How could you forget?

Wilbur's Songs

Wilbur POV:

I let the bench trio into my house to show them my new song. I grabbed my guitar and sat on the floor. I strummed and counted down. "1 2 3 4.

Bouncer greets us at the door

He can tell we've been here before

So he lets us pass

And we climb up 15 flights of stairs

And find that spot in the corner just over there

It's only 6:30 but we're starting to drink

I'm ordering the usual

I think I need a change of pace

London's bursting at the seams

It's not quite the place I hoped I'd be

It's white wine in a Wetherspoons

It's fine dining with cheap perfume

It's country walks down the motorway

How many drugs have you done today?

'Cause concrete sculptures and broken glass

It's the lamp posts who guide our paths

Because the moon can't get in

And the clouds hang heavy

Blocking out his pursuit

And booze hangs limply on our rental suits

'Cause we're fires, we're burning bright

Breaking bottles and starting fights

But the evening has other plans

Run as they pull up with two more vans

It's white wine in a Wetherspoons

It's fine dining with cheap perfume

It's country walks down the motorway

How many drugs have you done today?

But I won't fuss

I'll let you pass

No, I won't fuss

I'll let you pass

'Cause it's only white wine in a Wetherspoons

Fine dining with cheap perfume

DLR closed due to workers' strikes

God knows how I'll get home tonight."

Tommy clapped avidly. "That was fucking awesome!" Tommy shouted. I smiled. 

"So, what's up? You didn't come here just to hear my wonderful music, did you?" Tommy didn't respond, but Tubbo shook his head. I nodded, expecting this. "What happened?" Tommy sighed, and began to speak. "Ranboo lost all his memories. He now remembers Tubbo, Micheal, and your song Saline Solution." I felt slightly flattered. I was also worried about Ranboo. He was quiet. Really quiet. And he wasn't sitting near Tubbo. If he did indeed remember him, this is strange behavior.

 "Do you want to hear another song?" I asked. Tommy nodded vigorously. I picked up my guitar and rested a slight smile on my face.

"He never had cool stories

He doesn't make your heart beat

Used to love his mystery

But now he's just exhausting

Another day spent just laying in his room

The stench of incense

And some undelivered food

And she thought

What if he thinks I'm the one?

And I'll be forced to rot away

With him and his obsessions, with trivial things

Like the amount of fucking love hearts I finish a text message with

And when you hold his hands

It doesn't feel like flying

And when you take his breath away

He might as well be dying

And you're dying to breathe

You're trapped in his cage

And it's shrinking

And she thought

What if he just never leaves?

Or if he doesn't get the message?

And he doesn't hear my please?

So she just started screaming

Why can't he just bore me to death?

(Why can't he just bore me to death?)

Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?

(Why can't he just bore me to death?)

Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?

(Why can't he just bore me to death?)

Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?"

Tommy clapped for at least a minute. I smiled, but I was distracted. "How about you all stay here tonight. It's getting dark." There was still no reaction from Ranboo. I felt extremely guilty for not getting a reaction out of him. 

"Goodnight." I whisper, and climb up the stairs to my bedroom.