While most of the team had left early in the morning for souvenir shopping and sightseeing, Kenji stayed behind with the others in the lobby. Eric and Daniel were across from him on the couch, Daniel's legs propped on the table. Eric appeared to be on a video call with his girlfriend, Izzy,  judging from the lovesick grin on his face as he chatted. 

As Kenji shoved his legs off the table like the mother hen he was, Daniel asked, "What did you need to grab?"

"I was going to hit up the flower shop for a bouquet."

"A bouquet?"

I nodded. "Yeah, roommate's concert is today."

Kenji tilted his head. "Ah, Ethan, was it?"

"Yeah."

"But why a bouquet?" Daniel asked.

"I always used to get him one back in high school," I said. "It started as a fun little joke but became a ritual."

While true that it started as a joke when we first started dating, I thought it was only fair to give him a bouquet for his performances. It was the least I could do for dragging him to my games in high school. 

"They've got flower shops around?"

"Yeah, a few blocks down." I held up my phone. "Maybe a ten, fifteen-minute walk."

"We've got nothing better to do," Daniel said. "Might as well join you for the day."

"We could stop by some shops if you want to buy something for Izzy," Kenji told Eric.

Eric nodded. "She did say she'd love a snow globe for her collection. Hopefully, some tourist stand has one. If not, I'll just buy one of those obnoxious NYC shirts."

Daniel scoffed, looking down at the shirt he bought when he first arrived that said, 'I heart NYC.' "Rude."

Eric punched his arm playfully. "Come on, can they make it any bigger?"

Daniel scoffed. "Don't judge me; it's my first time in New York, alright?"

Kenji rolled his eyes before turning to me. "What time's the concert? I think Marco was interested in going."

"Our Marco?" Daniel said. "First baseman—who exclusively listens to EDM—Marco?"

"No, Marco Polo, dumbass," Eric said. "Of course, our Marco. Just because he always goes to raves doesn't mean he can't listen to classical music. He has two classical music playlists when he needs to study."

"Marco was considering it when he saw a flyer down the street," Kenji said. "He said he'd go if someone else went with him, so I looked into it. The Berklee showcase, right?"

I nodded. "You coming to the concert too? I can spot your tickets."

Kenji considered it, glancing at Eric and then Daniel. "Actually, that's a solid idea. I'll text the team."

Daniel paled. "The entire team?"

Eric grinned. "What? It's not like we're going to be practicing. And Felipe does not need another night out drinking. Remember last night? We'll drag the others."

While rejecting the idea first came to mind, the fact that they didn't mind the idea of seeing an orchestra was enticing. Plus, it would all support Ethan, or second-handedly, anyway. And if Ethan didn't appreciate a bouquet from me, I could say it was from the entire team.

After browsing the selection of flowers and pre-arranged bouquets on display, I finally settled on one of the more elaborate ones featuring red roses, carnations, and a few called Lady's Mantle. After explaining the occasion for a bouquet to the florist, she smiled and said she'd add a few extra touches free of charge. I thanked her, watching as Eric and Daniel seemed busy looking at the larger bouquet and guessing the prices. I gave the florist an apologetic smile at their silly antics as she handed the bouquet back to me. 

"Thank you, and I hope he loves it," she said, sliding me the card with Ethan's name in her fancy script. I tucked it into the bouquet, glad she offered to write my note instead, especially given how delicate and pretty her handwriting was compared to mine.

Kenji rolled his eyes at Eric, who narrowly avoided tipping another display over as he strolled toward me. "Hey, Cam." 

"Cap," I said, watching Kenji waving Eric and Daniel away from the expensive box before they accidentally knocked it over. They finally obliged and headed out the door, leaving us two alone. "What's up?"

Kenji wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me away from the counter. "Just thought I'd talk to you privately."

"Privately?" This couldn't be good. Did Kenji and our coach decide to bench me?

"It's not about champs," he said as if he read my mind. "It's about Ethan."

"Oh."

"Nothing bad, I promise." Kenji scratched the back of his head, but it did nothing to ease my anxiety. I couldn't possibly think of why Kenji couldn't have just said it in front of the rest of the team.

"What about Ethan?"

"You said you two were close, right?" he asked as we left the florist shop, the other two out of earshot.

I nodded. "We were best friends."

"And you've been giving him bouquets to his concerts?" he added. 

Again, I nodded. "What's this about?"

Kenji sighed. "Look, I know this is probably weird of me to say and bring up, but it's pretty obvious to me, and I'm sure Eric and Daniel probably know or sense something as well."

"Know what?"

Kenji blinked. "It's pretty obvious that there's something between you and Ethan. And you don't have to tell me or anyone else, and we won't say anything either. But if it's true, that's totally fine, and we support you. You seem to care about him, obviously."

I had no idea what to say. 

