Hezzy Here! Well this is my first fanfic, so please be nice. I don't own any of the music, boys, or places presented or potrayed in this. If Mr. Golding would lke to sue me, he may do so, but I will only give him my hair tie and a few paper clips, as this is all I have. Well, Happy Reading
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The fair-haired boy was rather unsure as he boarded the plane. The same though kept resurfacing in his head, a rather abstract thought but it was there nonetheless, floating around aimlessly, pestering him endlessly, until he finally asked himself the question 'Where am I going? What will I find?'. He found his mind empty other than those two sentences. Sighing, he made himself comfortable in his chair. Unbeknownst to the blonde young man, there were a few people with the same thoughts, if not the exact ones he was having they were similar.
A young choir boy, flipped his black hair out of his face, itching his nose after he was done. ' What's in this grab-bag that I call my mind? What am I doing alone on the shelf? Ain't it a shame but no one's to blame but myself?'He sighed, resting his head on his hand and he sighed, looking at the boy facing him. The leader of the choir boys who could hit a C Sharp, sat opposite of him, scowling slightly. He would never admit to anyone but himself that he had always envied Jack's hair, it was red and rather thin and it didn't look like it was annoyingly hot, like his own thick black mop that he had the pleasure of calling his hair. Next to Jack sat his loyal and ever-present friend Roger. Simon had always been a little unsure about Roger and Jack, those two were always together and he had his own suspicions of what they did when they were alone. But he kept that to himself, he knew that if he ever said that out-loud, he would either be caused severe physical damage or they would probably rape him together, he doubted that. But still, anything was possible.
The humming in his ear was slowly driving him insane, turning rather suddenly on Robert he shot a glare. Robert gave Maurice a rather lop-sided grin, trying not to laugh at Bill's death glare. They were all seated and ready to go, but Maurice noticed something that even observant Simon had missed. Roger was staring with a strange intensity at Simon. He knew that look, that was the same type of look that he had given Robert when he had developed feelings for the boy next to him. Giggling, he nudged Robert, who in turn looked at Roger and then at Jack, and finally at Simon. Smiling at Maurice, both boys fell into a fit of giggles, which Bill and Henry dismissed in annoyance.
Jack glared at Maurice and Robert, which immediately silenced the two laughing boys. Jack growled, settling back and asking himself 'Which way is clear? When you've lost your way year after year? It's a shame that Roger has to look at little Simon like that. It should be someone older, maybe I can talk him out of it. He has no idea what he is getting himself into.' his lips turning into the frown that seemed to always etch his face, he buried himself even more into his chair.
Roger couldn't help but stare at Simon. That boy was strange and different. But in a pleasing way, kicking himself mentally he asked himself ' Do I keep falling in love for just the kick of it? Staggering through the thin and thick of it? Hating each old and tired trick of it!', groaning to himself, he rested his head on Jack's shoulder, who sighed. " Know what I am?" he barked at Simon and Roger, who turned questioning eyes to him. " I'm good and sick of it. Maybe if something exciting happened to us, we could really have some fun. Don't you think?" Roger just nodded silently, but Simon, he gave no answer, he just stared at Jack with a quiet intensity that made him think of Roger.
Ralph opened his eyes, it seemed he had fallen asleep, rubbing his eyes he looked for the source of the noise as he heard a loud hum. As if there was another plane following them. Shouting slightly, as he felt the plane tilt forward. They were going to die this way. They were going to burn, and he hadn't even remembered that he was wearing his favorite pair of school pants. Everything seemd to deteriorate to complete and total chaos as the plane plummeted downward. With a jolt, he bumped his head on the floor and tried to scramble out of the noisy heat and terror of the plane. He eventually fell into a primal panic that threatened to take hold of his consciousness, and when it did eventually loom over him, he shouted that there were parachutes on the underside of the chairs. Everyone seemed to scramble for a seat and blindly groped for one of the lifesaving devices. The smoke immediately took hold of Simon and caused him to lose his consciousness. He collapsed and Jack and Roger grabbed the body of the dark-haired boy and carried it with them. That's when they both felt it, the tumult had ceased and they had hit ground. With a dull thud, the door to the plane opened and the choir boys filed out neatly.
