A violinist and his crown

Two years seemed like a long time to prepare for an exam—of course, only if you hadn't wasted it with such a mindset!

Stefan, lying on a bed with white sheets pulled up and staring at the ceiling, pondered over this thought.

A cool breeze blowing in through the window made him shiver, but his laziness kept him from pulling the sheet over himself. Stefan muttered under his breath: "Three months!"

Three months—that was all the time left for the exam, and he didn't feel ready at all. In the past, when he was younger and dumber, he hadn't realized the importance of studying or getting into this particular school. Now, his 15-year-old self had to clean up the mess left by his 13-year-old self.

Now he knew what he wanted. He was determined to join the law faculty—not because his parents wanted it, but because he had meddled so much in his father's cases that he'd grown to enjoy it.

He also knew this private school had the highest acceptance rate into top universities. His father was a prime example of its illustrious history. Of course, Stefan had to outperform his parents, who had achieved so much without the resources he now had, and secure a scholarship. That was obvious.

Obvious to everyone except one particular person. This person had a habit of opposing all Stefan's logical arguments or complaining about the times Stefan spent skipping lunch to study.

Stefan thought to himself that if this person ever found out he usually skipped breakfast too, they'd probably pull all their hair out.

For once, Stefan knew this person was right. Otherwise, instead of lying on a stiff bed in the nurse's office, he would still be sitting in English class.

Stefan was relieved that Vasil wasn't in class. It was the only one class where Vasil had managed to convince the teacher that his time was better spent in music class since his presence—or absence—made no difference. It was the only subject where he always scored full marks. His presence in other classes was equally pointless but for completely opposite reasons.

The shrill sound of the bell echoed throughout the room, and Stefan wished it wasn't time yet. Despite the awful stomachache, he enjoyed the silence here and didn't want to lose it so soon.

Besides, he didn't want to face Vasil recently.

He didn't like the way he felt around him.

And he liked even less that he didn't understand this feeling.

Barely three minutes after the bell had stopped ringing, the nurse's office door flew open with a loud bang. Stefan didn't even need to look away from the ceiling to know who had caused the commotion.

Vasil rushed to him so quickly that he skidded and nearly fell onto the bed. Stefan, having anticipated this, had already sat up to avoid getting squished by Vasil, who, to his surprise, was now taller than him.

From this close, it seemed like his hair was straighter too, but maybe that was because he combed it now.

Vasil looked up at Stefan, now sitting on the bed, leaned back like a startled cat , worry evident on his face.

"What happened to you?" Vasil asked.

He grabbed the edge of the bed, stood up, and sat down next to him. Stefan spaced out from him and pointed to the chair next to the bed.

"You know there's a seat for you there, right?"

Vasil rolled his eyes. "Are you here because there's a seat for me there?"

He smirked sarcastically and tilted his head to one side. "How kind of you!"

Stefan looked away from him. "I just wasn't feeling well."

Vasil said, "The others said it looked like more than just 'not feeling well.'"

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you talk to our classmates?"

Vasil replied, "Since I walked into class and saw you weren't there!"

Stefan, still feeling like his stomach was on fire, had no desire to argue, especially with someone as stubborn as Vasil. "I felt a bit better after the nurse gave me some medicine."

"It's your stomach, isn't it?"

"…."

"This isn't the first time, and it's been happening more often lately."

"…."

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

"…."

"Nothing? Really?"

"I didn't have much of an appetite."

"That's nonsense! Here!"

It was only now that Stefan noticed the wrapped sandwiches in Vasil's hands. He placed them on the bed in front of him.

"My mom packed lunch for you this time too!" Vasil said.

Stefan picked up one of the slightly squished sandwiches and opened it's wrapper. "Thank her for me," he said.

Vasil didn't say anything, just watched Stefan. When Stefan finally took a bite of his sandwich, Vasil opened his own food.

Stefan didn't tell Vasil that recently his stomachaches hadn't improved with food. There was no need for him to know. He simply ate his sandwich in silence, thinking it might be a good idea to see a doctor.

Vasil turned his attention back to him. "Is someone coming to pick you up?"

Stefan shook his head. "Both my parents are in court today. Even if I told them, they couldn't come."

Vasil didn't say anything, just nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. After swallowing, he said, "You should probably see a doctor!"

Stefan gave a short reply: "Okay."

A few more minutes passed in silence.

When Stefan finished his sandwich, crumpling the wrapper in his hands, he said, "We've wasted enough time as it is. We should start preparing for the exam."

Vasil replied with his mouth full, "What do you think we've been doing?"

"We haven't been studying."

Vasil sighed. "We've both been studying. You even more than me!"

"Not the way we need to for this exam."

"Does it make a difference?"

"Yes."

"…"

"I know it doesn't matter much to you. With a good performance, even if you just pass, you can get into the school. It's different for me."

"You're right."

Stefan looked at him in surprise. This might have been the first time they'd agreed about studying.

Vasil looked back at him and said, "The way things are, I probably won't even pass!"

Stefan stared at him silently. He was right. Vasil was terrible at all his subjects.

Leaning on his hand, Vasil said, "So what's your plan? We'll study more, right?"

Stefan thought for a moment. "Definitely, but if that were enough, we wouldn't have wasted the past year and a half."

Vasil nodded and fell into thought. "What if we studied together?"

"You mean staying at school longer?"

Vasil shook his head. "Not at school… If I stay, I won't be able to stop myself from going to music class!"

Stefan knew Vasil wasn't exaggerating. Over time, Vasil's passion for music hadn't faded—it had only grown stronger. In less than two years, he'd become an almost professional violinist, a feat not many could achieve.

But Vasil had done it.

"Then where?" Stefan asked.

Vasil thought for a moment. "What about your place?"

"Don't even think about it!" Stefan jumped up.

"What's the problem? I've been there before! You always say you're most comfortable at home!"

"Well… I just can't focus at home lately!" Stefan stammered.

It was partially true. It had been a problem for years, though Vasil didn't know that.

"What about my place?" Vasil suggested.

"Um…"

Stefan searched for an excuse but found none. Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine."

Vasil grinned. "URA!!!" (Russian for "Hooray!")

Stefan stared at him for a moment, then looked away. "Yeah, ura!"

This was the exact opposite of Stefan's plan to distance himself from Vasil, and he didn't like it at all.