My name is TheViolaBuddy; it was bound to happen eventually that I would write a fic about the viola.

Viola Pride

I woke up to a scratchy high-pitched tone coming from beyond the wall behind my head. I sat up in my bed, frowning. What was that?

…Wait, that room next to mine was Present Me's room.

Jumping out of bed and throwing on my priest's robe, I exited my room into the castle hallway. Ignoring a few of the servants that gave me an odd look, I turned to the door next to mine and opened it.

I immediately winced at the noise, instinctively bringing my hands to my ears. "Yo, Present Brady!" I yelled out. "Stop breakin' my ears off with that ruckus!"

The scratching sound immediately broke off, letting me relax my hands. Instead, I stepped calmly into the room, closing the door behind me. "No offense, kid, but I'd prefer it if ya'd try to practice when I'm not tryin' to sleep."

My six-year-old self in slightly too-big clothes looked up at me innocently. "…What? Other Brady, I…" And with that, tears started welling up in his eyes and I immediately felt bad. I mean, this little guy was me; I should have known that if someone started yelling at me, I would cry.

"Brady," I said carefully. "I didn't mean to—"

"Bug off!" Present Me said. "Just 'cause I ain't a good violist yet doesn't mean I'm not workin' at improvin'!" He sharply turned away from me and sat down frustratedly on his bed.

…Ouch. The kid's really starting to become just like me in his manner of speaking. "Brady, this ain't about how good you or I can play… I mean, ya just started learnin' to play viola a few weeks ago; of course ya ain't gonna be a virtuoso at it already. It's—"

"Shut up, Brady!" Present Me shouted, still facing the other way. "Even if you are some super-awesome world-class violinist and I'm gonna be you someday, that doesn't mean I have to be a super-awesome world-class violinist, too!"

I paused. "Wait, what? You don't even play the violin; you play viola."

"Can it! I don't have to deal with you! Just 'cause you're a high an' mighty violinist, that doesn't mean you can look down upon my choice of instrument! I… I mean, if I can't be as good as you on violin, I might as well try a different instrument, right? I gotta prove it to Ma that I can please her as much you did."

"Hold on a moment, Present Brady," I said. "You're just doin' this to please Ma?"

Present Me was silent, and I approached him, sitting down next to him on his bed. His face was red with embarrassment, I could see now. "Present Brady, I know you as well as ya know yourself—"

"Oh really?" he snapped. "How would ya understand why I chose to play the viola instead o' the violin? Ya ain't never needed to live up to your own future self like I do! If I chose the violin, I'd just continue livin' in yer shadow!"

I was stunned by that sentence for a moment. I was causing Present Me to be insecure? "Brady," I said slowly, making an effort to speak properly for emphasis, "you do comprehend that we are not actually the same person, right? I can tell you for certain that Mother and Father do not continuously try to compare you to me. They are proud of you for your achievements by their own merit, independent of—"

"But ya see?" Present Me interrupted. "You can even talk in that fancy-pants way that Ma's always tryin' to make me speak, when I can't even get my tongue around the words! Even in stuff as simple as talkin', ye'r still better than me!"

"Oh, come on!" I snapped. "I don't think it's Ma and Pop who're comparing you to me; it's just you! Be proud of what you can already do now!"

"Like what? I can't do anything better than you! You're bigger and stronger than me, you're a better musician—a world-renowned one, even—you can heal injuries almost perfectly as a priest, you can defend yourself with a variety of weapons effectively, and you can even talk like Ma wants us to talk like!"

I sighed. "You're doin' what I was just sayin'. You keep comparin' yourself to what I can do, when I'm more than twenty years older than you. You think I didn't start out like you did?"

"As I said, ya didn't need to worry about an alternate self!"

"And you don't, either, Present Brady!" I yelled, standing up in frustration. "Can't ya get that through your head? Look, if there's one thing that I'd wanna tell myself if I could travel back in time—and I guess what? I did!—would be to not care about what others think of you. Ma'll be proud of you, regardless of how ya compare to anyone else, including me. And when others start mockin' you 'bout how ya speak or act or dress, just ignore them! It ain't worth it to change for them. Y'ought to be proud of yourself, no matter what!"

Present Me looked down, not daring to meet my gaze. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt—I just made him cry again, didn't I? I should've said all that a little more softly.

But when Present Me spoke up again, his voice did not waver, though he spoke slowly. "Other Brady, are ya bein' serious?"

"Absolutely!" I said emphatically, sitting back down. "Look, if there's one thing I've learned about violists, it's that they're proud of their instrument. The viola ain't just a knock-off violin or a pint-sized cello or anythin' like that. It's its own, separate instrument—it even uses its own clef and everythin'! Maybe ya oughta be more like a lot of the violists I've met and just be proud of what you can do on viola, regardless of what others can do on the violin. After all, even though ya say that ya chose the viola just to be different from me, and that you were practicin' so early in the morning just to get better than me, I bet ya truly enjoy playin' viola."

Present Me was silent for a good moment, thinking. Finally, he looked up at me and said, "I guess ya ain't wrong, Other Brady. Maybe I oughta just focus on myself a little more." He sighed. "…I'm sorry fer snappin' at you earlier. Thanks for talkin' to me about this."

I smiled and patted him on the head. "No problem. As I said, I went through a lot of self-doubt myself, an' I can only imagine how much worse it is for you, with me around."

For a moment, we just sat in silence. Then, glancing at his viola that still lay on his bed, I got an idea. "Ya know, Present Brady, I think there's somethin' we might want to consider. The violin and the viola go well together, ya know. Maybe if we form a two-Brady music group, we could play duets. People would stop comparin' us to each other, and instead focus on how well we as a pair can play."

Present Me's eyes widened slightly and he smiled. "Really? You'd let me play with you? I'd love to!" With that, he gave me a little hug before hopping off the bed and grabbing his viola. "All right, then, let me practice an' get better at viola. But don't worry; I ain't practicin' just to be good enough to play with you; I'm practicin' 'cause, as ya said, I oughta be proud of the fact that I play viola."

I smiled back at Present Me as I exited his room, giving him the space to do what he loved.

Published February 16, 2014