I saw Tawney's Christmas/New Years OneShot Challenge and the plot bunnies attacked. not a real original title I know but its 3am what do you expect. read, review, make me happy.
The young man shivered and pulled his coat closer around him as he stood waiting for the light to change. All around him were: mothers dragging their protesting children shopping for presents, people in business suits dashing out on their lunch breaks to pick up the perfect last minute gifts, Salvation Army Santa Claus' ringing their bells and asking for a tithing, and across the street in a square were a group of carolers currently in the middle of a jazzed up rendition of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen". The light finally changed and he dashed across the street with the crowd. Pausing briefly, noticing that despite the holiday feel in the air he was the only one to stop, he threw a twenty into the dish laying at the carolers feet before continuing down the street to his destination.
About twenty minutes later, having been stopped by a group of squealing girls that "couldn't believe they were really meeting him" and signing some autographs and posing for some pictures, he finally reached it. His haven during the holidays when he was home. Most people would probably fall over if they ever found out that he spends a bit of free time at Christmas time when he's able to at this place--St. Jude's.
The young man stared up the steps at the large structure, truly a magnificant site anyone would have to admit, before quickly ascending them and coming to a stop at the large old oak doors. Grabbing onto the doors he gave a tug and headed into the narthax. Stone walls surrounded him, ensconed in them were the beautiful stained glass windows that portrayed various biblical scenes. Taking a deep breath the young man reached up and yanked off the wool hat that had been pulling double duty to keep both the cold out and keep him incognito (although that hadn't worked quite so well) and revealed messy short dark brown hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to take in every single thing around him without missing a beat. The young man walked forward stopping to cross himself with the holy water in the stoup by the doors leading into the nave of the church. His breath hitched slightly in his throat as it did every time he stepped into this building, esspecially around this time of year.
Candles were lit all around, an advent wreath was displayed proudly on the chancel just to the right of the alter, beautiful poinsettias and holly seemed to be everywhere, and soft organ music bounced off of every corner displaying the beautiful acoustics of the room. As he walked down the center isle the soft lighting of the church revealed our hero to be none other then Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third. The young man stopped about halfway down the isle and genuflected slightly awkwardly while sliding into a pew and throwing his hat and scarf next to him before shedding his coat and allowing it to join the other two garments. Pete slowly exhaled as he leaned back in the pew and glanced around him. This man didn't come here to pray, although he would never disturb those who did. No, he came here to listen. He sat there for about twenty minutes just listening to the organ master warm up and play soft hymns, eventually though a subtle smile, so unlike his usually forced exhuberant one, crossed Pete's face as he saw the reason he came here at least once a year walk up to the lectern.
Pete didn't know her name. He didn't know how old she was. He didn't care. He wasn't interested in anything about her except her voice. As far as he was concerned she was one step down from an angel when she sang. The canter for the midnight mass on Christmas Eve and this was when she rehearsed. The soft opening notes of "O Holy Night" filled the church preceeding the most beautiful soprano voice this man had ever heard. This man who was surrounded by music every day of his life, this man who most would probably tell you was a cynical, jaded, obnoxious, full of himself twit, this was his favorite thing to listen to once a year. This one piece of music was enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, everything else in life was worth putting up with. If only to hear something like this. This was enough to make even a jaded cynic like Pete Wentz believe in something. Even if just for a mere five minutes.
As the difficult melody wove on Pete felt his smile grow and as the young woman reached that pinnical note at the end of the song. The most important "Noel" in the song, and anyone who has ever heard the song knows exactly what Pete was impressed with, seemed to fill the entire church as the organ master stopped playing for just those few seconds. As her final note trailed off Pete opened his eyes and watched as she started shuffling through papers on the lectern. Making notes to herself as to where she needed to re-work bits and pieces of whatever sounded off to her, and sounded perfect to everyone else. Standing up and rebundling himself into his coat and scarf, he stuffed his hat into the pocket of his jacket and genuflected again, this time not nearly as awkwardly before turning and heading back up the isle towards the back of the church. Stopping to light a candle and say a generic prayer for anyone and everyone he loves in his life Pete continued back into the narthax. Pulling an envelope out of his pocket he slipped it into the tithing box at the very back of the church right before heading out the doors and back into the brittle Chicago air and heading quickly down the steps of the church once again.
Pete glanced behind himself once more before pulling his hat down over his hair and eyes again and with a deep breath turned and started the trek back to the parking garage a few streets over where he had left his car. His yearly Christmas mission was over once again and he could head home with a more relaxed view on the upcoming year. Because for just a half hour he hadn't had to think of anything other then those that he cares about and the joy and beauty of the season and all that it brings.
O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining.
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices!
Oh night divine! Oh night when Christ was born!
Oh night divine! Oh night! Oh night divine!
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother,
and in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his holy name.
Christ is the lord, that ever, ever praise we.
Noel! Noel! Oh night;oh night divine!
Noel! Noel! Oh night; oh night divine!
Noel! Noel! Oh night; oh night divine!
A/N: Dear Reader, if you hated that, I'm not really all that sorry. I grew up in a religious household and I kind of wrote this story from my perspective as something I do each and every year. I'm a NY'r though and I dunno any Chicago churches so I basically stuck my church into the middle of downtown Chicago--creative license and all. Also, I decided to challenge myself even more and write it from Pete's perspective...which is a big deal for me as I don't like that boy very much (if at all it seems like sometimes) so yea. Lemme know what you think. This is the first thing I've written by myself in quite sometime.