The cathedral was a towering fixture, spiraling so far into the sky that Simon found himself growing dizzy. To the young primary school choir boys, the building was infinite and never ending. The group, lead by their eldest, a headstrong ginger, held boys feeling varying level of nerves.
This was their first time performing.
Though they'd practiced with each other in school, they'd never gone to publicly show their melodic voices. The youngest member, a boy by the name of Henry, was clinging to the back of Simon's draping cloak as they walked along in two perfect rows nervously. Even the head boy, who usually seemed to be bursting with pride over his flawless C-Sharp walked carefully, clearly out of his element.
The second eldest of the group, a humorful tan boy called Maurice, was attempting to lighten the mood with a poor show of goofiness, and received responses varying from glares to nervous smiles. The negative reception didn't seem to deter him, his grin only widening and his mouth running ever faster. He'd gained a reputation as the unabashed and protective older sibling of the group, the head boy holding strong the role of a strict mother. After being shushed by the aforementioned head boy, Maurice mumbled a half-hearted apology with a smile, and the congregation lulled into quiet.
The sounds of footfalls and nervous murmuring echoed painfully as they marched to their destination, to the centre of the establishment.
Simon felt himself growing faint with fear and he swayed a bit in his step, looking to the high ceiling for any sign of familiarity.
As if in tune with his thoughts, Maurice slid over to him, out of his set position in formation, the movement corrected by a grumbling Robert.
His deeper voice hummed in consideration, grasping for ways to ease his choirmate's nerves. Before long, his hand slipped from under his long black cloak to grasp Simon's reassuringly.
Despite Simon's suspicions of an attack happening soon, he found himself becoming more grounded with the delicate grip encompassing his hand.
