recreational idiocy | wilbur soot

𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐥𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐭

𝐯𝐢𝐚

"no fucking way!" caddy exclaims, covering her mouth in awe.

"it really isn't as massive a deal as you think it is. and anyway, at the rate her follow count has been growing lately, i'm sure via's going to pass me." george responds. we've been talking about how many followers the dsmp members have, and every time one of us names a higher number, caddy gasps even louder. it's quite comical, really.

"he actually pulled up pictures of himself on google to show his hairstylist the cut he wanted." i inform her solemnly. "i watched the stream, it was mental."

caddy actually laughs at this, tossing her head in such a way that makes her shiny gold hair shimmer even more than usual, which seems to distract george for a second. i watch him watch her, and i feel a smile growing on my face before i can stop it.

"what are you grinning at over there, oli?" caddy asks in a playfully sarcastic tone.

recovering quickly and not wanting to start anything that may embarrass my friend, i stand up with my arms held out, drinking in the atmosphere of the dimly lit pub. "i am going to ignore that hideous nickname for now" i say, spinning around. this response evokes a snort from george, and i can practically feel cadmium rolling her eyes.

"i just love tonight!" i finish. this is actually true; the lights above me seem to spin long after i go still, and i can't help but marvel at them. i can feel myself sinking into the lyrics being sung by someone sat at the stage, but i don't pay attention to the words.

i'm too focused on the emotion behind them, the layers of sound being pulled together in the room. the melting pot of voices and the strum of the singer's guitar create such a beautiful symphony that i almost have to close my eyes in order to fully appreciate it.

the artist sounds.. wistful. that's the only word that i can think of to accurately describe the feeling behind the words being sung. at this point i need to hear the rest of the song, so i call an excuse about going to the washroom over my shoulder and wander over to the stage, trying to hear better.

"and i'm lonely

there i said it

nine million people

i always seem to add them up"

the pensive lyrics flow through my head, taking flight from the singer's mouth straight into my cerebral cortex. something in my brain seems to light up, and i can imagine a little lightbulb switching on over my head like in those cartoons, but i can't tell what exactly it is that i'm recognising. until the end of the song.

"i'm trying to ignore the skyline

so i dont figure out where you.."

finally, it clicks. i look toward the stage, trying to confirm what my mind is telling me, but the crowd is clapping and the musician is gone. i try to look for him backstage, but it's useless- i can't find him.

i head back to the table to find george and caddy chatting to each other excitedly, chairs pushed together. caddy's showing him something on her cell that absolutely cracks him up, and while he's doubled over in laughter she looks like she's trying not to have a fit as well.

glad as i am that two of my best friends are getting on so well, i still feel a bit left out of the mix. those feelings aside, i still don't want to intrude, so i step outside into the cool night air.

there, leaning against the window looking into the pub stands wilbur, his guitar case propped up beside him. "fancy seeing you here," he says without looking up. he's got a bottle of beer in one hand, and he looks at it as though contemplating before he brings it to his lips and takes a long swig.

"what was the song called?" i ask immediately, needing to know as soon as possible so i could further listen to it on my own time.

"the last one? it's called la jolla." he nods absentmindedly, wiping the condensation from his bottle with the tip of his pinky before wiping it on his trousers. "like the city?" i ask, trying to keep his attention. he seems a bit out of it, but not pissed up. just tired, probably- it reminds me of the way he looked the day we first met.

"yeah, like the city. i've always wanted to move to the states and california seemed like a good place to sing about. sunny skies, the ocean, that whole bit." he answers idly.

"why didn't you tell me you were here, wil?" i ask, taking the bottle from him and downing the rest so that he won't. he smiles at the gesture, shaking his head and taking it back to toss into the bin. "i didn't want to barge in on your night out." he explains, taking my hand in place of the bottle.

"you were having so much fun meeting george and hanging out with your friend, and i just didn't want to take any of that time away from them." he elaborates, seeing my confusion. the fact that he even thought of this makes me like him even more, and i can't help but lean up and kiss him.

he seems a bit surprised, but he returns the kiss nonetheless, wrapping his arm around my waist and rubbing his thumb along the hand he's still holding. "i want you here with me, wil," i respond, "come back inside, okay?"

he thinks about it for a second, but ultimately follows me back into the pub, toward our table. we're met with the familiar sounds of the pubgoers, glasses clinking and people laughing and having a good time.

"WILBUR SOOT!" george exclaims upon seeing us enter.

"is he.. drunk?" wil asks amusedly. i step up to the brunette sitting at our table, then lean down to see his face properly. "how much have you had to drink there, georgie?" i ask, hoping he'll answer honestly.

"we did shots!" he smiles, pointing at the tabletop. i look over at all the shot glasses, then at cadmium. "how many did you have, caddy?" i ask, which she fully ignores. "is that wilbur? hi, wilbur!" she smiles, waving at him.

"hello." he says with a smirk, finding the whole situation a bit funny.

"focus, caddy! how much have you both had to drink?" I ask, this time more seriously. "five shots, plus a vodka soda. he had six and his own vodka sofa." she answers with a professional nod, attempting to pass at being sober.

"you mean soda?" i ask, which causes her to nearly fall off her chair in a fit of giggles, clinging on to george to keep her balance.

"don't make me fall!" he pleads, trying to keep them both upright. "i'm too good looking to hurt this face!" this statement seems to only motivate her to make them both topple over, and they end up on the floor, laughing hysterically and drenching caddy's shirt in some sort of fruity drink.

"london bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down.." she sings, fully unbothered, to which george laughs even harder. wil and i turn to each other, then look back at our friends who are now struggling to get back in their chairs.

"what do we do?" he asks, turning back to me. 

"i guess... bring them back to my flat? george was supposed to stay there anyway, and caddy can stay in the second bed in the guest room with him." i answer, though i'm still thinking over the idea myself.

normally i'd never let my best friend sleep in a room with someone i just met, but this was george and i know that no matter how pissed up he was that he'd never do anything to her. i'd trust him with my life.

"alright c'mon caddy, let's get you into this," wilbur says, taking off his jumper and putting it over her damp shirt before helping her out of her chair. "i'm fine, i've got it thank you." she says once she's up. i can tell she's trying not to make a horrible first impression on wil, but truthfully I don't think she could anyway.

"hey- alright there via?" he asks, bringing me back into the present by pressing a hand to my face. i put my hand over his, opening it so that his palm is out, and place a kiss in the very middle before closing it into a fist.

"everything's okay, beanpole. let's just get these two idiots home."