A Lost Pair of Sunglasses ~ Georgebur Highschool AU

#4

George pulled him by the collar and threw him against the wall.

“Where are they?”
Wilbur cowered away from George's aggravated face. “Where are what?”
“Don't play dumb with me, Soot, I know you have them!”

The Clout Goggles lay against his pounding heart as he realised what he was looking for.

“George...? Please, I swear, I don't know what you're looking for!”
“My Clout Goggles! That's what I'm looking for, obviously.”

Ah shit. Of course it was. Wilbur's realisation had not been inaccurate.

Being an intimidated biromantic who was trapped, Wilbur pulled out his trump card: if worst comes to worst, start flirting.

“Well, George, I may not know the location of the Clout Goggles, but I know one thing…” Wilbur grinned. “This looks hella suspicious.”
A blush flared in George's cheeks. “W-what do you mean?”
“You, pinning the most notorious biromantic up against the wall, flushed, your face right next to mine. Looks kinda gay.”

George jumped back, tears budding in his eyes. Without a second look, George bolted down the corridor.

What a thing to unpack. Why would he run? Calling a tough guy gay would no doubt fluster and panic him. Maybe make him aggressive. But scare him into bolting? No way in hell. There was more to this.

Still preoccupied with his thoughts as he walked down the corridor, Wilbur bumped right into his friend and bandmate Joe.
“Where have you been, Wil? We've been waiting for you. They sent me to check you hadn't forgotten.”
Wilbur shrugged. “Someone wanted a word.”
“Being mysterious? Interesting. The lads will obviously need to know about this mystery meeting.”

Together, they walked down the rest of the corridor to the music rooms and shoved open the door with "Lovejoy" messily scribbled on the paper stuck to it.

“Eyyyy!” Ash and Mark called in synch.
“Wilbur! Where you been?”
Wilbur shrugged. “I was–”
“–Don't finish.” Joe butted in. “Let me. He was having a word with……” He paused for suspense. “"Someone".”

“A girlfriend?” Joked Mark, a smirk on his lips.
“Or maybe even a boyfriend?” Mischief danced in Ash's eyes too.

“Nothing like that!” Wilbur exclaimed, waving his hands to shoo away the questions. “He was just asking about English homework, that's all.”
“"He"?” Mark's smirk grew wider. “So it's a boyfriend! Oh Wilbur, I'm shocked and impressed.”
Wilbur gave him a light shove. “It was literally just homework! I'm as single as the rest of you, I swear!”

“Are you sure…?” Joe draped his arms over Wilbur's shoulders. “You sound a little… defensive.”
“Yes! Fuckssake guys, can someone not even ask me about Maths homework without you calling it "flirting"? Come on!”

Ash audibly cackled with triumph. “Maths homework, Wilbur? Are you sure about that…?”
“Yes!”
“Then why did you say it was for English earlier?”
“Oh my–” Joe gasped. “I was just joking but like why did you slip up, Wil? What was really happening?”

“I just made a slip up!” The higher pitch of his panicked voice betrayed the truth. This was a lie.

Ash shook his head to clear the thoughts. “We've wasted enough time. We should play before lunch ends.”
Wilbur pulled his guitar from his case and gave it a strum. “Yeah, let's play.”

~~

Shit shit shit shit shit. Wilbur was going to figure out George's secret. He was so caught. And with this, he would lose all his fame. The Clout Goggles didn't matter to him now. All that mattered was making sure nobody caught on that he was gay. Very gay. And an absolute simp for the tall curly brunette. Nobody could know. Nobody.

Holding back tears that threatened to stream down his face, George bolted to the one place he always went when he was scared: the music room. Dashing into the instrument store, he retrieved his clarinet, cradling it in his arms like it was a newborn.

He brought the mouthpiece up to his lips and prepared to play, but paused. He could hear the noise coming from the other music room, and drew near to the door to listen.

“I've been scared of sleeping with the lights off
Know she's not there, know she's going to his flat
A Capricorn, oh fuck that
They say sex sells, I know that~”

Typical. It just had to be the exact individual he had just ran away from singing: Wilbur Soot. Just typical.

He retreated back to the other music room. No time to occupy himself with thoughts of Soot. Lunch was nearing its end, and George couldn't go back to class with these multiple mixed emotions rolling in his stomach.

He brought his clarinet's mouthpiece up to his lips and began to play, the melody of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" flowing with ease. And as he played, he felt the stress ball in his stomach begin to unwind.

Yes. This was where he belonged. Alone, instrument in hand, making the music he adored.

Quick note: there is a extra part starring Technoblade (RIP) coming but that's slow going and I feel bad for nothing new this month so far so I'm publishing this now