Chapter Text
Silence, quite an odd thing isn’t it?
Wilbur used to find it quite comforting, peaceful even, but even the nicest things can get old over time. The silence now felt taunting, for Wilbur no longer had anyone with him to fill it, no one to laugh or talk with, no one to smile with, no one to share his time with. He had no one, and honestly, he only had himself to blame for that.
He was like the intricate glass sculptures you’d see at museums, beautiful, artistic, displayed proudly for everyone to see, but the second the glass was fractured, everyone would be ushered away, in fear that they’d only serve to break the glass more.
Wilbur thought he’d be fine on his own, he didn’t need them anyways, but under the crushing loneliness of the silence filling his house, his glass heart only seemed to crack more.
He glanced at the emptied pill bottle sitting on his counter, a taunting reminder of what had happened only a few nights before. He shook his head, taking in a breath as he tried to clear the fuzzy memories from his mind, although, said memories seemed to have other plans, as they simply continued replaying, never planning to give Wilbur a break.
He sat on the rooftop, silent tears escaping him as looked lazily at the stars. Humming, he dumped the pills- a far larger amount than he should be taking- into his hand. He knew what he was doing, he knew he shouldn’t be taking this many, but he just couldn’t do it anymore.
He couldn’t live with himself after what happened.
So he dumped the pills in his mouth, swallowing harshly, a defeated expression overtaking his face as he accepted that there was nothing left for him here. At this point, he was just a hollow shell of what Wilbur is supposed to be, because really, who even he is if he’s without them?
The rest of that night was a blur, but he knew that at some point Techno- who was well aware that today was the 1 year anniversary of the incident- had come here to check on him, knowing he probably wouldn’t be doing too well on that day of all days. Techno hadn’t expected just how bad Wilbur had been doing, when he found him half-dead on the roof.
He doesn’t even remember being rushed to the hospital, so you could imagine Wilbur's confusion when he woke up at all, yet alone to the painfully bright walls of a hospital room.
He should be glad, grateful that he survived, but the aching regret of survival pounding in his chest made it difficult to. He was not okay, the dirty hospital bracelet sitting discarded on his counter only served to prove that, but Wilbur hadn’t accepted any help since that fateful day a year ago, and if he was anything, he was stubborn.
So yeah, fuck therapy, Wilbur will handle this by himself.
Alone.
Fuck, he needs a distraction from this lonely shit.
oOo
When he said distractions, Wilbur didn’t necessarily mean a part time job at a music store, but it was his only idea so far, and he’d take what he could get. So Wilbur walked quietly into the shop, having called a few weeks prior to request an interview, and walked up to the counter.
Wilbur didn’t really want a job, but he didn’t have anyone left he could spend his time with, so it was either this or spend another day staring at his ceiling, and the former definitely sounded more appealing. So here he was, hesitantly ringing the little bell on the counter upon noticing the lack of employees working the counter.
Almost immediately, someone stepped from the back room, plastering a smile that seemed a bit too strained on their face as they turned to face Wilbur. “Hello sir, what can I help you with?” They said, unable to hide the boredom leaking through their tone.
Wilbur paused, noticing the name tag they wore. “Hello, uhm, Tommy, I’m here to see Puffy, I have a job interview scheduled with her. Tommy simply blinked, his eyes narrowing. “Bullshit, Puffy’s not hiring, we don’t need any more people working here.” The blonde said. “Well, she’s an old friend of my father’s, she told me she’d be happy to make an exception.” He chuckled weakly, awkwardly scratching at his neck.
He’d refrained from mentioning that the real reason Puffy had allowed him to work here was because she knew what had happened a year ago, he was here because of pity.
But he’d never admit that, so Wilbur kept quiet, shoulders relaxing in relief as Tommy reluctantly strided off to find Puffy.
He had a feeling his to-be coworker didn’t like him all that much.