The room is warm, and it is loud.

Fifteen a cappella connoisseurs are circled up at the front of Room 1147 in the Music Building, making their way through the alphabet. Their warm-up is simple and mundane, but for the members of No Comment on this particular Sunday evening, it is musical gold. The notes explode and resonate, dancing across the stark walls and brushing past the chalkboard.

The exercise comes to its final crescendo, and Kyle Perfect, freshman in Engineering, stumbles on a letter. “Kyle’s the smartest guy here and he can’t sing the alphabet,” someone jokes. “Do it now!”

Kyle grins, readjusting his black-rimmed glasses. He whizzes through the tune once more, nailing each letter, and everyone cheers.

Kelsey Stanker, senior in FAA and NoCo’s musical director, quiets the singers and commands their attention. Saturday is the International Championships of Collegiate A Cappella, a quarterfinal competition held at Illinois State University. Kelsey blows into her pitch pipe, and the song begins.

“Dun, doo, dun, ahhhh, waaah …”

What I thought might be a typical three-hour practice feels more like a private concert for me.

I’m beaming, and when the soloist opens her mouth, my heart nearly stops. Kristin Morrill, junior in LAS, is a wonder. Her voice, rich and toned, fills the room: “If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?”

One hour passes and I feel as if I’ve known these people my entire life, like Logan Moore, sophomore in Education. This girl is vivacious. She even lets out a belch at one point. (Kelsey’s response: “No farting, burping, sneezing, coughing on stage this weekend. For 12 minutes, bodily functions are not allowed.”)

Then, there’s Chris Rice, junior in Business, whom I affectionately nickname Chill Beatbox Guy. I don’t tell him that. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head, and during the songs, this vocal percussionist holds his left hand to his ear as if listening to an invisible set of headphones. Chris is a boss, especially when he drops the beat.

When NoCo rehearses “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” I get to know two more members: James Fletcher, freshman in Media, and Morgan Ammirati, freshman in DGS. Both are soloists for this song, and they’re outstanding.

James’ long, lean build and doe eyes make him the “cute” one. The same can be said for Morgan. She is small, but her voice is not. It is sweet, feminine — the perfect complement to James’ tenor.

James, I learn, is the proverbial ladies’ man of the group. Morgan describes him as a wonderful hugger. “He’s so tall, and the girls in NoCo are short, so our heads end up on his lower chest,” she says. “We all love hugs from James.”

Morgan is quite affectionate herself. Her NoCo friends say she’s warm, loving, the type of girl who brings you chicken noodle soup when you’re sick. Morgan is the mother of the group.

She and James, then, are the absolute right pair for the Whitney Houston classic.

Once Kelsey is satisfied with their dance moves for the song, people mosey out to the hallway for a water break. Some linger in the classroom, standing around a few half-eaten packages of Andes Chocolate Mints.

I take a short rest from my journalistic duties and pull up Facebook. Maddy Wilkinson, sophomore in Business, is a friend of mine in real life and online. As I click through her tagged photos, I realize something: Every single picture of Maddy has No Comment members in it.

Scott Stover, sophomore in ACES, appears in roughly three-fourths of her photos. These two are the troublemakers — not to be confused with the Treblemakers — always arriving fashionably late to rehearsals and making obscene comments. Maddy tells me they hang out excessively. They’re best friends.

It’s not just Scott and Maddy. The members of No Comment are virtually obsessed with each other. Max Antman, sophomore in LAS, says these people are together almost 25 hours a week.

They are brothers and sisters, bonding over musical tours around Chicagoland, nights out in Champaign and dinners at Olive Garden.

Jessica Clark, junior in ACES, mentions NoCo once sang at “the OG.” They were waiting for a table, harmonizing quietly, when the owner asked them to sing “Happy Birthday” to celebrating customers.

They also love movies — over winter break, NoCo watched “Pitch Perfect” twice in one night.

No matter what these kids are doing, they revel in each other’s company.

A few minutes past 10 p.m., the rehearsal ends, and NoCo spills out into the hallway of the Music Building. They’re tired — and a little bit sweaty. “Y’all need deodorant,” someone shouts.

I pack up my laptop and traipse through the back door. Kristin is ahead of me, humming the chorus to “Clarity.”

For a moment, I pause, listening. She turns and then I’m alone on the corner of Goodwin Avenue and Nevada Street, with the music and laughter of No Comment playing over and over again in my head. 

Melanie is a sophomore in Media. She can be reached at [email protected] and @mellystone.