Cronkri: I won't let you down

Chapter 1

This is the story of how I died.

I didn't expect it to happen like this, I never could've known that just one person could turn my life around in the way that he did.

The story begins one Sunday morning. I woke up, brushed my teeth, styled my brown curly hair, pulled on my favorite red turtleneck-- It was a Christmas present from my grandma-- and headed out the door with my younger brother Karkat and my dad. My mom used to go with us, until she passed away. Dad says not to talk about it. We sat in the front row of nicely cushioned seats to make the stage more accessible to Dad and me; he took his place in front of the microphone to preach while I played the keyboard during worship.
It was a normal Sunday morning service. Dad delivered his sermon on fear, the worship leader lead the singing as the worship band played, everyone payed attention, and we went home happy.

That Wednesday, after school, was worship band practice in the main room of the church building. I had to take the car and drive myself there after dropping Karkat off at his friend Sollux's house, causing me to be a couple minutes late, which I don't like making a habit of.
I parked the car and stuck the keys in my bag, speed walking across the parking lot, wary of the slick ice that was usually there around mid-January. When I tried running to the front door, I found an invisible patch of ice and slipped, falling backwards and flailing wildly. I braced for impact, but it never came. Instead, I was greeted by two strong arms holding me gently. I blushed out of embarrassment, but turned around to face this stranger.
"Okay there, chief?" he asked. His voice was low, deep, and somewhat New Jersey-ish.
I nodded in reply. "I'm fine, thank you." I paused to stare at his face a little longer. He had a nice complexion, kind of a light tan. His jawline was cut perfectly, as if he were carved from marble. His slicked-back, 1950's styled hair was jet black with a few short blond strands in the front.
He was beautiful. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you visiting from somewhere?" I tried to give him a small, encouraging smile. Our church is located in a not-very-well-populated area, so it's usually the same people in and out each week.
"Yeah, I just moved here from the Big Apple. I heard'cha church needed a new guitar player, and I never leave home without this beauty." He patted the guitar-shaped bag slung over his shoulder. "We better get inside though, don't want'cha slippin' like that again."
I nodded in agreement and held the door open for him, but he insisted I head in first.
"I actually play here, too... What did you say your name was again?"
My question was answered when Tavros, the bassist, called out to us in his squeaky voice from the stage across the room. "Hey, Kankri! And you must be Cronus, right? Here for the first practice?"
"Yessir I am!" Cronus called back. "Still need a lead guitarist?"
Tavros nodded. "You bet we do."
We walked up to the stage where Miss Rosa was practicing singing and Mr. Captor was fixing the sound.
I took my place behind the keyboard and turned it on to the proper settings.
The practice session started out when Miss Rosa and Gamzee, the drummer, gave Cronus a few practice sheets of music with lyrics and chords. He sang them all perfectly and played along in perfect rhythm, his fingers strumming the strings of the guitar so effortlessly. It was obvious he had been practicing for years. He was so talented, it was intoxicating just to watch him perform.

Once his song was over, everyone applauded his work and Tavros patted him on the back.
"You're in!"
Cronus made a celebratory fist pump. I still remember the overjoyed look on his face.
His beautiful, perfect face.