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Look, Tommy wasn’t a nervous kid. He goes by in his daily life just fine, anxiety-free. Sure, there are moments where he gets nervous, but most of the time, he’s fine.
This, however, was one of those moments.
He couldn’t be more excited and anxious at the same time. He was going to meet his online friend of several years! They’re like family at this point. It feels like they’ve known each other for decades. Lifetimes, maybe. Yet, they haven’t seen each other in person at all. Not even once. And why is that? Because there is a lot of kilometres between them. Luckily, they both are European.
Wilbur comes from the United Kingdom, the land of colonialism, tea, bad food, and Brexit. It’s a lovely country, really – Tommy has never gone there, but he wants to. He’s seen several photos, movies, series, which took place in London. And Wilbur lives in London! Tommy was a bit jealous, actually; imagine living in one of the most known cities in the world! The architecture! The history! The flag! It has such an original concept – combining flags of the 4 places that make the United Kingdom into one Union Jack. Sucks that Wales doesn’t exist, according to the flag.
Tommy, on the other hand, comes from the Czech Republic. The western Slavs, the eastern Germans, the heart of Europe. Like Wilbur, Tommy also lived in the capital city, Prague. Nothing much to say about it, really. It’s a small country, an even smaller city, with an even smaller Central Train Station, and the smallest person.
And that smallest person was Tommy. Nervous, impatient, happy. All of these three emotions mixed within him and each second, a different one was winning. Tommy looked at a clock. This clock was often used as a meeting spot, mainly because it’s so big.
10:27.
When was Wilbur supposed to arrive? 10:21? He’s late, then. Tommy was growing more anxious by the second. The plan was easy to understand – Wilbur will come at 10:21, sleep over at Tommy’s, and then leave at 7:38. It’s early, but Wilbur will be in London around ten in the evening. He will recharge the next day, maybe stream for a bit, and the day after that, he is going to hang out with Phil. However, waiting and being late was not in the plan. They didn’t agree to this, he was supposed to come at 10:21, he’s late, he’s six minutes late, he’s hurt, he’s dying-
No, shut up.
Wil’s not made out of sugar.
Tommy had a hoodie, but it was tied around his waist. Why? Because Prague can get very hot, and the sweat from anxiety made Tommy feel even hotter. And this time, not in the good way. He fiddled with the zipper of the hoodie and took deep breaths. It’s alright. He has to keep in mind that Wilbur is now in a foreign country, in a big Central Station. Maybe he’s just gotten lost. It’s bad, but not that dramatic as death. Wilbur certainly wasn’t dying. He can’t die before tasting the glorious severely overpriced trdelník.
Tommy calmed down completely, and now was only very mildly nervous. It was fine! Simply vibe. He remembered he has been listening to music this whole time and just didn’t notice. Of course he knew about it – he was the one who put on the music – but he tuned it out, because he was too busy trying to not have a panic attack.
The song that was playing now was familiar to him. Once he realized it was ‘Jump in the Cadillac’ by Bruno Mars, he groaned in annoyance, stopped the song, and took off his headphones. He hid them in his backpack and decided to exist in silence. Well, it’s not like it could be complete silence; Prague’s Central Station was full of people, and all of them were talking, going somewhere, rolling their suitcases on their wheels. Tommy was used to the noise, he’s been here a lot of times, picking up a friend from a faraway city. Usually, he was picking up Tubbo, who lives in Brno. Tommy didn’t believe in B*no. It wasn’t even a city. They call Brno a metropolis, yet they don’t even have a metro. Tommy scoffed, glad that his hatred for the populated intersection distracted him from the fact that it was now 10:32 and Wilbur was oh-so very late.
But then, Tommy saw a flash of brown messy hair on a tall person. He lit up, double-checked that the person was indeed Wilbur, and waved his hand furiously. He was making a bit of a scene, but he didn’t care. Wilbur was there! Not dead! Wilbur looked over at the teenager, Tommy heard rapidly approaching footsteps of a running man and was suddenly enveloped in a tight hug. “Tommy!” It was Wilbur; Tommy recognized the voice instantly. He almost couldn’t believe it and hugged back even tighter. “Hey, big man. You’re eleven minutes late.”
