Art creds to: peppermint_cuddle on instagram, their art is so pretty looking, I love the color scheme :0
Requested: no
Character: Wilbur
Setting: Graveyard/Wilburs house
TWs for this chapter:
• All caps yelling/yelling
• Swearing (just in case)
• Cuts/blood/minor injury
A/N: Heyyy, I really like this chapter and I hope you do too, it's also a longer one. Happy holidays (:
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|*~Wilbur POV (3rd person)~*|
1 strum
2 strums
3 strums
4 strums
His fingers fell into place as he strummed the chord again and again. Focusing on the complicated melodies and hand positions to play music has become quite the distraction for Wilbur. A good distraction. Being able to play his feelings rather than feel them has been nice.
He felt bad for his guitar however. He'd gotten her when he was 15 and now it's been two years. He asked for her too, but he never played. He didn't know why, however he didn't regret starting up again. One boring day, he was going through old stuff to pass the time when he discovered his discarded lady, Althea. And yes, he named his guitar, just like a ship. She's been helping him a lot recently so why not give her a proper identity?
(If anyone in the comments plays guitar/ukulele, please tell me you guys give yours names too? I don't feel like that's a weird thing but I don't know anyone else who does, besides Wilbur. My ukuleles name is Evelyn :]. Anyways, back to the story!)
Anyways, that's not the point.
He was walking to the cemetery. something about it he found calming. Maybe the presence of the ones who "passed on" but were really still there, something edgy like that. Besides the fact the graveyard was nice, he'd seen the people in movies go there to play guitar so why not?
"Everyone I love is gonna die, and I, will die as well.." (Momento Mori- Crywank)
Ah, perfect song for a place where the deceased reside.
His finger slipped down a string and was swiftly cut. A small line of blood appeared on his finger as he winced in pain. He scrunched his face and cursed
"Fuck!"
He's gonna need a bandaid for that I presume, oh well. He's now walking back home, crossing his feet as he stepped, tunnel vision on the cemented tiles, making sure not to step on the cracks. Phil's back was already broken enough from old age. Jokes jokes, but he wondered how Phil was. They hadn't spoken much recently and he missed talking to his dad. I mean, it was mostly his fault, closing himself off. Skipping school. keeping secrets. The whole shebang.
He kicked around a stone mindlessly as he walked.
And yes, he was skipping school. I bet you could guess what for. To play his stupid guitar. His grades and attendance were fucked, the semester was almost over so there's not much he could do now other than hope Phil wouldn't be too mad. The silence was nice for now I guess.
He grabbed his house key and opened the door. Phil was in the living room and greeted him, he waved back and went upstairs. He knew Phil had frowned when he left but like most things, oh well. He grabbed a bandaid, tearing off the wrapper with his teeth not bothering with the trash.
Oh. fucking. well.
Hm, angsty and maybe just a tad but aggressive.
He did what he always did and he continued playing his guitar.
"I got boulders on my shoulders collarbones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back" (Be nice to me- The Front Bottoms)
After a while
"Knock knock.." Phil said, gently pushing the door open. Wilbur acted like he didn't hear him and continued playing, louder this time. until.
*80;n$?!* (mm yes, totally the sound a string snapping makes)
"AH!?&!;!" Wilbur breathed out through his teeth as he shook his hand out. His string had snapped lashing back and hitting his fingers.
"Ah- I see you're busy..?" Phil said, making eye contacted with his son who was still seething in pain
"Well.. dinners in five minutes so.. I'd like to see you there today"
"Okay" Wilbur breathed out, the pain fading
Phil nodded and closed the door, giving him a weak smile.
Poor Althea.. No more guitar for Wilbur tonight. I guess he'd have to join his family for dinner. And probably get ice for his hand. And apologize to Althea and fix her string. But first.. dinner. So he trudged down the stairs and put on his best happy face so he might be able to tolerate this for a few minutes.
tick
tick
tick
The clock slowly ticked by and now they were all sitting at the dinner table. No one said a word. His brothers just sat intimidated as Phil seemed to be waiting for something.
"So... Wilbur.."
Oh no.
"The school called and.. it appears you've been skipping school?" He looked to Wilbur to confirm it was true
Wilbur sighed and said "Yes. I have."
"Why??" Phil looked at him with both worry and anger
Wilbur looked at him dully before saying
"To play my guitar."
