Day By Day: Scott Hoying x Reader Oneshots

Clouds

(Y/D/J)=Your dream job

"Look, that one looks like a rabbit on a unicycle."

"Now you're just making stuff up."

"Well what do you suggest it looks like?"

"A cloud."

"See, you're not even trying!"

You rolled your eyes as you lay in the grass, Scott right next to you.  Of all the things he had to suggest, watching the clouds was it. But, it was his day to choose an activity to do. Plus, he's your best friend; you'd do practically anything for him.

Even lay in surprisingly uncomfortable grass, watching condensed water vapor move at an excruciating rate of one inch per hour.

Scott pointed to another cloud. "That one looks like a zombie riding a horse."

Now you were sure he was making stuff up. "What? Ok, a horse, fine. But a zombie?"

He shrugged, still looking up. "I mean, that's what it looks like to me."

You stared at the cloud. No matter how hard you concentrated, you just couldn't see what he was seeing. Scott saw a picture, a unique image of its own. Individual splotches to create a monochrome painting on a blue canvas that seemed endless.

And all you saw was a cloud in the sky.

"How can you tell, it's a white blob!" you protested.

"You can't." Then he grinned. "But that's the beauty of this; cloud watching is subjective. One can be whatever you want it to be. With imagination, you can't be wrong."

You had an amused expression. "Are you saying I don't have an imagination?"

"It doesn't take a creative genius to figure it out," he replied. "But how would you know?"

The smirk disappeared off your face, and you fell silent. You felt a pang of annoyance. It was an offhand comment, and he wasn't trying to be rude. Besides, it's not like you two haven't gone back and forth like that before. What he said shouldn't have bothered you.

 You pointed to a cloud in the distance. "I think that cloud over there looks like a tree."

Scott turned his head towards you, his eyebrow quirked. "A tree?"

You met his gaze with a sardonic smile. "Yep. Tall and white, just like you."

He gave a short laugh. "Wow." Not even fazed a bit.

"Such a downer," he continued. "Y'know, there isn't any rain in the forecast. But who really needs it when we have you."

You rolled your eyes, despite your cheeks burning. "Okay Scott, I get it."

He kept going.  "Like, you have a habit of making the most fun things boring."

"I don't," you mumbled, crossing your arms.

It shouldn't have bothered you.

"Like the time that we went to the beach; you were complaining about the "high risk of heatstroke" and  "overpopulation." And then when we asked you if you wanted to swim, you listed every single disease and disgusting substance floating in the ocean, along with every creature within range that could hurt and/or kill you."

The sky could not have been more interesting at that moment.

"It's like you're trapped in this box, (Y/N). And no offense, it makes you kinda lame sometimes."

Shouldn't have bothered you...

"Okay, Scott!" you finally exploded. "Maybe I'm not the most creative person in the world; maybe I'm not the most artistic. But, y'know, that's why you went into singing and I didn't; that's why all those years you did theatre and I didn't. That's why everyone liked you and not me!"

"(Y/N)..."

"It's true, Scott!" You were on a roll, now.

You sat upright. "All throughout high school everyone liked you better. I was your best friend but did that matter to anyone? No. I was practically invisible. No one wanted to be friends with the 'know-it-all.' No one wanted to be associated with the 'brown-noser.' The school lead however? The cute guy with the incredible voice? That's who everyone wanted to be with. You got invited to parties, everyone wanted to sit with you at lunch. The only time anyone wanted me around was for answers to tests or a lab partner that'd do all the work for them."

Silence. Grass rustled. Birds chirped. Then,

"What kinds of clouds are there?"

He couldn't be serious right now. "What?"

"What kinds of clouds are there," he repeated.

It's like he hadn't even heard you. 

"Do you want to know why I asked?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because I don't know."

"Okay Scott, " you snapped. "You don't know what clouds there are, so wh--?"

"Stop. Hear me out." All trace of lightness was gone from his voice. He had sat up, now slightly towering over you.

He continued. "I don't know what clouds there are. But you do. I didn't have a solid career path. But you did. It was only by pure fate that I'm able to make a living like I do now. If not for Pentatonix, I would've been a struggling artist. But since high school, you knew exactly what you wanted to do. And now you're going to school, studying to be a (Y/J). I dropped out after a year.

"(Y/N), you're one of the smartest people I know. You know all these facts that no one else does, and I don't take you intelligence for granted. I was joking, but maybe I shouldn't have called you lame, and for that I'm sorry. But sometimes, you miss the point of why we hang out and do these things. Have fun; you don't have to look at what's right in front of you. You see what I'm saying?"

You shrugged, picking at the grass beneath you. You wanted to stay mad at him. But you knew there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Hey."

You glanced at him, and was immediately met by a pair of bright blue eyes that locked with yours.

Scott spoke softly. "Out of those friends I had in high school, I talk to maybe two of them now? But you're still my best friend, right?"

You nodded.

"And I would easily take you over them." He gave a small smile, which you returned.

Silence, but more like the good kind.

Scott suddenly spoke up, "By the way, you never answered my question; what kind of clouds are there?"

You had to laugh. "You were actually asking me? Well, there are cumulus clouds, and stratus clouds, and cirrus clouds. And there are huge storm clouds like cumulonimbus clouds and nimbostratus clouds..." You trailed off, as you suddenly had a thought. "You know, clouds are a lot like people. Some predict good days, others are low level, and some even predict 'bad weather'. And then there are some that continuously rain on you, or shift around and change their 'shape'."

Scott was looking at you with an expression you couldn't read. "So just out of curiosity, what kind of cloud would I be?"

You thought for a moment. Then you had an answer. "None of them."

"None? Why?"

You stared right into those deep blues. "Because clouds come and go, but friends stay till the very end."