Figure You Out (Rogermon)

The Island

As Roger opened his eyes sleepily, everything came back into his thoughts like a bombshell. The crash. The masses of water. Simon's cries. Oh lord, Simon! His only real friend must have fainted! Immediately, the dark-haired jumped up, to look around for Simon. He was stranded on an island, after fighting the masses of water. He faintly remembered grabbing his seatmate on the plane, after the crash and swimming, while carrying the smaller boy, with all his might. Their survival being his main concern. If Simon hadn't reached the island with him, everything would have been in vain. At this thought tears began to form in Roger's eyes, much to his own bafflement. He never cried. After his education a pure survival instinct. Boys do not cry! He recalled his father preaching this countless times, before letting his fist crash down on Roger's back, punishing him for his weakness. There, most people wouldn't see it. Not that anyone would have cared. Roger let out a bitter laugh at this. Near to no one has ever cared about him.

Distractions aside, the dark-haired boy pushed several exotic plants aside, as he looked for his friend with misty eyes. His attachement to the smaller boy overwhelmed him. Silently he swore to himself that he'd keep more of a distance in the future. That's if his friend was still breathing. The last three years, both of them had grown closer. Inevitably, after Roger's smooth inition to the choir thanks to Simon's advises. Merridew even seemed to grow rather fond of the newcomer, contrairly to his feelings for the green-eyed boy himself that the Chapter Chorister almost resented due to his weakness, well his illness, that caused too many disruptions for the controlling boy in charge. Although Roger had become quite popular in the beginning, he ignored the intrigued questions and stuck to secluding himself with his first acquaintance at school, Simon. Suddenly the sound of rustling in the bushes, ripped him out of his memories. The dark-haired boy grabbed the first makeshift weapon he could find, a rather sharp stick and crept to the origin of the noise. As he prodded into the bushes with his stick, a small shriek resonated. Curiously, Roger bent down to get a closer look, only to find the boy he had been searching all along, shivering despite his heat inducing choir robes. Furtively the taller boy whiped his tear-stained face clean, before he lifted Simon's chin, soothingly addressing his friend: "Hey, Simon. It's alright. It's only me, Roger. Let's see, if we can find the others. Now, there's no need to worry. You're with me."

After Simon had fainted shortly after they were reunited, the taller boy had picked him up, carrying him through the thick jungle to another part of the beach, where Roger assumed other survivors must have arrived. If there were any, at least. On his way there he perceived various sounds. Simon's breath had steadily accompanied him, assuring him that his friend was indeed alive. The alternating singing of the wind and chirping of the birds provided him with an adventurous sentiment during his walk. One particular sound however caught his attention, as he recalled hearing it countless times. The shrill voice of none other than Jack Merridew, howling commands at whoever there was. Attracted by the familiarity of that penetrating voice, Roger seemed to fly to the clearing, where the ginger was located, even with Simon's weight in his arms. "Merridew!" he shouted ecstatically. Immediately he felt multiple curious gazes on him. Showing so much delight was highly uncharastic for him. However, the situation right now was clearly not your average day adventure either, so many smaller boys shrugged it off and resumed what they had been doing before their arrival. Jack nodded curtly to Roger. Content that there were other capable people with him. The boy in the dark-haired boy's arms, Simon, obviously didn't fit into this category, so the Chapter Chorister just supressed the urge to roll his eyes at the smaller one. Simon who had just regained his consciousness didn't notice, as he too, was occupied with regarding Roger. Nevertheless, the dark-haired boy had been oblivious to Simon's improved condition, so he commenced to explain why he was carrying the other boy, when suddenly a loud noise, resembling a trumpet resonated from far off. Excitedly, all the remaining choir members scambled around, announcing there guesses for its origin. Dutifully, Jack put a halt to this chaos: "Quiet! It's probably an alarm to assemble us. Follow me, I'll bring you to it. And quit whispering! We'll make a good impression! Kyrie Eleison should be a decent song choice. Roger, Simon, come join me in the front! You'll all be forming two straight lines. We can't have none of that childish chaos here!" Nobody dared to object the firm commands and soon the choir boys were orderly strutting to their salvation, all the while praising the lord with their angelic voices.