

Eddy seemed to think so too. "Oooooooooh! But it's impossible to learn for 200 000 celebration!"

Yeah, that was truth. But what if they bend the rules?

"Then we'll do it for the three hundred. Better late than never, right?"

They finally got off the call after god knows how many hours. Eddy couldn't be happier, he got what he wanted after all. Or at least the bigger, more important part, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Brett on a date and potentially ruin the moments of happiness.

That was the moment his phone started to ring again with an incoming call.

Brett?

He picked it up.

"Miss me already?" joked Eddy.

He heard as Brett took a deep breath and armoured himself against bad news. It couldn't be anything good when it asked for a call.

"Would you go out with me?"

Eddy couldn't believe his ears.

"Not out out, we obviously can't do that, but I was thinking something like a date?" He sounded nervous and what a shame it wasn't a videocall, because embarrassed Brett must've been cute.

The nervous silence from the other side reminded him that he should probably give him a response.

"How do you want to go out on a date in the middle of quarantine?" was what came out of his mouth. He mentally rewarded himself for somewhat normal sentence, because the amount of joy he felt was threatening to kill him on this fine night.

"I don't know, ordering pizza, talk about stupid stuff, sight reading the Navarra?"

It sounded like a question and Eddy tried to remember how to breath again. "Tomorrow at six?"

Brett nervously chuckled. "Should I take it as yes?"

Oh right, he didn't really answer the question. "How could I turn down a famous violinist like yourself?"

It seemed like a proper reply.

"Violinist and a youtuber."

He could hear the proud smile in Brett's voice, even though he couldn't see it himself. The quarantine was going to last at least few more months and they had all that time for themselves.

And after that? Who knows?

Maybe it was meant to be just a quarantine fling, maybe it could last a lifetime.

But for now, they had a date settled, business blooming and a duet to learn.

He answered with a smile on his own.

"That's right."

TwoSetViolin

312 421 subscribers

CELEBRATNG THE 300 000 SUBS!

Comments (5878)
Harphie: I, too, would be late to my own milestone

ViolaTed: The last time I've been so early there was only one violinist

BAROQQQ: can't believe we're getting a whole subreddit for ling ling wannabees!

neversaynever: romantic music
broke: the careless whisper
woke: Navarra by Sarasate

HaydnFromYou: I'm already feeling sorry for the editor who gets the job. Imagine trying to make something coherent out of these two. Imagine it.

Breaddy: 5:15 is INTENSE

crawLING: Heard Navarra for the first time, never gonna listen to anything else. This is my jam now.

L157T: Can we just appreciate how happy Eddy looks?

paganani: Crazy how one forgets that they are professional musicians

me necesita: HYPED FOR THE MERCH

John Brown: those smiles at 5:14 and 5:33 tho

BaE 5: more romantic than the salut d'amour and no u cant change my mind

SacriligiouS: Anyone remembers when Brett was a respected soloist? No? Just me? Okay then

EddyBrettStan: MORE. DUETS. PLEASE.

GOTTACATCH: SacRILegIOUs screach at 00:07

BlackTchai(k): These boiz deserve at least two million subs