"Hello..." he began, his voice weak and breaking up at the end. He still wasn't too sure this video was a good idea to make yet, but he knew he had to make it at some point anyway. He really didn't feel up to it, and it showed.

"...and welcome to... to..." He paused to take a deep breath and to force his mouth to form the rest of the unimaginable sentence. It felt wrong to even say it, as it wasn't his line. Unfortunately, he was the only one there to do it. He pulled himself together and cleared his throat.

"... to the last episode... of TwoSet Violin."

It went quiet for a while as it seemed he was struggling to say what he wanted. Normally, Eddy would jump in at this point and say what needed to be said. The audio recording was tainted with the faint sound of an air condition humming away in the background.

"As... as you all... c... can tell..." His voice was more shaky now, weak. He wiped away a tear running down his cheek and seemed to try and pull himself together.

"As you all can tell, Eddy's... not here... t...today..." The last word came out more as a whimper than as a word as he broke down in front of the camera. Saying it out loud made it too real. Tears were shining on his cheek in the faint sunlight fighting to pass through a white curtain. The sound of sobbing filled the audio recording. He put his arms tightly around himself as he continued.

"You have probably already... found out... what happened... that he... he..." The impossibility of the words he was trying to say was incomprehensible. That morning he had been asked by Eddy's mom if he wanted to play in his funeral, and he hadn't known what to say. He wanted to honor him like that, but also wasn't sure if he could ever love music again. Eddy was a big part of the core of Brett's love for music. The pain this man felt radiated through the video format with every word spoken, every sob, every tear.

"That he is no longer... with us..." His eyes were shifting away from the camera, down to his hands fiddling with the sleeve of his slightly too large white hoodie. It seemed he had given up trying to fight the tears now.

"I don't think... I can continue... this... without him." He paused for a long time, struggling with his words again. Not the way he usually was on camera. Normally, Brett was cheerful, a bit cheeky and confident. He wasn't sure he'd ever be himself again.

"I... I'm sorry it's ending like this... I'm gonna miss it, and him. I hope you understand." He stood up and walked over to the camera to turn it off while wiping a tear with the sleeve of the hoodie. He stopped in front of the camera, his face clearer when the camera finally focused on him. The bags under his eyes had never been so bad, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in forever. His hand rested on the camera out of frame, causing a slight tremble on the recording.

"Thanks for watching", he whispered shakily before the audio recorded the recognizable flip of a switch and the screen went dark.