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"what idea, tubbo?" i gushed.

"but we'll need some help. and we'll need it fast." he continued.

this was one of the first times i had seen someone part of the SMP seem so serious, it almost made me laugh.

the bus came to a halt in front of our hotel as i checked the time from the colossal clock, hung up to intimidate anyone who set an eye upon it: 18:42.

"but we have only 24 hours and a hotel room," minx contradicted.

"not any ordinary hotel room, we have a quarter of the floor to ourselves," tubbo said, standing up from his seat to go out.

we came filing out of the bus, and, as we walked into the lobby, tubbo led us to the lift, but schemed while walking because he didn't want to waste any time.

"okay, george, order pizza from the nearest place. tommy, use netflix to find the best line-up of movies for the next 24 hours, report back to me once you have," tubbo outlined while reaching for the lift button.

"minx, wilbur— use your social media platforms to tease the reveal, post only in stories and tweets, we want to be recognised, not liked,"

"damn tub-," karl began before being cut off.

"karl, ask jimmy to promote on EVERY social media he has, the stans will go crazy, also take pictures with sapnap in the background, sapnap, do the same," tubbo demanded, pausing as an elderly couple came out of the elevator.

he waited until the doors shut and the elevator lifted us up.

"y/n, alex, make some music," he said, it was sweet and short. but i stood there wide-eyed— i didn't know he actually looked through my account. there was some silence as i pondered about it.

"don't act like you didn't stalk our accounts too," alex said, lifting the hush.

i had only posted 1 or 2 things about music and me having anything to do with it. i never thought i was good or anything, so i just left it on friends only for the viewing and kinda just left it at that.

"dream, we need to brainstorm, everybody report to the stream room before we begin, make sure you have all equipment set up if you need it, yes?" tubbo beseeched.

"sir, yes, sir," we replied, not quite in perfect unison.

"good, now, go, go, GO!" he urged.

we had to let a few cleaners pass by before he repeated himself again,

"go, go, GO!"

i got the key card out of my purse and rushed inside as the others followed. we all split off into the different areas of the penthouse; this is so fucking crazy, i thought.

alex basically chased after me while i rushed into our shared room.

"got a mic?" i asked him and he magically pulled one out with a pop filter and all.

"got a voice?" he joked back.

"i don't think i'm that good at singing,"

"well, just try your hardest. from what i heard in that video, you were hella awesome,"

"okay, thanks, uh- i didn't mean for that to sound sarcastic-, where can we get a guitar and keyboard on a short notice?"

"1.4 miles away," he said, typing away on his phone's keyboard.



i threw open the door again, we had only been in the room for a few seconds.

affection. | dreamwastakenWhere stories live. Discover now