THANK YOU [JOE LOCKE]

5.

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"It's a strange kind of fear, wondering if they see through my walls and know the truth I've buried."

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Wylan slowly woke up, rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling of his room, illuminated by the morning sun. Light streamed through the curtains, and his small apartment began to wake up along with him. The phone on his nightstand showed six o'clock, reminding him of the busy day ahead. He had filming scheduled at the Smosh office and, more importantly, an evening meeting with Joe. As the thought resurfaced, a nervous flutter stirred in his stomach. It wasn't just nerves—it was excitement mixed with doubt about whether he could handle it.

He slowly sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, mentally reminding himself to stay productive today, even though his thoughts kept wandering elsewhere. He got up and headed to the bathroom, where he splashed cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess—not surprising. It had been warm the night before, so he had slept shirtless, something he now regretted. The scars on his body seemed to mock him, a constant reminder of the tough life he'd had in Boston, even though he always claimed things had been great. The largest and deepest scar, on his right chest, was still slightly red, even though he'd had it for over eight years. He hated that one the most. Because of it, he avoided swimming in public and hated wearing shirts at the pool or beach. When he did, it made him feel out of place, so he rarely went.

While brushing his teeth, he debated what to wear. He wanted something comfortable for filming but also wanted to look good for the evening. Finally, he decided not to overthink it—Joe wouldn't want him to change his style for him anyway.

After a quick shower, he opened his wardrobe to face the chaos he'd created searching for clothes yesterday morning. He sighed and began sifting through the mess. Eventually, he pulled out black jeans, a white tank top, and his favorite plaid shirt with blue and red patterns. He chose white sneakers to complete the outfit. Standing before the mirror, he tried everything on and nodded—simple, yet it worked. It was quintessentially his style, one fans adored despite occasionally suggesting he try something different. While he dressed extravagantly for premieres and often made best-dressed lists, his everyday look was casual and unassuming, allowing him to blend in. That's how he liked it. He preferred to go unnoticed, avoiding unnecessary attention.

He left his messy hair as it was, running his fingers through it for a slightly neater look. That was when he felt most like himself.

Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he took one last glance around the apartment to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and stepped outside. The sunny, pleasant weather instantly lifted his mood. No one was picking him up today, so he headed to the bus stop—his only way to the office. Walking wasn't an option since it was about a thirty-minute trip, and walking that far early in the morning wasn't appealing, especially when he was already cutting it close.

As he arrived at the Smosh office parking lot, he spotted familiar cars—Courtney must already be inside, and the others likely too. He pulled out his phone to quickly check for messages—one could never be too sure when someone might need them. More than once, he'd been scheduled to come in at 1 p.m., only for Ian to text him at 8 a.m. asking him to fill in for someone. Joe had confirmed their meeting yesterday, but there were no new messages from him this morning. Smiling at the memory of their last conversation, Wylan confidently walked into the building.

Amanda, seated at the reception desk, greeted him with a wide smile that seemed permanently etched on her face. "Good morning, Wylan. Ready for filming?"