Chapter Text
Wilbur loves his family. He loves them a lot and they love him back. He loves a lot of things. For example, he loves music oh so much. He loves looking at sheet music, he loves it when he plays the right notes, he loves it when he gets perfect pitch, he loves it when he doesn’t make a mistake. But, as human beings, there are things that we hate. And that is what Wilbur specializes in.
Wilbur hates everything about him.
He hates how his hair is messy and he can never fix it. He hates how his stomach folds into itself whenever he sits down. He hates how he sings. He hates how he talks. He hates how his brain works. He hates that he hates himself. He hates himself. He hates himself more than anything.
⩹⪤⩺
“Wilbur?” Tommy knocked on Wilbur’s door that led to his room.
All three children, Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy had their own rooms. They had a single father named Phil. Wilbur was sixteen, Techno was also sixteen, and he was older than Wilbur by two months, and Tommy was fourteen years old.
“Come in!” Wilbur said as he cursed mentally, trying to put on a baggy shirt as hastily as humanly possible. He was staring at his body, he didn’t see curves, and if there were any, then that meant that he needed to lose more weight.
“Wilbur?” Tommy asked, seeing the mess in Wilbur’s room.
“Yeah?” Wilbur said, trying to hide the dirty clothes with his “fat” body. He gulped, hating how dirty the room was. He needed to clean it, so he did. Wilbur crouched down and started to put the clothes and items into their dressers and cabinets.
Tommy blinked for a couple of seconds, staring at Wilbur fixing up his room.
“Well, dad said that lunch is ready. Everyone has to go downstairs, so yeah… I’ll just leave you to it, make sure to come down in five minutes. I have to get Techno, so, yeah,” Tommy said before closing the door and rushing to Techno’s room. He was probably reading or learning some new thing or virtual farming since they didn’t have enough money to make a potato farm.
“Alright, I’ll be there,” Wilbur lied. He couldn’t eat. He was obese. He didn’t deserve to eat. Wilbur tried to think of a way to get away from eating lunch with his family, but he couldn’t. He’d already used some of them, so he decided to just eat a tiny bit and lose that weight by not eating the next day. That’s a clever idea, right? Yes, it is.
⩹⪤⩺
“WILBUR!! TIME TO EAT, MATE!!” Phil yelled. His oldest and youngest son were at the table, waiting patiently for the middle child to come down and eat along with them.
Wilbur had forgotten. It had been fifteen minutes. Tommy said to go downstairs ten minutes ago. Oh, no. Wilbur’s going to get scolded, and he’ll just feel worse than he already is. Wilbur rushed out of his room, closing the door shut, he ran down the stairs and he slid to the dining table. Phil looked at Wilbur as Tommy and Techno were already eating.
The sight of food made Wilbur want to hurl and just throw up his intestines. Wilbur gathered up his courage to sit down and he placed his hands in his lap. He looked at his hands as he sat across from his father.
“Wilbur, why are you late? I thought Tommy told you to come down here ten minutes ago,” Phil said.
“I- I’m sorry, father,” Wilbur said, feeling eyes locking onto his body. He thought about what they were thinking. Were they thinking that he was fat? Oh Prime, Wilbur just wanted to sink into his chair, or a black hole suck him up and all his worries away.
Phil sighed before saying, “It’s alright, Wil. No need to be sorry about it. Now, come on, eat. You’ve been looking awfully thin nowadays, mate.”
Wilbur’s eyes got slightly larger when he heard the last sentence. Did Phil notice that Wilbur had stopped eating? Was Phil worried about Wilbur, or was he forcing him to eat? Wilbur really didn’t want to eat, but it would make him look more vulnerable.
I have to eat. Wilbur thought. For dad.
⩹⪤⩺
The rest of the lunch wasn’t as quiet as you thought it would be. Tommy soon started to talk about Tubbo and Ranboo, and how all three of them started to play games on the internet. It was something called Minecraft and the purpose of the game was to survive and beat some dragon. Phil didn’t understand a bit of what Tommy said, but he acted as if he were interested in the topic.
Soon after Tommy had finished, Techno started to talk. He talked about how he was learning how potatoes grow and begged Phil for some potato seeds, even if it was just one. But Phil, being in father mode, said no. Techno didn’t argue as arguing was very bad in this house.
When Techno had finished his potato TED Talk, everyone looked at Wilbur, making him anxious. They wanted to know if he had any stories to tell. Wilbur never likes it when all of the attention suddenly gets attracted to him all of a sudden.
Wilbur just blankly stared at his clean plate. Nothing was on it except for the fear of eating. Techno cleared his throat, grabbing Wilbur’s attention. Wilbur looked at his surroundings, everyone was looking at him. He bit the insides of his cheek. His right foot went up and down fast and faster. He looked at his hands and waited for someone to make a sound.
“Well… Wilbur, do you have any stories to tell us? Your… family?” Techno emphasized the last word. Family.
Wilbur pouted that only the elephant could see, and he gulped as a silent ray of sun was shown through the transparent glass window. Wilbur looked at where it was pointed to. The ray of sunshine was slowly moving towards him, which made him slightly happy, but that glimpse of light soon started to move away from him and onto a new host.
Tommy.
Wilbur’s mouth slightly opened as he tilted his head a tad. He was jealous. Very jealous.
He loved how the light blended in with Tommy’s bright and healthy skin. He hated how if the sun shined on him, it would just show his imperfections and faults. He loved how Tommy’s hair fluffed up, and he loved how the glow of the sun complemented Tommy’s face. He despised how pale his skin would look under the sun. He loves how Tommy’s jawline was sharper than a sword slicing his bowels up. He most definitely hated how he was not as nearly as pretty and handsome as his brothers.
He loved how healthy they were. He hated how he was not healthy. He wanted to change, truly, but he just never did. He found reasons why in times he didn’t, but he would soon lose them in a matter of seconds from a tornado of thoughts and clouded his brain more than a dust storm.
“Wilbur?” Techno called Wilbur’s name again.
Wilbur looked up at Techno instead of Tommy. Tommy had a worried face, and Phil… oh dear Prime. Phil knew something was wrong with Wilbur, but he just didn’t know how to “fix” him. But he is the middle child, that’s what normally happens, am I not right?
“Y- yeah?” Wilbur asks.
“You were staring at me for an awfully long time, are you okay?” Tommy says.
“Y- yeah, I’m fine. No need to worry about me, guys. I was just thinking…” Wilbur says, trying to calm everyone down, – he was thinking that they were mad at him – even though it was obvious that they weren’t mad, just worried.
“Alright, mate. If you say so,” Phil says, as he does a very poor job at hiding his fear for Wilbur verbally. Physically, he hid it very well, but verbally? Not the worst, but it's certainly not the best.
“Well, I guess it’s time to start cleaning up. Tommy, please unload the dishes, and I’ll load it, okay?” Techno asks, making sure to leave Wilbur alone.
He knew that Wilbur was going through a tough time, so he made sure to make him feel comfortable. After lunch, I’ll talk to Wilbur. Techno thought to himself as he put the dishes in the sink. He watched Wilbur get up from his seat as quickly as possible, his seat was now unattended and left open for the dust to creep up and eat at the lonely table.
I’m definitely talking to Wilbur after lunch…