so what if i'm different? (ON HOLD*)

chapter 1

Dear Wilbur Hansen,
It's the first day of school, and I am NOT thrilled. I don't know if it's because I'm anxiety-ridden depressed kid, Evan Hansen's brother, or if it's because I'm Wilbur Hansen, also an anxiety-ridden depressed kid. Besides age, there's only one difference between me and my brother Evan; my anger issues.

That's what most people would call it. I have no diagnosis, and our mom doesn't want to spend money on one since it's inconsistent; at least that's what she thinks. And anyway, I don't think we have the money for it either.

Whatever though, today will be a good enough day because even though school sucks, I still get to see my only friend, Zoe Murphy.

That's it.

Sincerely, Me.

This letter is absolutely perfect, problem is, Evan and I have to show our letter's to our therapist, Dr Sherman; meaning I have to cut out my 'anxious and depressed' parts. We have until Wednesday, so I'll fix it later.

We're supposed to write these letters to ourselves every day, but Evan and I have been slacking ever since Evan broke his arm.

The difference between our letters is quite funny. Evan's starts with:
"Dear Evan Hansen, Today is going to be a good day, and here's why:"

Mine start with:
"Dear Wilbur Hansen, It's (insert what day it is), and I'm thrilled/ not thrilled."

Alright, it's not funny, but I think it's funny that Evan actually does his job and makes it into a pep-talk. I don't particularly try with mine; I just write whatever makes sense.

I hear a knock on the door. It's Evan.
"W- Will? you awake? We leave in 45 minutes."

"yeah, I'm awake. I was just writing my letter for therapy." I say closing my laptop.

"Oh yeah... M- Me too."

"Really? I don't believe that one bit. You definitely went on a tangent and ended up with nothing but 'Dear Evan Hansen'" I say in a teasing way.

Before Evan can answer me, our mom calls from downstairs.

"WILBUR!! HURRY UP AND EAT BEFORE YOU LEAVE!! YOU TOO EVAN!!"

We look at each other and sigh. Evan walks out, and I quickly change into a random grey shirt from my closet. I'd like to mention that our mother loves to make us match. My grey shirt looks exactly like Evan's; a striped short-sleeved polo shirt. It's unfair, mine looks like some sort of floor pattern while Evan's looks at least somewhat presentable.

I finish up changing, and run down the stairs; my 6 black bracelets clanging on the railing. Evan is already sitting down, eating a bowl of plain Cheerios. I pour some of his Cheerios into a bowl and grab the milk out of the fridge. I take out a cup to pour the milk into. It's kinda depressing that all I eat is plain Cheerios every morning without milk. I sit down with my food next to Evan, and I chug my milk.

After a minute of silence, Mom starts talking.

"Have you guys been writing those letters to yourselves? 'Dear Evan Hansen and Dear Wilbur Hansen, This is going to be a good day, and here's why;'!!" she says enthusiastically.

"We started them," I say.

"Those letters are important!! They're going to help you guys build your confidence!" Mom says.

"I guess," Evan mumbles.

"I'm telling you guys, this year is the year we step up the letters! This year we decide we're not giving up before we tried!! Alright?" Mom tries to be optimistic, but it's clear none of us are.

Silence arises again, but is quickly broken by our mother once more.

"Hey, I know Evan! You can go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast. How 'bout that?" she says, even more enthusiastically than last time.

"Perfect," Evan responds.

"I'm proud of you already," Mom says.

"Do you need a Sharpie? I'll give you one for mom's genius idea," I say, teasing Evan once more.

"Wilbur, that's enough of mocking your brother. This applies to you too." Mom says, trying to sound stern, but just ended up sounding desperate.

"Whatever, we better get going. The bus is almost here," I say, while Evan lets out a sigh.

one:

I have no clue what happened prior to this moment. All I know is that I'm awake, it's the first day of school, and I don't want to go. Oh yeah, and I'm high. That was a little too much honesty, but it's true.

As I go down the stairs, one of my bracelets gets caught on the handrailing and snaps; beads scattering. I absolutely hate beaded bracelets for this exact reason. I ignore it and keep going down.

I open the fridge, and I take out the milk. Zoe takes a glance at me and we make eye contact. She can definitely tell that I'm high. When Zoe looks away, I quickly chug the milk straight from the carton to subside any effects. If Zoe can tell I'm high, Cynthia and Larry will too; probably. Either that or they won't give a shit. By the way, Cynthia and Larry are my parents. I'm not a huge fan of calling them "Mom and Dad".

I take a seat across from Zoe at the table. No food, no nothing. I'm not hungry. Cynthia and Larry come down to sit too. I put my head down before I could make eye contact with anyone.

"You excited for school Connor?" Cynthia asks.

"No, and I'm not going. I'll just go tomorrow." I reply with assertiveness.

"It's your senior year Connor! You are not missing the first day!" Cynthia says loudly.

"I already said I'd go tomorrow. I'm trying to find a compromise here," I reply.

"Are you getting involved here? Or are you too busy looking at your email Larry?" Cynthia says, looking at Larry intensely.

Larry looks up from his phone. Then he looks at me, then looks at Cynthia.

"You have to go to school Connor," he says.

"That's all your going to say?" Cynthia asks, annoyed by Larry's response.

"What am I supposed to say? He doesn't listen. Look at him, he's not listening. He's probably high," he says whilst making a hand movement towards me.

"He's DEFINITELY high," Zoe declares.

"FUCK YOU," I say.

"FUCK YOU!!" Zoe responds as she finishes up her cereal, ready to get some more.

Before Zoe could get up to get more cereal, Cynthia cuts her off.

"I do not need you picking at your brother right now! That is not constructive!" she says, louder than last time.

"Are you kidding?" Zoe asks, with a slight laugh whilst saying it.

"Besides!! He's NOT high," Cynthia says.

I look up, knowing damn well I'm higher than the FUCKING moon right now. I try not to burst out laughing, but I end up having a slight laugh in the process.

"You are not going to school HIGH Connor! We talked about this!" Cynthia demands.

"Perfect! So then I won't go!! Thanks, Mom!" I say as I storm out of the room.

I end up getting ready since I'll probably be forced to go anyway. From downstairs I hear Zoe yell:

"CONNOR FINISHED THE MILK!!"

Putting my last book into my worn-down green messenger bag, I hear Zoe yell once more.

"IF CONNOR'S NOT READY I'M LEAVING WITHOUT HIM"

I run down the stairs chasing after Zoe.

"OH NO, YOU DON'T!! IF YOU LEAVE WITHOUT ME, YOU'RE FUCKED!" I yell.

"CONNOR!! THAT'S ENOUGH. BE NICE TO YOUR SISTER AND GO TO SCHOOL!" Cynthia yells as I run out the door.