My intense rehearsal schedule can be interrupted by one thing and one thing only; Ledger.

His showcase opening is just days away and whilst I've made sure that he's fed and presentable, I'm less able to control the turbulent anxiety that's overruling his mind.

"Will you come down and see it? Unofficially, I mean. Just...cast an eye over it? It needs to be perfect and...Ned! I told you not to put that there! No, your other left, you dingbat. Oh for heaven's sake, I'll do it myself. Be CAREFUL! That's from the sixties!"

I frown, pressing my phone against my shoulder as I stand up, shrugging on my jacket.

"Ledger?" I ask.

"Yeah, sorry, Grey. These guys are doing my nut in. They think that the lamps can just go anywhere, and that they can be manhandled. They're old enough to be their grandmothers. If their grandmothers were lamps. The point is, it's Hygge." He says.

"Hygge?" I question, faintly recognising the term.

"Danish feng shui. But it's more...comfort focused. Anyway, the lighting has to be just right, and these guys don't have the first fucking clue. So, I'm having to do it myself. I need an outside opinion." He demands, the line rustling terribly.

My chest is warm and light at the thought that I was his first port of call, the feeling completely inappropriate.

"Of course, I'll come straight down." I say, grabbing my keys.

"I'm not...interrupting or anything am I? You don't have rehearsals today?" He asks.

"No, I have the day off." I say.

In truth, I had a to-do list a mile long, and the idea that I have time for this is laughable. But that doesn't seem to stop me.

"Ok, see you soon. Call me when you get here, no one answers the fucking door if you buzz it." He says, hanging up swiftly.

It wouldn't do to point out that he never bothers to answer his phone either.

I make my way down to the studio, grinning at the poster in the window. It's half-concealed, but I recognise the signage from a sketch that Ledger has designed. It looks incredible, and suddenly everything seems a lot more real. His art is going to be showcased to the finest critics in London. This is a huge deal.

I call Ledger and he, predictably, doesn't answer, but the front door buzzes open a few seconds later, much to my surprise. I squeeze through, a little disconcerted at the hordes of lamps scattered in different locations across the floor. These can't all be his...right?

"Ledger?" I call.

"Hey Grey! I'm through here!" Ledger responds.

I weave my way through the maze of lighting, finding Ledger wrestling with a particularly ugly antique lampshade. The tassels are caught in the cuff of his shirt, his hair sticking up in every plausible direction.

"Need a hand?" I ask, coming to his aid.

"You're a lifesaver." Ledger mumbles.

I smile, untangling him from the lamp with ease. Ledger sets it on a wooden podium, plugging it in and switching it on. The light flickers, probably due to the age of the bulb, but it gives the effect of candlelight. He steps back suddenly, reviewing the sculpture from seemingly every angle, critiquing it with a heavy gaze.

"What do you think?" He demands suddenly.

I glance at him, noting his serious expression. I haven't seen it much, he likes to be alone when he's working and I find that I understand that. He's in a completely different place, seeing things I'm sure I can't imagine.

"It looks great." I say.

He glances at me woefully and sighs.

He steps forwards, changing the angle of the lamp, shifting its position and suddenly everything looks different. Shadows are highlighted that were hidden previously, making the sculpture on display shine.

"Oh." I murmur.

"Yeah." Ledger breathes.

"Will you take a look at the others? I've only got a few left to do, but I want to review the room as a collective too, make sure there aren't any dark spots." Ledger instructs, gesturing to his left vaguely and I nod, following his directions.

I walk through the studio, silently taking in everything before me.

It's a little spooky, but it feels like I'm getting to peer inside Ledger's mind. The thought that I am the first person to see this, the first person to take it all in makes me feel strangely honoured.

I can hear Ledger arguing with someone about a lamp, his voice adamant and stern as he voices his demands. I suppress the smile on my lips. I'm not surprised that he lost all patience and decided to organise the lighting himself. His visions are so precise, it's an impossible thought to think anyone but him could bring them to life. I turn back towards the sculptures before me, each of them acting as evidence supporting my statement. I had known that Ledger had been working hard, his recent absence in my life was testament to that, but I had been busy too, and I had had no idea that...

I pause in front of an enormous copper sculpture, gazing at the twists of metal that rise up to the sky like a beacon of glimmering light. The spotlights beneath it hit the dimples in the metal, each lovingly pressed, casting wonderful reflections across the room. But there are dark shadows too, laying between the seams that contrast so beautifully I can hardly comprehend it.

I move on, casting my eye over sketches, canvasses and sculpture upon sculpture until I come to a stop.

I've seen this one before.

It's the smallest piece in the place, tucked away from prying eyes, but I can tell it's important. I can tell because Ledger's placed it here, in the most secluded, peaceful spot in the studio. I can tell because it's lit so softly by his favourite lamp, and because there's no description whatsoever. It doesn't need one.

It's the collar bones of a man, half painted and left to fade to grey. It's beautiful and adoring and so meticulous that he must have spent weeks on it. I bite my lip, shaking my head as I glance behind me.

The name of the showcase isn't particularly inconspicuous to those who know Ledger's past, but I could never have comprehended the depth of his love. All of this is for him, for Everett.

And he has no idea.

My heart aches unbearably at the thought. He thinks that Ledger is happy, thriving, having put it all behind him whilst Everett lives with the memories painfully in front of him. But if he saw this...

I wonder quietly if it would be enough to open his eyes. They're both so unhappy apart, and could be so happy together. My eyes sting at the thought and I bite the inside of my cheek fiercely. I don't get to feel upset about that. Not when I owe Everett so much.

And not when Ledger was never mine to lose.

But it doesn't stop me from wishing with every fibre of my being that it was me he wanted.

I take another glance at the small sculpture in front of me, allowing myself for just a moment to fantasise that it is  for me. That I'm the only thing that he can see, the inspiration that fuels him to the brink of madness.

I shake my head.

I draw out my phone and stare at my eldest brothers contact. My vision mists and I sigh shakily, drawing a hand over my eyes pathetically. It feels as though my heart is breaking and I push it away violently. He was never mine to lose.

And I care for him too much to ever want to see him unhappy.

I press the contact and hold my phone to my ear, smiling softly when he picks up after only the second ring.

"Grey? What's up, are you okay?" He asks and I smile.

"I'm great! I was wondering if you wanted to come up to visit before I start dress rehearsals?" I ask, my voice chipper and bright.

"Sure, I'd love to. When would be good?" He asks.

I glance at the signage in front of me, advertising the two week 'meet the artist' showcase, opening tomorrow. My lip wobbles, a stray tear dribbling down my cheek.

"Shall we say two weeks today?" 

_

A/N

It's Sunday and you know what that means...your next installment of CC. I just love breaking my characters hearts. 

~F