Chapter Text
Lots of people were religious on this side of the country, this side of the country side. Whether they be German, Mexican, Black, White, oh damn, possibly even the Hawaiians were religious. So in short, most were religious, thus, the people take pride in the church they have near their small, private home named none other than ‘Yawnee Valley’
Yawnee Valley. An interesting place, but for the wrong reasons. It’s not filled with wonders, no ambitions could ever come from here, nothing could keep your attention span long than six seconds. Unless, you were interested in cows. Most people weren’t. So for what reason would someone like to live here? Well the answer seems to be unknown, either every single organism here is a masochist or maybe they truly were interested in cows. Who’s to say they’re not?
Needless to say, Yawnee Valley isn’t very colorful. It seems that it’s more like a vandalism happened, lazily caused by drunk teens. But like previously said, most people only like living here for the cows. Most people don’t like cows. Or, you could be a frequenter or even a member at the church. Which, most people are.
Most people are religious, most people are frequenteres at the church. So if you don’t like cows, maybe you like religion. Which is exactly what one mother of a moody son loved. Ok, well she may not have loved religion, but she did take pride in it and she followed the traditions, whatever those traditions were. And as for her son, well he never really cared, and he couldn’t care less about the church, and the new boring kids. Besides he had to leave his best friends. How would you feel if you were stripped away from your friends only for it to be replaced by religion, and weird, boring adults and kids?
Well, Maybe you might have liked it, but he didn’t. He had a moody face the whole way there, he said nothing, even when they stopped to eat. Even when they stopped to look at a couple stores, not even when he almost got to keep the cat when they stopped at one destination. His face was glum. To which his mother tried to cheer him up, it probably did not work. “Oh come on sweetie, this is a new start for the both of us! Can you please try to see the benefits of this? Come on, show me a smile.” He did try for about six seconds. After that he gave up.
So now they’re almost to their new home. The home seeming of sunshine for the sad youngster’s oh so joyful mother, and seeming like doom for the mother’s angsty, oh so miserable son. While on the way they had seen the church, to his mother’s liking “Oh! Look sweetie! Maybe if they have a choir you could join it!” He didn’t want to do choir, he did band. His mother had signed him up for an orchestra. He didn’t care for any, at least passionately. Except for band. People had complimented him for his skill in instruments, whether it be orchestra or band, or even choir. But he still was never fond of orchestra or choir. But even then, it’s not like he absolutely hated the choir or the orchestra, he never had a reason to quit. So he didn’t. As for band, he signed up for that on his own.
“Mhm.” Is all he said. The young child did get one upside to the move. Band. Specifically, jazz band. His beloved baritone saxophone. Half of it was his saved up money and the other half his mother payed for, a true example for teamwork makes the dream work. “Oh, I’m sure it would be great don’t you think? Maybe your new school will have a band! New school, new you, your birthday is coming up maybe you could make some friends and hang out with them on your birthday!” His mother is always exited about his birthday it’s nice, he would turn fifteen soon, but he was sure there would be only strange kids. In this new strange place “Mom, I’m pretty sure you can’t be in three music programs.” “We can just sign up for an outside one, no?” Her son sighed, he assumed his mother would sign him up for the choir in the church. He hoped to god, and praying to god is saying quite a bit for him, he wouldn’t have to sing at a church. He figured it might have been bad that he didn’t exactly care to be religious. No it’s not like he didn’t believe in god, not that he thought that god existed, he just never cared. So, he didn’t exactly feel like singing hallelujah to everyone at the church, especially when hallelujah wasn’t necessarily religious. And especially when he, the angsty, miserable son, wasn’t all religious himself.
And, besides, he hadn’t come here for a fresh start. He hadn’t come here to be a talented, prodigy, music kid at all. He did not come here to be a religious choir boy. He had not come here to be a good boy. Because it was always his honor, to be good and be bad. He would always disrupt, but he would never destroy. He would embarrass the dour, to amuse the merry. He devoted his mind only to his japers, capers, shenanigans, and monkey business. To prove to the world, it is always better to be upside down. Because he, Miles Murphy. Is only a prankster.
So, he will do just that. For now, he has to live through the dread of a new school, cacophony sound of the bands, religion, and a church. It should be a fun place to disrupt to his liking. “Sweetie, we’re here!” The youngster was disrupted from his daydreams, unfortunately so. So now he’s looking at his new home, not sure whether to love it or loathe it. But as soon as the young boy walks in, unpacks, luckily has his bed, he falls asleep thinking of the doom that is yet to come.
The next day is Sunday.
