Chapter Text
“How do, Niki?” Tommy asks loudly as he walks into Niki’s Cafe a few days later.
Niki looks up from organizing something behind the counter. She obviously didn’t recognize Tommy, which is something he is used to by now.
“Um, Hello. Can I get anything for you today?” She says warily, as if surprised by Tommy’s booming voice. He knows he’s being rude, but he can’t find it in him to care.
Ignoring her question, Tommy scans his eyes around the room. The antique furniture makes its mark on the cafe, and if he didn’t know better, Tommy would have thought this place was much older than it was. The accents of pink on the walls match the colorful sign outside, with the little booths at the sides of the room following suit. The whole place smells of caffeine, which is what most people go to a cafe for, so it makes sense. Tommy much prefers the light pastries that Niki specializes in, however.
Out of the corner of his eye, in the furthest booth in the back, Tommy sees a flash of red if only for a second. He almost jumps a little at the sight, as it could be who he has been looking for during the past week. Tommy needed to speak with him again, no matter what. Wilbur could be the only person immune to his curse.
Even though he interacts with the same people, everything in Tommy’s life is introductions. He’s known the people in his life for years, speaking to them all almost everyday, yet they’ve all never heard of him. The idea of a continued conversation, of fond inside jokes and memories, are completely foreign to Tommy. Instead, everything feels robotic, like everyone around him repeats the same dialog when they first meet him. Sure he can have long conversations with them, but if they don’t remember anything what's even the point.
He recalls one day early in the summer a few months ago, when the sun was high in the sky and the city was at its hottest. The air conditioning in Tommy’s apartment building had gone out, and his room was basically a sauna. Even better, he had no ice in his apartment, nothing to escape from the raging heat. He couldn’t sleep that whole night, as his room felt like it was on fire. Out of desperation (and boredom), he decided to approach his neighbors because he knew they always became prepared for times like these.
Sure, Tommy had talked to Tubbo and Ranboo before. They had plenty of late night talks and board game parties, and he genuinely enjoyed their company. Out of anyone in his life, he would consider the two to be his best friends. But his curse decided to take away any prospect of friends in his life, and all those memories are nonexistent to the other two.
That night under the heat of summer seemed different than the others, maybe it was Tommy’s exhaustion or frustration at his situation, probably both. As Tubbo and Ranboo answered the door, he couldn’t hide the relief upon his face when he saw a miniature air conditioner in the back of their dusty space. Of course, the two boys let Tommy stay the night and they talked like they always do when he decides to come ‘introduce’ himself.
With the boys on the floor lying around the small machine, enjoying the company and listening to the low hum as the cool air spills out, Tommy almost felt normal. After all, these were his best friends and they have known each other for more than half a year at this point. Tommy had laughed with them, cried with them, and heard some of their stories. In his dreams, he could imagine them all remembering those moments, and cherishing them as much as Tommy did.
Tubbo’s voice spoke up through the comfortable silence. His voice was quiet, almost as if he was telling a secret, Tommy had to lean in to hear.
“You know,” he began, “It’s almost like we’ve been friends forever, even though I just met you today.”
Tommy’s content thoughts came screeching to a halt. This was definitely new, no one had ever said words like that to him before. He knew he should choose his next words carefully, but in a moment of raw emotion he decided to come clean.
“We have,” Tommy said, his mind speaking without his permission. He, however, made the choice to continue. “I’ve known you for a while now, and we have nights like these often.”
And so Tommy spoke, he told them about everything. He spoke about the cherished moments he had with his best friends, still holding those memories close to his heart. He spoke of the little secrets that Tubbo had told him, about how he steals Ranboo’s special pudding from the fridge and doesn’t take the blame. He spoke about the one time Ranboo beat him at monopoly, and instead of taking it like a big man, he kept trying to play despite having no money left, insisting that he hasn’t lost yet. He revealed that every morning when he is woken up by their stupid inedible welcome gift, and even if he acts like he hates it, he thinks the meal is the most precious thing in his life. It makes him feel less forgotten, almost like a warm reminder that he is still there, alive and cared for. He spoke about how he wishes more than anything for them to remember him, for these moments to feel real. For them to be no longer lost to everyone but himself.
