Red's Family Diner

Chapter 15

July 8th, 1963

Glam Undergroove —

I found myself nibbling at my nails as I strolled around the Diner. Did I accidentally just set up Wilbur for his own murder? Red threatened me to warn him! I don't know why I actually stuck with it! Stupid! Fucking Stupid!

I kept walking around, before reaching my office and decided to pace around more there. I'm going to see either one–maybe even both!-- On a milk carton for missing! And I'm their only last resource! I sat down, restless on my chair as I began to spin. "Am I to blame?" I muttered, before hearing an office door open and slam shut. I stuck my foot out of my chair as I launched myself off. Walking towards the hallway to stand there. I spotted Red's Office was still vacant but Wilbur's wasn't. His light was on. He didn't die! I smiled and strolled right up to the door, opening it to see him taking off his coat.

"Oh." He said, taken completely off guard as I couldn't help but notice how his hair was chopped. It wasn't its usual mullet but rather shorter than typical. His ear was bandaged well but he seemingly was deluding from the hearing category. "Wilbur!" I said, raising my hands up as he seemed still confused. "Yeah?" He responded, making my hands shoot straight back down. "I–I thought you...died!" I said, harshly whispering the end of my sentence since I had noticed the office door was open. I stepped in completely shutting the door now as Wilbur smiled softly. "Oh. No, I wish sometimes but I'm sadly alive." He said as I chuckled. "I thought he got you for good! I mean!---" I started before watching his entire body language change. "He didn't arrive. And the bandages on my ear are from an accident I pulled when cleaning the house." He spoke rather quickly to end the conversation. He even shivered slightly, I could catch it. "Well, then where's our pal, Red?" I asked. Wilbur turned, adjusting his tie, as he grinned. "Somewhere on vacation that's for sure." He said as I noticed there really was something off. Wilbur's right ear may have been suspiciously bandaged and that goes for the same way as how he slightly limped around but his right eye looked more of a tinted yellow. His iconic purple pupil in that right eyeball was also turning a hint of pink. I may not know science–but that's not normal. Especially throughout a couple of days. "Do you have pink eye?" I asked as Wilbur turned around, holding onto his desk as clear support for his limp. "No? What are you on about?" He responded, which made me click my tongue. "Nothing–I'm just glad you're alive. I hope Red returns soon...since I could tell he wasn't really well." I said, opening the office door. Returning back to my office with a slightly clearer consciousness.

July 11th, 1963

Nova got more worried when she realized that Red's disappearance had been more clear. "Do you have any idea?" She asked me again for the fourth time as I rolled my eyes. "Yes! Wilbur just said they talked it out!" I claimed. Which feels pretty bluntly a lie. "That's clearly not the truth!--" She gets it. "What if he's hiding some horrible truth and is actually–" Nova continued before watching me grab my briefcase and approach the front door. "Glam! Don't walk away mid-conversation!" She cried as I stood there for a while. Spotting Drew in the living room coloring and doing homework simultaneously. He seemingly stopped to watch us which made me agitated. "When are we going to return Drew back to Wilbur?" I asked, watching Nova grow more furious. "I get you hate it whenever someone else is the topic of a conversation but can we just ignore Drew's situation right now? I'm asking you important questions since Wilbur doesn't physically answer his phone!" She spoke, her voice slightly raising to show dominance. "Well, then why don't you go in the car and drive to his house? He'll obviously answer the door! Maybe bring Drew with you!" I spoke. Nova's mouth gritted into a forced smile as she stormed towards Drew, packing his bags and picking his stuff up. "Then why don't you bring Drew to Wilbur to the Diner? Maybe this will teach you to be grateful for the way life has been treating you." She shouted–shoving Drew and me out of the house before slamming the door. "She's scary when mad, Uncle Glam" Drew spoke still holding some crayons in his hands as I groaned. Babysitting duty. The worst part of this entire ordeal. "Yeah. She gets scary that's for sure." I said, approaching the car as I could hear Drew's footsteps trail around to wait for the passenger door to unlock.