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Ralph awoke some time later, sweat adorning his lean body in small rivulets. Sitting up, he coughed slightly, the smell of smoke still burning the back of his throat. "Run to the Bronx? Or Washington Square? Is that where I am? Hmm, I wonder where we are?" Getting up, there wasa slight rustle in some bushes and a small, rotund boy came out, breathing rather heavily. " Hi!" He plopped down on the sand next to Ralph, panting heavily. " Do you know where we are?" the blonde boy just stared at the plump mass that sat next to him. Ralph shook his head. " It's hot, isn't it?" he questioned, as if asking about a dear friend instead of being stranded on an island alone, with no supervision. " It's deathly hot." the fat boy agreed. He took of his spectacles and wiped them on his sweaty shirt, coughing slightly.
" So, who're you?" the shorter boy asked suddenly.
" Oh, well. I'm Ralph." the blonde boy offered nothing else just his first name. He didn't give his last name, just his first.
" And you?" Ralph questioned.
" I don't care what they call me, so long as they don't call me what they called me at school." he said firmly.
Ralph seemed to be slightly interested, raising his head from taking off his shirt he nodded his head in the other boy's direction "What was that?" he asked removing his socks.
"They used to call me Piggy.'"
Ralph shrieked with laughter. He jumped up.
"Piggy! Piggy!"
"Ralph—please!"
Piggy clasped his hands in apprehension.
"I said I didn't want—"
"Piggy! Piggy!"
Ralph danced out into the hot air of the beach and then returned as a fighter-plane, with wings swept back, and machine-gunned Piggy.
"Sche-aa-ow!"
He dived in the sand at Piggy's feet and lay there laughing.
"Piggy!"
Piggy grinned reluctantly, pleased despite himself at even this much recognition.
"So long as you don't tell the others—"
Ralph giggled into the sand. The expression of pain and concentration returned to Piggy's face.
Ralph looked up, grinning, " I promise I won't tell the others!". Smiling haggardly, they walked along the beach. It wasn't until something caught Ralph and Piggy's attention that they fell quiet.
"What is it? A stone?" Piggy asked, leaning to the pink and tan shape in the ferny weeds.
"No. A shell." Ralph corrected, leaning forward as well and picking it up.
Piggy and Ralph stood in complete wonder as they looked at the marvelous structure. It was a shell that neither one of them had seen the likes of before. All of sudden Piggy was filled with a type of energy that mildly surprised the charismatic, blonde boy.
"I've seen one like that! A conch he called it! And he blew on it, and his Mum would come out and..." he trailed off, his eyes a-gleam with excitement. " He used to blow it."
Ralph put the shell to his mouth and blew on the small end, it failed to supply a sound, which disappointed both the boys.
Then Piggy remembered some more. " He used to kind of spit."
Again Ralph applied his mouth to the small end and blew, it made a type of noise that reminded both him and Piggy of a low fart. This sent both the boys to the sand, howling with laughter. Ralph took a deep breath and resumed standing with the conch in his hand. Chuckling slightly, he looked at Piggy for some advice on how to blow the conch.
Piggy cleared his throat and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, patting his stomach slightly he said "He used to blow from down here."
Finally understanding, Ralph let all the air from his diaphragm fill the conch, it gave a low pleaseing rumble that echoed over the whole island.
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Jack heard a low noise and decided it was a trumpet, gathering all the choir boys, he arranged them in two parallel lines behind him. His cap and cloak were suffocating him, but he didn't feel like taking them off. They showed he was special, and he wouldn't allow himself or the choir to remove the choking garments. Thinking he began walking, leading the boys in a song to make the time pass quicker as they walked.
"Looking inside me, what do I see? Anger and Hope and Doubt, what am I all about? And where am I going? You tell me. Where am I going? Why do I care? Run to the Bronx or Washington Square, no matter where I run, I meet myself there. Looking inside of me what do I see? Anger and hope and doubt. What am I all about? And where am I going?"
Finally they stopped walking, reaching the place where the noise had come from. "You. Tell me, where is the man with the trumpet?"
Hezzy Here, So how did you like it? Was it good? Let me know, and write me some reviews. CAn you figure out the pairings yet? There are two already given right here.