Wilbur let him go and started swearing under his breath. “I already hate this ‘city’, I got lost like… twice. Is this even a city? It’s so small! You’re sure this isn’t a village, right? You call this your capital?”
Tommy laughed and ignored the insult. For now. “Welcome to Prague, the city which everyone wants to leave but never does.” He started to walk towards the exit, not even looking at Wilbur’s suitcase. Wilbur brought it, Wilbur has to take care of it and make sure he doesn’t lose it.
After only a few steps, Wilbur stopped walking and stared in front of him. “What the fuck, you have pigeons in your Central Station?” He noticed that Tommy didn’t stop, and quickly caught up.
“Huh?” Tommy processed the words. “Oh, yeah. They’re everywhere. Say hi to Honza.” He waved to one of the pigeons. No bird paid attention to him; they all were trying to eat some food crumbs that wanderers might have left behind.
Now it was silent again. They met up, yes, but what now? Tommy was trying to remember all the fun facts he knows, but he couldn’t speak right now. Both of them felt awkward.
As they left the main building, they walked into a park surrounding the Central Station. Tommy remembered a fun fact and gasped softly, excited and very glad to fill the silence. “This park is nicknamed the Sherwood Forest, because people pickpocket here.” He had a bit of an accent when he said ‘park’. Wilbur reminded himself of where he keeps his wallet and kept a close eye on it the whole walk through the park. “So, here are the trams,” gestured Tommy. “I thought that we could first get your luggage to my house, chill a bit after your long trip, then go out and do shit?” Wilbur agreed to that.
“By the way, why did you take the longer route?” Tommy asked.
“I could’ve gone by one bus, but I would arrive at six in the morning. I… didn’t want to make you wake up so early for me.”
Tommy cooed. “Awh, Wilbur! Didn’t know you cared about my sleep schedule!”
“I don’t. I’m still gonna keep you up at night playing Minecraft. Don’t you have a bedtime anyway, child?”
“Oh listen, you prick, you beans on toast-eating man-”
“Hey, Beans on Toast is a pretty good band!” Wilbur laughed.
“Your country has such bland food, shame on you, you Brit!”
“Doesn’t your family laugh at you for liking bland food?”
“Yeah, but that’s because I’m a- that’s different.” Tommy’s face got serious.
Wilbur immediately dropped the annoying act and got into big brother mode. “What? Tommy, you’re what?” He grabbed Tommy by his shoulders and made him look at Wil. Worry was written all over Wil’s face. Tommy just saw an opportunity.
“I’m an idiot sandwich.” Tommy smiled playfully. Wilbur sighed, let Tommy go, walked a few steps away from Tommy and stomped on the ground in annoyance. “Oh, come on!”
“Come on deez nuts!” Tommy started laughing. “Now let’s catch this tram, this one goes to my house.”
And so they started running. They shouldn’t have been walking so slow.
Wilbur let Tommy know that if anything was wrong, he could tell Wil. No pressure though. Tommy assured him that everything is alright, and that it’s just an inside joke in his family. Then they started bickering again, and were bickering all the way to Tommy’s house. They provided a great show for everyone in the tram. Tommy forgot to mention one thing, though. His house wasn’t a house. Tommy lived in a block of flats.
When they arrived to Tommy’s flat, Wilbur looked confused. “I thought you said ‘house’.”
“I did!” Tommy confirmed.
“So why is this a flat?”
“Because they built it that way- oh, right. It’s easier to say ‘Let’s go to my house!’ than ‘Let’s go to my flat!’. ‘Flat’ isn’t a well-used word in my vocabulary. Plus, houses are super expensive. Just this,” Tommy walked into the living room, “costs around four million CZK now. We’re lucky my parents bought it when it cost only around 100 000 CZK.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense,” Wilbur started, but Tommy accidentally cut him off. “Take off your shoes!”
