Scömìche One-Shots

Hallelujah

Scott's POV

I sigh, sliding back against the wall and sinking to the floor yet again. Seated with me are Alex and Kirstin, along with the rest of the school.

This was the third tornado lockdown this month. We were all lined up on the ground in the hallway, huddled as small as possible. It was silent, as if everyone had been afraid to even whisper. The only thing to break the silence was a small hum from down the hall.

More students shuffled in from other classes, piling into the hall and finding places to sit. Through the quiet clambering and humble chatter, the humming never ceased. It was joined by a deeper voice, and eventually tapping. I recognized the song they were humming. It was a classic Christmas song, one that was common throughout our private school. Especially now, since we've been learning it in choir.

Someone suddenly sat down across from me, I didn't recognize him. He didn't seem to talk as much as his classmates. He didn't talk at all, in fact. He was dead silent as the rest began to curl up against the walls. He hugged his knees to his chest, not daring to look up at the other students as they bumped into him.

Soon, it was again silent, the only exception being the vibrant humming from a few other students. More people began to join in on the tune, likely recognized by almost all students of the school. The kid in front of me glanced up, looking back to his lap almost as soon as he does.

"Hey, do you know anything about him?" I whisper to Alex, tapping him on the shoulder. He looks to me with confusion, then to the boy I'm gesturing to.

"He came in about three months ago, I think. He's considered the best student in choir by Mrs. Henderson, though I don't think any of us have heard him even speak. He's silent." Alex pauses, thinking for a moment. "His family is extremely religious. That's all I really know," he shrugs, turning to Kirstie to ask her if she knows anything more. His attempt is cut short as Kirstin begins humming to the song, joining the tens of students who are already humming. I shrug, feeling someone should break the ice sooner or later.

"I've heard there was a secret cord," I begin, smiling as startled eyes snap to me. "That David played, and it pleased the Lord," I peacefully sing, impressed with myself considering I had just gotten out of choir. My throat had felt raw, yet I think I sound okay. "But you don't really care for music, do you?" I continue.

"Well, it goes like this. The fourth, the fifth. The minor fall, the major lift," I gently sing the lyrics, doing my best to follow the choir arrangement. "The baffled king composing Hallelujah."

"Hallelujah," I sing, being joined by Kirstin and a bass. Everyone looks at us as if we just pulled a miracle, but continue to hum anyway.

"Hallelujah," we've gone into a rhythm, our tones harmonizing almost flawlessly. We carry out the next two Hallelujah's without a problem, a new sense of pride as we sing. The bass and Kirstin make a small beat to keep up the bridge of the song, a beatboxer joining in.

"Well your faith was strong, but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you," the bass's voice rings out, his voice unexpectedly smooth. "She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair, and from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah." He closes his eyes, singing with a passion not unknown to people like me.

The beat was continued through the song, creating a peaceful ambiance as he sang. Their voices wavered harmonically as he sang out the last hallelujah's of his assumed verse.

"Baby, I've been here before. I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. I used to live alone before I knew you," Kirstin's voice surprisingly rang out, the others creating a beautiful melody that many soon followed. "And I've seen your flag on the marble Arch. And love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah," she almost cried out, adrenaline evident in her voice. "Hallelujah," she broke up the word, her tone slowly dampening as she brings it down.

The hallelujah's were carried out with the soft hum and the pleasant beat created by the other students. The beatboxer was impressing everyone with his sudden involvement with the verse.

"Well maybe there's a God above," everyone was startled by the unfamiliar voice ringing out through the hall. A new silence took over the students throughout the school. I look forward, following the eyes of all the students, and meet the passionate singer that is the boy in front of me. The bass hums with the next line, prepared to continue the song. He's joined by the beatboxer, and together they impressively transition octaves and harmonize flawlessly.

"But all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you," he sang with passion, his eyes clenching tighter shut the higher his pitch is. His face is astonishing as he sings, his eyebrows knitting together before his expression softens and his hands clenching into fists and then relaxing. His cheeks are hollow as he sings, his cheekbones somehow more prominent. His lips perfectly form the words of the song, his voice capturing us all in a trance. By now, the four of us are singing along with him, the rest of the students seeming to be too shocked to join.

"And it's not a cry that you hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." Our voices enthusiastically join together, creating an almost breathtaking harmony as we all sing. Finishing out the hallelujah's and bringing the enthusiasm down to an appropriate conclusion for the song, we leave yet another silence to rest over the school after our practically thunderous singing. Some people have relaxed by now, but many still frozen in place. I stare at the boy, watching him retreat back to his mental comfort place. As soon as his eyes open, they look down and fixate onto his lap. He fiddles with his sleeves, probably nervous at the thoughts of others. In the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Henderson nudging another teacher with a proud look on her face.

We sat in comfortable silence, listening as one person clapped. He was soon followed by another, the noise multiplying as the applause ensued. I keep my eyes on the small boy, seeing a small smile grow on his face. One he's struggling to keep down.

"What the fuck was that?" Alex mutters as the clapping becomes almost deafening. Looking around, I see some teachers joining. The students surrounding us are clapping with an enthusiasm that brings a smile to my face. I look around, seeing everyone grinning and giggling with their friends.

"I don't know, but it was fun." Alex nods, somehow accepting that as an answer.

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This isn't really a one-shot, it's more of an apology. A lot of updates are coming soon, I've been working on them for a while. This was inspired by a video I found online of a group of students singing together in the hall during a lockdown. I might continue this if I want to make it about Scömìche, but for now it's just here to be here :)

-PS, I'm taking down the only one-shot containing smut (Seafood [4]) and putting it into an excerpts book tomorrow. Love you guys <3 updating very soon. Farewell for now 👋🏼