"Look," Kenji continued. "As captain, I'm pretty good at reading everyone's tells, especially since I've known most of you for years. It's kind of a skill I need to ensure this team works, right? Both on and off the field. And if I haven't been obvious myself, it's not like I've done my share of experimenting, alright? I'm pretty sure most of us have at some point in our lives, and there's nothing to be ashamed about. Eric is out, and we all love him. Whether you choose to be open about it or not, we love you, Cam. But I can tell that Ethan means a lot more to you than just a friend."

I bit my lip. "Ethan and I used to date," I admitted. "It was back in high school, and there, I was out—I've never purposely tried to hide who I was. And I won't be with you and the team. I made that clear to Coach."

"I know, and you don't have to tell the team about you and Ethan, for the record. Just know that many of them—me included—are nosy as all hell."

I laughed. "Why do you think I only came out to you and Coach? Half the guys would try to hook me up with Eric."

Kenji faked a gag. "Gross. Besides, Izzy is good for him. Keeps him grounded."

"Ethan was my Izzy," I found myself saying, holding the bouquet tighter to my chest. 

"Sorry, man." He pressed his lips into a thin smile. "How long?"

"We dated for three to three and a half years, depending on what you'd call dating. Personally, it felt like longer." The memories of us skirting around the term boyfriend resurfaced. "We broke up after graduation."

"You or him?"

I gulped. "He broke it off. But I don't know. It was just so sudden and unexpected. He didn't really give me a reason why."

Kenji hummed. I mentioned how Ethan dodged the question of why last night and how I may have used the opportunity of Ethan not having a hotel room so I could selfishly find out. To which I still felt terrible in hindsight. 

Kenji slapped his hand against my back. "Cheer up, isn't it good that he agreed to room with you? I don't think whatever you two had could truly be over if he agreed to stay with you. You think I'd want to stay with one of my exes?"

"No," I said, remembering how awful Kenji's last girlfriend was. "God, she was awful. What did Eric use to call her? Toxic Roxie?"

"Exactly." Kenji sighed. "And Cam? I think there's a good chance that you two could resolve whatever happened."

I made a face. "That's if Ethan feels the same. I won't push him to do anything he doesn't want. I think I'm already stepping on his toes by sharing a hotel room and attending his concert."

"Of course," Kenji said. "I get it if he doesn't feel the same, but from what I can tell, it appears you two still have that chemistry. I saw how he was looking at you in the lobby."

As much as I wanted to deny it and tell Kenji to stop putting these optimistic thoughts in my head when there was no guarantee of what Ethan felt, I couldn't help but hope it was a fact. 

"Just be there for him," Kenji added. "Regardless if he still likes you, showing up and supporting him would be nice. Show him that you still care and wish him the best."

"Thanks, Cap."

"I should be thanking you. This is more entertaining than that bachelor show Roxie tried to get me into." Kenji elbowed me. "By the way, does this concert have a dress code? I don't think any of us brought suits."

"Shit, I didn't even think about that; I should look it up."

It turns out neither of us had to wear suits, but about half the team assumed that business casual meant full three-piece suits and shiny loafers. Kenji and I had been sensible enough to wear actual business casual attire, with a polo and a nice jacket. 

But as the twenty of us made our way to Alice Tully Hall, we quickly realized we were largely outdressed for the occasion. Only a handful of other guests wore suits and ties, the vast majority in casual wear. 

To say that we stood out was an understatement. It didn't help that many of us were above 6 feet and built like tanks. I don't think most college baseball teams attended music halls, and judging from the stares from people around us as we made our way to our seats made, it was quite obvious. With the extravagant bouquet in hand, I sat between Kenji and Eric, feeling the same fluttering feeling as we waited for the orchestra to start.

Ethan was in front on the left side of the conductor, tuning his instrument while the rest of the orchestra seemed to be practicing. I couldn't imagine how nervous he felt in front of the crowd, especially considering it was surprisingly full for a showcase. Yet, he looked composed in his sleet gray suit. His hair was gelled back, and he wore a red bowtie, most likely symbolizing Berklee's official colors. And yes, I looked it up.

I couldn't help but remember all his concertos in high school, of all the times that Ethan had gotten the soloist role or had been first chair (mainly to offer other students the opportunity to be a soloist). It was obvious that Ethan was of a different caliber to most of his peers; his skills at violin and understanding music, in general, were something I couldn't begin to understand. 

And here he was, playing at the collegiate level as a soloist. There was no doubt in my mind that he could play professionally if he chose to. Ethan dreamed of being a music teacher, but I wouldn't put it past orchestras reaching out and begging him to audition. 

The orchestra quieted as Alan, their professor, stepped out from the wings. The house lights dimmed, lighting the spotlight on him and the conductor. 

"Welcome, thank you for attending Berklee College of Music's showcase," Alan announced. "Tonight, we'll perform a medley of romantic-era songs composed by Antonín Dvořák, including Romance in F minor, featuring Ethan Wong as our soloist."

Alan announced the other songs they'd be performing, but my mind was too focused on Ethan to hear him; it had been years since I heard him play, and I couldn't wait.