Not a Fan (Wilbur Soot)

Just Another Day

"You couldn't have mentioned that before I left the store?" Wilbur scoffed, stepping into his apartment building's elevator. He was thankful the desk attendant wasn't there. She was sweet but always bombarded him with questions about when he would be streaming, what new music he was working on, and so on.

"Wil, please!" His friend Tommy loudly whined through the call, making Wilbur pull his phone away from his ear.

"Fine, I'll go back later tonight. I need to practice some stuff before I go back." He answered, already hearing Tommy cheering.

The elevator stopped on the sixth floor, the doors creaking open slowly.

"And don't forget, it's the blue one Wil! Not the pink, the BLU-" Tom continued as Wilbur accidentally tripped on a stray bag lining his hallway.

"Hang on, what the hell is all this?" Wilbur spoke, mainly to himself.

"What the hell is what? The blue one?" Tom asked, not sure if Wilbur was confused about the item he had requested or something unrelated.

"No, there's like suitcases scattered in the hallway. Someone must be moving in on my floor." Wilbur explained, weaving through the bags littering the hall to his door.

"Sorry!" An unfamiliar girl's voice chimed from inside the apartment next to his. Wilbur could barely hear her over Tommy continuing to explain his request, the door swinging shut behind him as he stepped into his apartment.

"Yeah, Tom. I got it. I'm hanging up on you now." Wilbur interrupted as he set down his two bags, already not looking forward to his impending trip back to the store.

"You're the best brother I never asked for!" Tommy joked as Wilbur ended the call.

Wilbur kicked off his shoes and fell hard onto his plush sectional couch. The couch alone took up the majority of his small living room, but he knew he needed something large enough to accommodate his 6'6 frame. He gazed upside-down over the edge of the couch, watching as it looked like the rain was sliding up the windows back into the sky. The apartment was small, yes, but at least it was on the corner so he had double the windows.

He leaned over, tossing a few of the ridiculous number of throw pillows on the floor so he could lay more comfortably on the couch. He appreciated his friends helping him decorate when he first moved in, them knowing he would probably never get around to it, but some of the decorations were just impractical.

Time passed by slowly as he continued to watch the rain against his windows. He hated the rain, making England one of the worst places on earth for him to live. Rain once brought him comfort, like the world was encouraging him to stay inside for the day. Now he felt like the rain was just a wet blanket draped over him. It was no longer a gently push to have a relaxing day, more like a deadbolt on his door, locking him in from the outside.

Wilbur groaned as his phone alarm began going off, reminding him that he needed to practice his music. He silenced the alarm, looking over begrudgingly at the electric guitar sitting in it's stand next to his amplifier. He much preferred playing acoustic.

"Stupid thing." He grumbled as he lifted his tired body off his couch, making his way to his small music set up. He plugged the guitar into the amp, preparing for the headache he would soon get from the noise.

"Let's see how sound proof this apartment really is." He whispered looking over to his new neighbors conjoining wall, slipping on his large headphones as he pressed record on his computer.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" He counted himself off loudly, beginning to play.

There was something so distasteful about the electric guitar when he played it. He felt like he couldn't connect to the melody when he didn't have the hollow inside of the guitar vibrating against his chest. Not to mention this guitar was a hand-me-down from one of his band mates, clearly disposed of because of it's inability to hold a tune.

Wilbur continued playing for the next hour or so, eventually stopping once his finger's ached and he couldn't fathom retuning the guitar one more time.

"What color am I getting again?" Wilbur texted Tommy, laughing to himself, knowing it would get a rise out of him. He grabbed his umbrella while slipping on a beanie and jacket.

The rain had slowed, just barely more than a drizzle at this point. He weaved around the other pedestrians, walking a great deal faster thanks to his long legs. The store's light was just coming into view when his phone began ringing. Wilbur smiled as he saw the familiar photo of himself and Tommy together on his screen.

As much as he gave Tommy a hard time, he genuinely loved him like a little brother. Tommy had been the one who pulled Wilbur out of countless depressive episodes, forcing him to get out of bed and talk with him on discord.

"I'm just about there, you wanted the red one, right?" Wilbur asked, a devious smile on his face, infecting his tone.

"You dick, you made me think you actually forgot." Tommy huffed once he heard the smile in Wilbur's voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Blue cotton candy. You're a child." Wilbur laughed, pulling open the door to the market.

"Take it back!" Tommy yelled, making Wilbur laugh. He was unsure if the stares he received from the few strangers were because of his height or his laugh echoing through the empty isles.

"I will once you turn eighteen." Wilbur refuted, a slight chuckle in his voice.

"Dickhead." Tommy scoffed. "Anyway, me and Toby are going to be there by Friday, we're still good to crash on that stupid giant couch of yours, right?" He finished.

"Hey, insult my couch again and you children can stay in a hotel. Oh wait, you can't." Wilbur laughed, slowly turning down the candy and baking isle.

"I can't even believe you right now. You are an absolute twat." Tommy retorted. Wilbur could hear the familiar creaking noise of Tommy sitting at his desk chair, soon followed by the rhythmic tapping of his keyboard.

"You've wounded me, Tom. I'm hurt." Wilbur brought a hand to his chest, dramatically hanging his head as if Tommy could see him. "I'm so sad I might just have to leave the store without your candy." Wilbur tried desperately to continue sounding hurt, covering his mouth to muffle his laugh.

"No, no, no, no, I'm sorry Wil! I love you! You're my big brother!" Tommy said sweetly into the phone as soon as Wilbur threatened to leave the store empty handed.

"You're going to make me cry, stop saying I'm like a brother to you." Wilbur answered with a smile, pulling his hand down from his mouth, returning his attention to the candy before him.

"So you're still getting me the blue one?" Tommy asked, redirecting the conversation to his request, his keyboard returning to it's clacking.

"Yeah, I'm grabbing some now. Are you getting ready to stream?" He asked, scanning the isle for the candy.

"Yeah, are you going to hop on when you get back?" Tommy asked, his attention already fixed on setting up his game.

"Wouldn't dream of missing it." Wilbur said with a smile as his eyes finally landed on the various cotton candy bins lining the top shelf.

"Okay, talk to you soon Wil!" Tommy chirped, hanging up before Wilbur could even reply.

Wilbur slid his phone into his back pocket, crossing his arms as he peered straight ahead to the multitude of flavors of cotton candy before him.

"Excuse me." A soft feminine voice with an American accent spoke from behind him.

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(1,284 words)