The Guitar (Wilbur)

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This will be a Wilbur Oneshot (I'll do Tommy soon I promise!)

Wilbur POV (1st)

I laid on my bed bored out of mind. I had been feeling that a lot lately, like there was nothing to do. Of course, Tommy always helped with that, always giving me something to do. At the moment he was with Tubbo, so we couldn't hangout. Techno was at a fencing tournament, so it was just me and Phil.

I leaned up, slipping on my headphones. Maybe music could help, it usually did. I closed my eyes, listening to the soft melody. A feeling of content spread through my veins, making me smile. If only I could make music... but I had no music ability, at least I didn't think I did. 

Back at the orphanage, I was kept away from everything, including instruments. I would spend hours staring at that guitar that was on the wall. It seemed to cry out to me, begging to be played. I tried to once, only getting screamed at and forced to do twice the usual amount of chores.

I sighed, leaving my room. I needed to do something. I saw Phil and took off the headphones, allowing them to wrap comfortably around my neck.

"Hey Wil. What are you up to?" he asked, continuing to wash the dishes.

"I'm bored." I confessed.

Phil thought for a moment before speaking up. "I think you need to find a hobby."

"Like what?" I asked, hoping he would give me an idea.

"Well, Techno has his fencing. Tommy obviously has Tubbo and his adventurous spirit. Does any of that appeal to you?" 

"Not really. I'm not good at sparing and adventuring isn't as exciting as Toms makes it out to be." I sighed, staring at the counter.

"How about drawing?" 

I shrugged, "I don't know."

He was silent for a second. "What about music? I know that you love listening to it. Have you ever tried playing?"

I quickly shook my head. "They never let me. Besides instruments are too expensive."

"Its not too expensive if it makes you happy." Phil smiled, looking lovingly at me.

I looked up swiftly. "Are you sure? I can do extra chores or-"

"Wil. I can buy you whatever you want. Consider it a gift."

As soon as the words left his lips I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. "Thank you Dad!"

"Of course, Son." Phil chuckled, amused by my excitement. "Now go get ready and we'll go see what we can buy."

I grinned running to my room. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my jacket before sprinting to the car. I jumped into the passenger seat, my smile huge.

Phil got in the driver's seat and the engine roared on. We drove for what felt like hours, even if it was only fifteen minutes. Finally we came to a small music shop.

I leaped out of the car, unable to contain my excitement. Phil followed, entering the store behind me.

I gasped, staring at the beautiful store in front of me. Every instrument I could think of was at my fingertips. There was guitars, drums, clarinets, flutes, even oboes. My smile widened, if that was even possible.

"I can choose anything?" I looked at Phil for confirmation.

"Anything." he nodded.

I ran off, inspecting every inch of the store. I drifted among the walls, hoping something would jump out at me. I found myself stopping at a guitar.

It was beautiful, made of a cherry colored wood. I ran my fingers along it, fantasized by the mere thought of it becoming mine. I picked up gingerly, strumming it.

The sound was like Heaven, if Heaven could ever be a sound. Phil walked over, sharing a smile.

"Is that the one?"

I looked up, "I think so." 

"Good choice."

I could hardly believe it. I was getting a guitar. I was going to finally find my passion... if it really existed.

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Phil POV (1st)

It had been nearly a week and I had hardly seen Wilbur at all. He stayed in his room all day. The only way I even knew he was alive was because of the music that came from the room.

Groans of frustration mixed with the music, worrying me a little. But I knew everything had its struggles. I wanted to help, but I knew this was his thing. Besides I knew nothing about music.

I tiptoed to his door, putting my ear against it. I heard crying- wait crying?! I gently knocked on the door, earning a mumble in response. Carefully I opened the door to see the room in disarray. Papers covered every part of the room, music scribbled onto it. Wilbur was on his bed, cradling his guitar while sobbing.

I made my way over to him. "What's wrong Wil?" I spoke softly, knowing he was fragile.

"I'm not good! Everything I do sounds terrible!" he sobbed, holding the instrument closer.

I carefully took the guitar from his hands, placing onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around him, allowing him to cry into my shirt. I knew he needed comfort right now and I was more than willing to give it to him.

I threaded my hand through his hair, untangling the knots carefully. He leaned into me, the sobs slowly dying down.

"You have to be patient with yourself Wil. Talent comes with time." I said gently.

"Then its not a talent!" he argued.

"Do you enjoy playing your guitar?" I questioned.

A look of confusion crossed his face, "Of course, but-"

"Then it doesn't matter how well you play. If you enjoy it, then hold onto it."

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I know this book is supposed to be all about Tommy, but I can't help it. I love writing about all of them. Tommy oneshots are coming soon, don't worry.

I hope you have a wonderful day!

-Snowy

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