Wiggle for me, Senpai

10 years later.

I was a survivor. The only documented human to pull a nerve in their neck and survive. I made the cover of news papers, countless magazines, and I was always scheduled for an interview.
I always met the reporters with a soft smile and an interesting story, but despite all the fame, despite all the company and questions, I was alone.
A deep, hollow hole in my heart was growing and pulsing every day since 10 years ago—the day I gave up my one, true love.
I hadn't talked to peewee since the decision, and Peewee was pretty active back then, sending me, "I'm sorry" messages, and "Please...Baby" letters. I ignored them all, for my sake, something I deeply regret.
It wasn't him; it was me, and the entire decision was blunt and about me. I'd never considered how Peewee felt.
He stopped sending me messages after six months; by then he knew I was done. He probably moved on. He probably found another man, someone else to keep him company. They probably fell in love. He was probably happy. The only problem, though, is that that man wasn't me.
I still had his number, and a week ago I sent him a message. He never saw it. Or he never responded.

I breathed the cold Chicago air as I walked to an interviewer's apartment.
A bus passed, and I saw a face. Round nose, thin eyes, thick eyebrows. I recognized it. In a split second, the bus was gone, but I saw someone. Pee...I thought. Peewee...?
Peewee.
It was peewee.
I grinned, realizing what this could mean. "Peewee!" I called, running the way the bus passed. "Peewee!" After about a dozen cars and some flustered pedestrians, I gave up.
I started walking the way I came, telling myself it was useless. I couldn't catch that bus, and even if it was peewee, he surely wouldn't remember me.
But still, I wondered.

I made my way up creaky stairs and a complex door and was met by a gentle smile of a reporter. "I'm here with the legendary inspiration, Wilbert Finn! Helloooooo, Chicago!" She sung, and I couldn't help but smile alone with her. "Hellllloooo!" I chorused, and the reporter laughed. I saw general happiness in her eyes. She reminded me of peewee when she smiled. Peewee.
Something in me cracked. Shattered. It took all the strength in me to compose myself, instead of bawling like a baby in front of live television.
"Hey, would it be weird if I could guess your name right now?" I said, and the reporter faltered.
"Ummm, yeah it would!" She exclaimed, laughing, returning to her happy aura.
I grinned. "Peeweet." The reporter hesitated.
"Uhh, what?" She asked.
"Peeweet. Your name is peeweet, and you're a sister to a guy named Peewee."
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it immediately.
"I...I," she said, reaching to shut off the camera.
"H-h-how did you know?" I smiled, sadly.
"I knew Peewee. He was a great guy." I miss him.
I almost said it, but it would give too much away.
Peeweet smiled. "Oh, uh, what happened?" She pondered, reaching to touch my shoulder.
I shook my head. "We fell in love. The rest is history."
Peeweet stood there. "I didn't know he was ga....Uh, so, do you still know him? Do you keep in touch?" I shook my head.
"But," I said, "could you do me a favor?"
Peeweet smiled. "Any friend of Peewee is a friend of mine." I leaned in to her ear.
She nodded.