“And sometimes,” he said in a moment of vulnerability, “I don’t think I'm worth being remembered. And moments like these are what scare me the most, because then I’ll know I'm close to giving up.”
He was met with silence. Perhaps he said too much, what if they don’t believe him. What if his best friends, who didn’t even know how much they meant to him, try to label him as insane? What if he is insane?
Tommy didn’t even notice the tears fall before a warm hand came to wipe them off his face. He was embraced by his best friends as he drifted to sleep, the heat long forgotten in his exhaustion.
Miraculously, he woke up before the two boys, and with as much energy as he could muster, slipped out of the room without a sound.
He woke up to familiar knocking at his door a few hours later.
Tommy is snapped out of his thoughts as the red blob he saw earlier sticking their face out of the booth.
“Tommy!” Wilbur called, and Tommy couldn’t hide the smile that came to his face. Once again ignoring Niki, he rushes over to the booth and sits down next to Wilbur, who is sporting his worn red beanie.
Hearing Wilbur call his name was one of the best moments of his life.
“Hey, Wilbur. Do you remember me? We met at the train station a few days ago, and I called you a massive prick.” Tommy was sure the man remembered him after calling his name, but he had to ask, just to make sure.
“Do you really think I'm that old? I don’t have the memory of a goldfish you know, that would be my dad.” Today could not get any better, this was it. This was the best day of Tommy’s life. Wilbur continued, “Seriously though, I guess a child like you would assume everyone older than you had dementia.”
“Sorry Wil,” Tommy was sure his smile might be weirding Wilbur out, but he didn’t care. “I guess it's the wrinkles that made me think you wouldn't remember.”
Wilbur gasps and touches his face, upon finding nothing he gives Tommy a death glare and shakes his head. It looks like it's meant to be intimidating, but Tommy can tell its teasing. He could get used to this.
“You really are a gremlin, thinking you are all that,” Wilbur continues, “Are you here early again to get Niki’s pastries? They are the best in the morning, I can’t imagine a better place to be during this time of day.”
“Yeah, I come here every morning for them. Not much else to do when you’re legally a child.” That part is somewhat true, even if Tommy could get a job he wouldn’t be able to keep it. It might be hard to explain that situation to your boss who doesn't even know you exist.
“Every morning you say?” Wilbur questions, “Niki didn’t seem to recognize you when you came in.”
Scratch that, today was not the best day ever. Now Tommy is stuck with a smartass being the only person to remember his existence.
“Well,” Tommy struggles to come up with a lie. “I am normally real quiet, slip in and slip out. I’m like a ghost, bitch. Or a ninja or something cool.”
“Well for a ghost you were mighty loud this morning when you walked in,” Wilbur did not buy his lie at all, but drops the subject nonetheless. “Okay, fine, keep your secrets. Say, did you hear about the robbery over on 5th street yesterday? I heard the commotion all the way from 2nd.”
And so their conversation continued like that, with Wilbur changing the subject with ease and Tommy left to pick up the pieces. Soon enough, after a few hours of banter back and forth between the two, the morning had passed. Tommy eventually found Wilbur’s company to be less annoying, and was genuinely interested by all the man had to say. Talking to Wilbur came easily to Tommy, and he felt like their conversations could never go dull. Good times must always come to an end though, and by late afternoon Wilbur had to take his leave.
“Wait!” Tommy called after they had already said their goodbyes. He looks up at Wilbur almost pleading. Wilbur seemed surprised by his sudden outburst. “I’ll see you again soon, right?”
Wilbur smiled back and said, “I come around in the mornings around twice a week when I don’t work. I’ll see you then.”
Tommy thought those words were better than when Wilbur said his name.