From Bourbon Street To Sunday Service

As their paths cross and they draw closer, the question lingers..

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On a hot Southern Sunday, when the sun hangs high and golden over the city streets, the day begins the way it always has. Church clothes are being ironed, gospel music hums from old speakers, mothers call out from kitchens, and families rush from room to room trying to make it to service before the first hymn is sung. It’s the First Sunday of the month—a day that carries a different kind of weight. A day of tradition. A day of expectation. A day when excuses aren’t accepted.

Characters

Symphony Mae Williams

Symphony speaks very aggressively but soft at the same time if that makes any sense, she tends to use a lot of slang which is the aggression but sounds kinda soft spoken because of her southern nola accent.

Eloise Joy Bernette

very bubbly and soft spoken, she’s also both good friends of Tempo and Symphony though symphony and tempo don’t know each other yet.

Jazzlyn arie Johnson

Very soft spoken and girly just like tempo yet jazzlyn is the older sister. she’s very convinced tempie is lesbian but she’s not so sure how to bring it up..she knows their family doesn’t accept but she knows tempo couldn’t ever see herself with a man. she wants her sister to follow her heart she just doesn’t want tempie to have to face consequences for loving a girl……..

Chris james Johnson

both Tempo and jazzlyns father very passionate since he’s a pastor and he has a very loud voice and strong stern sound though he was a nola accent.

Loretta Mae williams

very stern and strict.

Melody Elis Williams

very soft spoken and kind symphonies mom nola accent

Blue gracelynn Williams

Symphonies twin sister soft spoken but she’s not soft.

Cadence Lorraine Johnson

Tempo’s and Jazzlyns mother very soft spoken very successful very kind hearted had suspicions that her daughter may like girls

Marvin terrell williams

a business man very successful very loud but very kind always busy

Mahalia Ruth Johnson

tempos grandmother very kind very Holy and Godly

Intro

Messiah Jashawn, if you pull at that clip-on tie one more time, so help me," Melody Elise Williams warned, her voice a smooth alto that could effortlessly transition from a jazz lullaby to a strict maternal directive. She was already on her knees on the hot pavement, her own immaculate cream dress dipping dangerously close to the dust as her hands blurred across her children.*

But it's choking me, Ma! And it's too early! The sun ain't even awake yet," seven-year-old Messiah fussed, his bottom lip trembling in a catastrophic pout as he rubbed his heavy, sleep-crusted eyes. He stomped a tiny loafer, his entire spirit protesting the ungodly hour. "The sun is well awake, and so are we to give thanks," Marvin Terrell Williams boomed, stepping out from the driver’s seat. He smoothed the front of his sharp charcoal suit, casting a proud, sweeping look over his flock, though his eyes held a sympathetic twinkle for his youngest son.

Symphony Mae Williams

Symphony crossed her arms, watching her mother practically plead with Messiah while her dad just stood there smiling like the boy was performing a solo instead of throwing a whole tantrum on North Claiborne Avenue. "Ma, seriously? If Blue or I even breathed in that tone of voice at seven years old, we would’ve been grounded until high school," Symphony muttered, her voice dripping with pure, unadulterated sibling annoyance. She looked over at Blue, expecting a nod of solidarity. "I swear, the second y'all had Messiah, every rule in this family just evaporated.

Melody Elis Williams

Melody let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to deflate her entire shoulders, pausing her hands on Messiah’s collar. She looked up at Symphony, her eyes laced with the deep, bone-weary exhaustion that only a mother on a Sunday morning could possess. "Symphony, please, I am begging you—not today," Melody said, her voice dropping into a tired, quiet register that was less about anger and more about survival. She rubbed a temple, careful not to mess up her makeup. "I have been up since four o'clock frying catfish for the church luncheon, putting rollers in your sister's hair, and ironin' your father’s suit. I do not have the breath, the spirit, or the energy to wage a war on the sidewalk with a seven-year-old before the first hymn even starts."

Loretta Mae williams

“I know you didn't just stand on the steps of the house of God and question your mother’s parenting," Loretta said, her lace-gloved finger hovering inches from Symphony’s nose. "In my day, you didn't look at your elders sideways, let alone critique how they raise a child. That modern, fast mouth of yours is borderline disrespect, and I won't have it. Your mother said grab my arm, not give a speech. Now move those feet before I give you something real to be annoyed about."

Symphony Mae Williams

But she knew better than to open her mouth. Grandma Loretta wasn't playing, and making a scene on the steps of Greater Mount Zion was a one-way ticket to a summer-long grounding. With a stiff, jerky motion, Symphony stepped forward and offered her arm to her grandmother. She didn't say a word. She just stared straight ahead at the heavy wooden church doors, her eyes burning with frustrated tears she refused to let fall.