Wilbu r soot x microphone

chaotEr uno 😍❗️

Wilbru soup POV:
*ever since I was little, doing those Christmas plays where Ihad to do speakin parts.. I've always felt as if.. I had a connection to a microphone..?

I don't know, just the wathey look.. the perfect, scrumptious sound they make when you tap them.. just ugh. They're easy to hold, and adjustable, unlike any womsn I've met. Maybe a microphone can't cook or clean, but that doesn't matter to me.

And there I was, walking out to the stabe, towards the mic. Mark sat at the drums spinning the drum stick, Ash tuned his Bass a bit, and Joe was being Joe.

Everyone was cheering, as I waved to the crowd and wrappe my guitar back around to the front. I smiled as I grabbed the microphone stand, greeting the crod. I announced the next song as Ash started with the bass.

I played guitar for the part I needed to, but once I had a break, I passionately grabbed the microphone, singing my heart out. I would be overwhelmed by the coresd, but I was almost making out with the microphone.. but I had to stop. I looked down back at my guitar, playing it skirlkfulhly, already sweating. This kept happening throughout the performance. Before I knew it the performance was over. Just a typical concert.

First the audience left, cheering and screaming, waving and giggling. I looked back at the band, and Joes and Ash were already backstage. Damn. I watched Mark wobble back stage, honestly I could see how drums could be tiring. I looked back at the mic, and heard something.

I raised an eyebrow, I swear that mic just talked*

"Wilbur" *I heard in a small, monotone woman voice*