𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

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will :)

can we talk?


i should not be obsessing over this. i should not care that she hasn't even read my text, or that carter is probably still at her place right now. i shouldn't care that they probably spent all night talking and laughing just like we did the night i first met via. and I definitely shouldn't care about that glimmer in her eye when she first saw him again at that diner.

but, oh god, i do.

so when she answers my text a few hours later, it feels like the three kilo bowling ball in my stomach gets a little bit lighter.


via :)

hey! sorry i've been so busy lately. what's up?


i haven't seen you at all this month. is there a reason why? im sorry if i did something.


ah fuck, i'm sorry. look, will, im gonna be honest here- the reason i've been blowing you off is because i needed to get my shit sorted before i could worry about anything else. i just talked with c and everything's good now, so if u wanna get 2gether, just lmk.


how's tonight? dinner @ my place. 


it was risky, and the moment i hit send i immediately overthink it, but via responds almost immediately


via :)

pick me up @ 8 ;)



holy shit, i've done it. i've asked her out! is this a date then? does she think this is a date? does she want it to be? do i?

jesus, wilbur, you sound like a year 9 obsessing over a girl like this. 

more importantly, though...if i extended the invitation, does that mean i'm obligated to cook, or can i just order takeout? I'd say i'm an alright cook, but making a meal for someone else, especially via, seems a bit daunting. what if she doesn't like it? 

don't think like that, wilbur, you'll only be making it worse. just don't overthink it.

right. i mean, it's not like we're going on some big date. we're just hanging out at my place as friends! and that's when it hits me: i don't have to be the only one cooking. if via and I make the food together, we'll have something to do, and i won't have to worry about ruining everything!

i hope she likes pizza.

as I'm setting everything up for what's to come, another thought crosses my mind. is it time to tell her who I really am? as of now, she still thinks I'm will simons, and she has no idea about my music career, or my streaming, or anything about my job.

she knows so much about me, yet so little at the same time. is that wrong?

i wanted her to know the real me before I told her about the other parts, but maybe she already does, in a sense. and so it's decided- by the end of the night, via's going to know the truth.

it's a terrifying thought.

it takes nearly a half hour of scouring my closet for something to wear before I feel presentable enough, and i end up wearing a pressed white dress shirt and slightly baggy khakis- not overdressed, but not completely underdressed either. it'll have to do.

i'm parked outside via's block of flats when it hits me just how mentally unprepared I am for this. physically, i've got everything down, but my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings clawing to the surface.

before I can think too much, i double check the flat number she sent me and head there, trying to clear my mind of the negative thoughts. i've finally gained back a very flimsy sense of control by the time i reach her flat, and after a deep breath, i knock three times and wait.

"come in!" shouts a voice from inside. i slowly turn the doorknob and step inside, closing it behind me. there's a bit of banging about coming from the next room over, a lot of swearing, and an exasperated sigh, but soon via exits the room and turns to face me.

the sight before me is like nothing I've ever seen in my life.

recreational idiocy | wilbur sootWhere stories live. Discover now