Jeff slammed the door to the dance hall shut behind him and dropped his bag to the ground, kicking it across the floor and watching as it slid over to the far wall. He was still in Nick's clothes and he wanted nothing more than to get out of them. He didn't deserve them. They still smelt like the other boy, like safety and home. Those were things Jeff would never have, would never deserve to have. He unzipped the hoodie and threw it away, not caring where it landed. He did the same with the sweat pants, leaving him in just his boxers and wife beater. For the first time he walked up to the wall of mirrors, holding a hand up to it to touch its reflection as he took himself in. He looked disgusting. Scars and burns and bruises littered his skin. Most noticeable of all was the line of parallel lines running up both arms. He knew that if he turned around he'd see the marks from the lashes his father had given him. He didn't want to, though. He could still feel the sting each time he moved, knew it wouldn't take much to break them open again. He didn't care though. Let them open, let the blood flow. He deserved it.

He walked over to the speaker system set up in the far wall, the only sound the soft pad of his shoes against the smooth dance floor. He took out his ipod and set it on loop. There was only one song he wanted to dance to right now, one song that described him right now. Everyone thought that he was this happy go lucky guy, no one would ever suspect how broken he really was. He plugged the ipod in and walked to the centre of the floor to wait for it to start. As soon as it did, his body started moving. At first it was just simple steps in time to the instrumental intro that would later carry throughout the whole song. Then the words started.

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord,
But you don't really care for music, do you?

He started moving around the floor now, making use of the space and getting a feel for it. He just needed to get used to the building, feel comfortable in it before he let anything out. And he had so much he needed to let out. On the last line he did a minor spin, reaching out for something he couldn't quite name before pulling back into himself. Like he always did. Because putting the real you out there meant getting hurt.

It goes like this: the fourth the fifth

He spun around, faster on each number, just letting himself lose control for a moment before spinning down to the floor in a crumpled position. But he had control of every piece of his body at that moment. When he was broken the most. Because he was the one who did it to himself, he could control it.

The minor fall, the major lift

From his crumpled position his extended one leg, then the other into the air so that only his torso was still on the floor. He let them stay there for a moment before bringing them down and using that momentum to carry him back into an upright position and into a leap. He used that to go into a series of spins, not even bothering to spot anymore. He knew it was sloppy, but he didn't care if he got dizzy or not. Maybe he'd fall and hit his head, pass out. In fact, he was hoping for it.

The baffled king composing Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

He did fall down between the first and second Hallelujahs. He just stayed there for a moment, not even bothering to try to stop the tears from flowing. There were too many to stop now that he had opened the floodgates.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof,
You saw her bathing on the roof,
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.

Why couldn't he just be the son his parents wanted? The devout little boy with steadfast faith who never questioned anything. Never questioned what the point of this all was. But he wasn't. Why would God put him here just to abandon him like this? Did He care at all? Jeff looked up at his reflection in the mirror, not missing how pathetic he looked. His eyes were red and his face looked worn. Not like the carefree kid he made himself out to be in front of everyone.

She tied you to her kitchen chair,
She broke your throne, she cut your hair,

His fingers knotted in his hair, pulling at the roots and the sharp pain brought him back to himself. It let him feel again, pulling him out from the emotions he didn't even want to begin to study further. He pulled himself up to his feet, rolling up as he did so. His arms were last, one trailing up his torso, his neck, to come over his lips and lead out as he went into a cartwheel.

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Maybe I have been here before,
I know this room, I've walked this floor,
I used to live alone before I knew you.

Jeff was so used to this, so used to feeling alone. He shouldn't have been so surprised about this. He was so used to doing things on his own. He kept his arms in close to his body as he moved around the room, not wanting to put himself out there too much. Contrast. Dance was about contrast and his life was about contrast. Contrast between up and down, in and out, happy and sad, that was how Jeff lived. Right now he was in, he was down, and he was definitely sad.

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
Love is not a victory march,
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

He threw his arms out as he leaped into the air into a flip that he nailed perfectly. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he had his arms positioned in such a way around his body that he looked broken. He put on such a proud, happy front. He was always out there, the golden boy to anyone who was watching. But that wasn't who he was. He was a broken Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

There was a time you let me know
What's real and going on below,
But now you never tell it to me, do you?

Then there was Nick, his Noni. They'd been best friends since day one of Dalton, and Jeff never wanted that to change. But it felt like it was. He tried to be there for him no matter what but now, with Trent trying to get back with him, it was just too much. It was tearing him apart. Because he had to admit it to himself, he loved Nick. He was in love with his best friend. And he knew the other boy didn't feel the same way. He was shutting him out, wasn't talking to him about his troubles. He supposed it was what he deserved. He hadn't exactly been forthcoming. Because he was selfish. He didn't tell Nick everything about him because he knew the other boy would run away from him and never look back. No one could take all his scars. And he would deserve it. He always deserved it.

And remember when I moved in you?
The Holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah.

He couldn't ever tell anyone why he had been so on edge lately, though. No one could know what had happened. It would disgrace his family more than he already had, and he couldn't do that to them. They were the only family he had. Each lash of the whip had meant something, his father had said. Each one was for a sin he had and it would make a little repentance. It wouldn't bring forgiveness for them all, not even close. He had too many. He was full of sin, why else wouldn't he live up to his family's expectations? But each lash bought him an indulgence, a little bit more of God's forgiveness. Because that was what he had to do. He had to pay for it in blood. Because He didn't care about Jeff. He likely never had, He'd given up on him, forsaken him. And he deserved it. All he ever did was disappoint. It was a miracle Jeff had lived through that last beating, honestly. Every breath after words had been shaky and painful, had been a question. The Lord's Prayer had been on his lips, but he knew that it fell on deft ears. It was a miracle that he was alive. Each breath served as his own Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Maybe there's a God above,
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at somebody who outdrew you.

Jeff wasn't even sure if God was there anymore. Not now as he spun around the room, reaching out as if to shoot with a bow and arrow. But he faltered. He couldn't do it. Why bother? The ones he cared for, that were plagued by his existence? They didn't deserve the pain. He did. It was all him. He could feel everything burning inside him and he couldn't do anything but let it go as he leaped once before going into a full out run towards the mirrors. He brought his clenched fists down against the mirrors, screaming in pain and anger and frustration as they shattered around him. He slid down to the floor and crumpled in on himself as the shards rained down on top of him. He would never deserve anything more or less. The perfect image of himself everyone always saw was slowly killing him. Who he was was cutting into him and he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to.

And it's not a cry you can hear at night.
It's not somebody who's seen the light.
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

That's what he was. He didn't lash out, he didn't wear his pain for everyone to see. Everyone thought he was the person who was always happy, who was good. Who's found whatever it is you need to make life work, to make it worth something. But he hadn't. Jeff had no dillusions, there was no mistaking what he was as he laid there surrounded by the shards of the mirror, of the facade he put up for everyone. He was a cold and broken Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah.