Stop Calling me That (mcyt + ftm reader) -Book 1/2-

-42-

He picked up anyway, bracing himself for the worst. Somehow, it still didn't prepare him.

"Hello?" His voice came across unsteady, and he mentally cursed it.

"D/n? Oh, I've finally gotten ahold of you."

He panicked and hung up.

The other two in the room were watching him when he looked up, clearly slightly concerned as to whatever was going on.

"Y/n? What's-" Wilbur stopped as his phone started ringing, gesturing that he had to answer. "Hello!" he paused. "Yes, hello M/n, D/n is here yes-"

Y/n tried to silently communicate the situation, but there isn't exactly an alternate way to say 'help I'm scared that someone somehow outed me to my mom despite me not having any friends she talks to and also she might be mad at me for cutting my hair what do I do please don't make me talk to her' with your eyes.

Yet, in that brief moment of eye contact, Wilbur seemed to get the gist well enough.

"Ah, she must've lost connection. Is something wrong?" Again he waited for a response, seemingly almost as nervous as Y/n was, and equally as uncertain what was going on. "Can you talk to her? Oh, well, um-" he looked to Y/n, who shook his head. "Uh-"

Phil tapped his shoulder, taking the phone.

"Hi, sorry, adult here. You're D/n's mother?" he asked before going quiet, nodding along as she spoke as if she could see him. He stood, pacing around the edge of the room, humming once in a while, before stopping entirely. "You found- right but," he trailed off. Y/n couldn't make out the words, but could hear the buzz of a voice from the other end.

A dark look came over Phil, as if he was ready to earnestly cuss his mother out, before it vanished like a cloud of smoke.

"Alright, I understand. I'll let him know," he hung up and passed Wilbur his phone, walking to the door and putting his coat on. "We've got to go get your things, you've got a flight booked in three hours."

((Fuck it time skip, 2 hours))

Y/n tightened his grip on the handle to his suitcase, looking around anxiously. It wasn't so much the current situation as it was the possibility of what was to come; the implications of getting called to go home, and what that would mean moving forward. Phil's tone, and the swap of pronouns at the end of the call, suggested she already knew more than he was hoping. He wondered just how much she'd found out, and what she would do about it.

But for now.. he tried to make his peace with it. He would know when he knew, and until then, he just had to keep calm. He paused in his scanning of the room as his eyes crossed a familiar figure.

"It's that guy!" he whispered to Wilbur, almost buzzing with excitement.

"The um, the what?" he asked, half paying attention as he looked around to find a sign to figure out where they were.

"The one I passed to in the store the other day" he laughed nervously, realizing Wilbur likely hadn't remembered that moment as strongly as himself. "I ran into him again the other day, I don't know, do you think I should talk to him?"

Wilbur turned to him, suddenly more attentive. He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around the large room briefly before turning back to him, concerned.

"Overly friendly strangers that keep showing up where you are aren't usually a good sign," he half mumbled. "Does he seem at all off?"

"No, he's not-" Y/n huffed, anxious he'd leave before he got a chance. "Just think it'd be cool to make a friend."

Wilbur sighed. "Alright, alright." He smiled, and if Y/n hadn't known him better he would never have guessed it might've been forced. "Where is this charmer?" he joked.