There was no point in lying because he had nothing else to do. Maybe Phil would believe the library, but everyday? Then he'd ask what he was doing at the library and so on. Point is, Wilbur isn't interesting enough to be doing anything cool.
"That stupid thing has taken over your life! You don't talk to us anymore, you don't come out of your room, you don't go to school, all you do 24/7 is play that stupid fucking guitar!! And why?? Is it really more important than your own family? your grades? You're completely destroying the social aspect of your life. You need to stop playing for once and actually pay attention to what's going on around you." Phil shouted at him.
Wilbur looked at him stunned, which turned to anger. His brothers just watched in silence
"You want me to talk to you? Well here's some words. My guitar means more to me than you do? How about that. I don't care about my grades, I don't care about the 'social aspect of my life' bullshit, and I don't. care. about you."
With that he ran upstairs and shut his door.
The silent atmosphere of his room was way nicer. He sat on his bed and looked to Althea.
"Don't worry, you aren't stupid... goodnight Althea"
With that he let the silence consume him as he drifted off to hopefully a better place.
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|*~Still Wilbur POV (3rd person)~*|
(Now it's the morning, just to be clear)
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
"STOP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HER?!"
"WHAT I SHOULD'VE DONE EARLIER."
*beep beep beep*
Wilbur had run out of the house and had no plan in going to school today either. Phil already knew he was ditching classes so it didn't make much of a difference.
As per usual, he went to the graveyard. He sat down against the fence and put his head in his arms.
"I hate my dad." He said
A tear rolled down his face, being caught by the cotton in his sweater.
"I fucking hate my dad." He said again
A choked sob was muffled by his arms as he began to cry more.
Althea was gone. His dad-... Phil, fucking smashed her. He left without the pieces, leaving them in the house. He regretted that knowing that Phil was probably going to throw them away.
Wilbur realized he was being a bit of a dick but.. Phil went too far.
And of course he had to go and name her and get an attachment to her, which was making it all the more painful to watch his father take his best friend and break her into a million pieces. Strings where in every which way and the body was completely destroyed. Even if he did have the parts he didn't know how he could fix her.
"Oh althea... i'm so sorry."
He continued to cry. All he did was sit there.
It really did feel like losing a loved one. As Phil said, it was just a stupid guitar right? Wrong... She was there for him more than Phil ever was. And now she's gone.
Wilbur stayed at the graveyard until late into the afternoon. He dreaded coming home, he didn't want to see Phil, or hear his apologies, if even that. But he had to go back eventually.
So he did.
Surprisingly however, he was met with silence.
(What's not surprising is how much you can save with Geico)
Phil wasn't in the kitchen, or the living room, or in his room..
Wilbur didn't really care though. As long as he was away from Phil he would be fine.
*knock knock*
He heard a knock at his door...
"Unless you're Phil, come in" He said with venom on his tongue. He had somewhat gotten through the sadness stage, now he was angry at Phil. Every moment he spent thinking about that dreadful specimen...
Oh, it was Tommy.
His expression softened as his younger brother walked into the room.
"What's up Toms?" He asked the boy
"Hmm, well I know you're probably kind of upset right now.. and I don't know how well it'll work but.."
Wilbur eyed the boy as if to say 'go on'
From behind the door Tommy grabbed none other than Althea, his guitar. She looked mostly fixed but you could see where she had broken. This must've taken Tommy forever...
Wilbur smiled at him
"I tried to fix your guitar.."
Wilbur got off of his bed and went to hug him
"You did great Tommy."
Tommy hugged him back and they stayed like that for a moment
Wilbur let go and put his hands on his shoulders before saying
"Thank you. so much.."
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1600 words
CRIMEBOYS CRIMEBOYS CRIMEBOYS 🦝💜🦝💜🦝💜🦝
I was gonna make phil redeem himself but this is definitely better
And I really am curious, is it common to name instruments? I feel like it's like naming a car, not a lot of people do it but it's not that weird if they do. Unless they love their car more than their wives. Then it's a problem
But id never cheat on my /p husband with my ukulele.. nooo
(Eleanor 👀😅) /j
Anyways
I appreciate you all for showing up and continuing to read
I hope you're having a good day/night/whatever time it is for you
Here's an optional hug headpat or handshake
and some blue: 🥶🥶🥶❄️❄️❄️
- Crow 🎅