||Discontinued|| Starlights (REWRITE)

Chapter 4

Warnings: mentions of disassociation, underage drinking
_________________________

Wilbur decided that he would grab his phone and shoot Schlatt a message. He decided that it would be over Snapchat though, so that he could delete it if he panicked. Augh, another bad habit of his. -- Deleting messages off of Snapchat or Discord whenever he got anxious about what he sent.-- He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. He checked the various unread messages from Schlatt on Messenger, wanting to get a hint of what could possibly be an outcome.

Big Guy--2:07 A.M.
Wil? Ar yiu alriht?
Wikbhr plesse andwer tje pjonr
> Missed Call
Wilbur please.
I'm sorrh, wjat did I dp wromg?

Pleade im geting worried

It wad jist a jokee

Are you maad abdout yhe windoe thjng?

Wilbur skipped ahead to the most recent messages:

Big Guy--3:19 A.M.
Wil Im sorry
It sas jist a joke,
Us fallonh?
I founf it fumny
It wad alk judt aa joke wilbur
Im gokng ti slwwp now
Plesse be safe.

Wilbur flopped back on his bed, letting his phone softly drop on his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes --How could Schlatt find it funny? It was probably the most embarrassing thing that Wilbur had experienced in his seventeen years of life.

Wilbur let out a low, almost guttural groan, his emotions weighing heavily on his already low spirit. Why did he think about taking love advice from the aromantic? Of course, this wouldn't have worked. Six hours passed since Schlatt's last text, and Wilbur guessed that the other was still asleep. Texting already seemed wrong after the night's mess, but with Schlatt's attitude to it, Wilbur realized their connection wasn't the same from Schlatt's messages. The messages of concern seemed genuine, but there was an undertone that seemed detached.

"This is all just a joke to him." Wilbur muttered under his breath, frustrated and bitter. He shut his eyes and was met with the memory of the unfortunate mishap --when his drunken self tripped over Schlatt.

After all, it was just a joke. Schlatt found it funny.

"Fuck him" The words escaped from his mouth in a hiss, followed by a barely audible snarl that showed his resentment and hurt. "Fuck him and his stupid, pretty face."

Calm down. He told himself. You're being irrational.

That's right. He's projecting his stupid feelings again, and if he continues he'll just create a further worse tension between him and Schlatt.

Wilbur exhaled deeply, wanting to regain his sense of self and not cause a further rift in between whatever the hell had happened the night before. He couldn't allow his simmering emotions to screw up anything else.

...

"...bur? Earth to Wilbur?" A hand waved in front of Wil's vacant gaze. When did he sit back up?

"Huh?" Wilbur blinked, his attention snapping back to the present. Phil stood before him, concern etched across his features like an open book. "Oh, hi Dad," he mumbled his voice tinged with a mild surprise. "Why are you in my room?"

Phil's brows furrowed, the worry in his eyes deepening. Uh oh. "Did I do something wrong?" Wilbur questioned. He doesn't know about the drinking, does he? Oh prime, he probably does, that's why he's in here.

"Wil, it's almost one in the afternoon." Phil's voice took a gentle tone, his fatherly concern evident in every syllable.

Oh thank Prime he hadn't been caught.