Benedict and reader : Choir Girl

Marcus

The ride home was peaceful, I turned into the woods just in case Marcus and his stupid thug Neanderthals were waiting at my door. I stood my bike on a little bridge over a stream and sat at the edge, watching the rushing water travel over the pretty rocks at the bottom. I leaned over the railing and rested my head upon my arms.
I heard a rustle of leaves and looked up to see a fox pop out and drink from the stream, "I can't believe it." I whispered. The fox's ears twitched to the sound of my voice. Could this really be the same fox I met in the summer? He trotted over to me and made his way up to the bridge, sitting at the other end. He stared at me, tilting his head from side to side as if I were as interesting as a fish bobbing about in the stream below.
"Hello again."
He crept closer and sat back down. I giggled seeing his reaction, "What are you doing so far from home?" I asked. He squeaked and crept closer, he wanted so much to sit right next to me but his instincts told him otherwise. I turned to face the little guy, "You know, if I didn't know any better. I'd think you're following me."
The fox tilted his head and licked his lips. I slowly held my hand out, Oh god. I just hope this isn't a mistake. He sniffed it and looked back up into my eyes and his attention came back to my outstretched hand.
He whined and backed away. "Its alright, no pressure little guy."
He ran off back into the thicket and I stood, mounting my bike and finally riding home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walked into the choir room and sat down in my seat like I did yesterday. Silence was my only friend right now so I wanted to grace it with my presence every chance I had. Mr. Timothy opened the door to his office with a cup of coffee in his hand. He sat at the piano, "Oh. Hello (y/n). How are you this morning?"
"I'm alright. What about you?"
"Eh, I was up all night trying to write. To tell you the truth I'm a bit rusty."
"You write music?" I asked.
"Yes, I play the violin."
"That's cool. I wish I could play an instrument. I had piano lessons when I was five but that didn't stick."
"Cone down here and lets see what you remember." He beckoned me to sit next to him and so I stood and seated myself and looking down at the ivory keys. "Do you know this song?" he started playing Amazing Grace and I nodded. He stopped, "Try it."
I started playing in a low key and after a while, Mr. Tim started playing the high key. Both tunes danced with each other happily as it floated in the air.
"I still got it." I said with a happy laugh.
"Never lost it I don't think." we bumped hands and I retracted my fingers from the keys immediately surprised ad how cold his hands were. "Sorry about that." He said going back into his office for a moment. I took my seat again and watched as all of the students filed in one by one.
Mr. Tim came out of his office and greeted the class, "Good Morning-" His attention was diverted when a late student came in and all of the jocks greeted him with loud battle cries like a pack of Vikings. Marcus ascended the steps and took me by the waist, "Good morning baby." he kissed my cheek and I gagged. I pushed him away and dusted myself off, "What are you doing here? You can't even sing."
"I don't need to sing in order to gat a credit."
Mr. Tim watched us as he took my hand and brought me down to his friends, "Excuse me." Mr. Tim interrupted. "She is a Soprano. She belongs up there."
"Yes, but she is also my girlfriend-"
"NO I AM NOT!" I shouted.
Mr. Tim didn't look to surprised when I answered, "There you have it. Let her go so we can assess that voice of yours."
"An assessment?" Marcus let go of my hand and I retreated back up to my seat. Mr. Tim nodded slowly.
"You didn't think that I would just give you a credit for showing up did you?" he said, a smirk playing on his face. "Every lady has sang for me, so why don't you start me off with assessing the young men here."
"Fine."
Mr. Timothy took his seat in front of the piano and played upon the keys for him to follow with his voice. He sang out and everyone started laughing. Even Mr. Tim had a hard time keeping a straight face. After a while he had to stop playing and he stood up, "Alright. It is obvious that Choir is not the class for you."
"No, there has to be something wrong with that piano. I can sing." Ugh. There it is, he cannot deny being bad at something even when he was laughed out of the room. "What was your name again?"
"Marcus."
"Marcus, do you know what your name means?"
"No, Why is it so important."
"Because I can imagine that the God of War would fight any battle to be in every class with his ex girlfriend." He huffed a bit irritated. "But not my class. I must ask you to leave my class and transfer to another elective."
"You'll regret this." Marcus stormed out and slammed the door, "Someone must have lost a battle." Mr. Tim stated making the class laugh. I smiled, I was grateful for him. He wasn't just a teacher, he was a friend. The boys were assessed one by one and the principal came in when he was testing the last student.
"I hear that you have booted Marcus from his class." Mr. Rinehart said standing at the piano looking down on the skinny Mr. Tim.
"Yes, I have. He cannot sing and He was also disrupting the class when he came in late."
"With all do respect, Mr. Tim. He doesn't need to sing in order to get a credit given to him."
Mr. Rinehart was a tall and beefy man, he had mean green eyes and a bald head. Mr. Tim stood and looked out at the class who were talking amongst themselves, "We both know that the teacher has to give the credit when they see the student working hard to earn it, I don't see him doing that with singing."
"Well, it is too late for him to transfer to another elective. All classes have been made official in the database." Mr. Rinehart mentally smirked on the inside. "You can find something for him to do."
"I shall." Mr. Tim's gave his eyes a hardness as he gazed at the man. He looked over at Marcus, "You will answer when I call you in class and do what ever I ask. I will not and shall not let you sing but you will do everything and anything I say. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Go take your seat."