Sunday. People go to church this day. So Miles Murphy is unexpectedly woken up by his mother, dragged into nice clothes which he surprisingly has, and they head off to church. Still shocked, his hair was barely combed, he look stoned and wide awake at the same time. “Sorry for waking you up like that sweetie, I just wanted to get a new feeling for the church, you understand right?” He didn’t really, but he never really said what he meant. He nodded his head. “Oh, thank you, I promise once we’re done with this you can go back to sleep immediately.”
Miles figured this new church would be just as boring as it always was. Regular praying. Regular sitting. Regular sleepiness. And regular cold air. Make sure you do not forget the choir. Only thing different about this choir was that, well, Miles simply thought it was not all that bad. Of course, he wasn’t going to join it, he had better things to do. At least that’s what he thought.
When his mother said, and I quote. “Oh thank you, I promise as soon as we’re done with this you can go back to sleep immediately.” Meant that he would have to join the choir somehow. So, he has to join the choir. As everyone is waltzing out of the church, he heads to two of the choir kids. Either his age or older. Both fairly tall, one with the skin color of burnt bronze. The other, well, he… he was white, or pale. One has hair slightly past the shoulder, thin, blonde hair that’s pulled into a bun and blue eyes, while the other has long, puffy, dark brown hair pulled into pigtails with brown eyes. One has a smile plastered on their face, the other seems to be dreading everything. They seem to be friends.
“No, that is absurd you do not just toss the pig, you have to throw it at a somewhat sideways angle.” It seems like the blonde one disagreed with something . “First of all this is hypothetical, real world situations do not apply to hypotheticals. Also that’s not how aerodynamics work.” “It does not matter if it is hypothetical, in order to gain the right statistics of the throw you have to add real world details to this certain situation-“ “uh, hello-” The duo kept talking, it seemed they couldn’t hear him. What a shame. “No, you wouldn’t need to add real world problems to hypothetical-“ “uh, hi!” He, Miles Murphy, may have spoken too loud.
The choir kids all looked at him. They looked at him with inquisitiveness, disgust, boredom, annoyance. Whatever it is, they all faced him. Within thirty seconds they had all surrounded him, although the duo he was talking to hadn’t. They all intruded the young trouble maker with remarks and questions. “Who are you?” “How long have you been around here?” “Why are you so bruised?” That one came with a poke, they poked a sensitive bruise somewhere on his chest. “Ow! I could answer those questions if you gave me a chance! Hey stop I’m just trying to ask-” Soon enough the duo heard the ruckus and headed over.
“Do you think there is a fight.” “Hopefully not.” The duo trotted with rhythm and in perfect sync. “Oh, seems you were right there is a fight.” As they head over to the crowd they see the youngster, Miles, surrounded by a mob. The dark haired one turned to the blonde. “Should we do something.” It was more of a remark than a question, “I suppose we should, after all, fist fights shouldn’t have to be witnessed by god.” “Ok. Be quiet.”
“Ok everyone settle down. Ok stop- I said settle down.” Everyone stopped at the seemingly magical words. The duo got everyone to calm down, and they were waiting for his next words. “I see we have a new comer, allow me to introduce myself! I am Niles Sparks. And the girl is Holly. Holly Rash.” The choir boy, supposedly Niles held out his hand for Miles to take, with a smile plastered on his face. He truly looked like a follower of god.
Miles looked at him for a moment. Suspicious of the gesture, but eventually he shook it. “I see you’ve met the choir, and I see they welcomed you with amazing hospitality!” “Uh, if you want to call it that, sure,” A quick bit of silence was hoped for by Miles, it felt strange being surrounded by people that could easily be used as pawns for God. Of course, Miles hadn’t come here for small talk, in fact he was trying to make this interaction as short as possible. “Uhm. So, my mom wants me to join the choir.” “Oh! Do you have experience with chorus?” “Mhm.” “Ok well even then you still need an audition, sorry! If you would like I could get our conductor to try to arrange a date for your audition?” Maybe he could try and buy his way out of this situation, unfortunately his mother would find out regardless. Due to the fact they go to church every Sunday and seeing her son not in the choir. That could possibly reveal his secret.
Miles internally exhaled, and nodded. He had no choice, he may as well surrender while he can, because if he doesn’t his mother will sign him up for any choir. Even if it’s out of town. “Great! It will be nice to have another recruiter, don’t you think, Holly?” Holly nodded at the Niles.
Miles had already started to dread the choir. He dreads the conductor. He dreads church. He dreads the tall, pretty choir boy, with a bun and acne which makes him look like a deceased rat. He dreads the straight faced, bored, Holly. And he dreads God. Fortunately, Miles Murphy will not surrender without revenge.