After chilling inside, eating svíčková – a traditional Czech food, you have to try it – for lunch, and watching a few episodes of Pat a Mat, a classic and well-loved Czechoslovak cartoon about two men who fuck everything up, the duo headed out to the streets. It could’ve been around two o’clock now – Prague was heating up. Plus, it was summer. The tourists are sure to die. Tommy was used to the heat, but Wilbur kept complaining. After a while, Tommy couldn’t handle the complains anymore and had to put a stop to them. He lightly punched Wil in the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, get used to it. Cope, even. I bet that by this time you usually eat your cookies with tea that has milk in it.” Wilbur wheezed and forgot about the heat for a second. What Tommy said was a true fact, but Wilbur knew he meant it as an insult. And he couldn’t leave an insult without a comeback. “Well, sorry if I don’t live in a small-arse country that no one knows about.”
Tommy’s smile faltered a bit. “It’s average,” he said stubbornly.
“Tommy, seriously?” Wilbur laughed. “That sounds like something a ‘nice guy’ that’s overcompensating for something would say!”
“I am not overcompensating for anything! My country is not small, unlike your colonist country. You got so many spices from the colonies and used none of them.” And they started bickering again.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Asked Wil when they finally stopped.
“Vítkov. You’re going to see one of the biggest chads ever, Jan Žižka. But before that, I’m going to need you to buy some spicy water.” Vítkov was a place located in Prague 3 – Žižkov with a statue of Jan Žižka from Trocnov and Kalich on a horse, one of the most well-known Hussites. He took part in the First Prague defenestration, fought many battles and won may battles. Vítkov was on a hill, there was a neogothic church and a Gymnasium nearby. You could see a lot of Prague from there.
Vítkov was a favourite place for tourists to visit. Tommy’s teacher took the whole class there once, it was summer and it was very hot; Tommy still remembers the pain, the stairs, and the pain of the stairs. He promised himself that he would never force himself to go there again. But alas, he will. For Wilbur. That was the price of being proud of your country’s sights and wanting to show them off to your friends.
“Spicy water?” Wil questioned.
“Alcohol.” Tommy remembered a song about alcohol and made a mental note to himself to show (and translate) the song to Wil if he got the chance to.
“Alcohol?! Tommy, you’re 16, you can’t drink that.”
A few teens on the street that heard Wilbur and understood English started chuckling to themselves. A lot of teens knew English, actually most of them did. Children are taught English from around third grade of Elementary school.
Tommy looked very amused. He grabbed Wil by the shoulder. “Oh, Wil. You have so much to learn. Now come on, that one Vietnamec is right behind the corner.”
“I think you mean ‘around’…”
Wil and Tommy entered the shop run by a Vietnamese man. Like many Vietnamese shops in Prague, this one was small and red. You could find nearly anything there – plushies, toilet paper, food, drinks, toys for pets, toys for humans… alcohol. The perks of knowing the owner were good – he would sell you alcohol if you paid a little extra money, even if you were underage. That’s what most shops like that do.
“Well then, pick something!”
Wilbur looked at the bottles in a foreign language. He knows some letters, he knows how to read them, but there a few that he has no idea what they mean. They’re all in different orders than he’s familiar with anyway, he wouldn’t get far. He has no idea what any of it is. Then he saw three letters he’s sure he knows the meaning of, ‘RUM’. Guess the word is the same in Czech and in English. Wilbur picked up the rum bottle, he couldn’t understand the rest. Tommy looked at his choice and made a disapproving sound.
“Fuj! Božkov! No, denied, that’s disgusting.” Tommy put the bottle back. “Božkov is good only for baking or something, I don’t know, my mum puts some in Christmas gingerbread. I have one friend that puts in štrúdl, can you believe that?”
“I have no idea what that is, so I can.” Wilbur picked out another bottle. He chose one with a pretty writing. It was in a similar font as ‘Disney’ is, except this one was more readable. It could’ve been, what, Dilsner Vrquell?
“Pilsner Urquell? Eeeh…” Tommy thought for a few seconds. “Yeah, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I’m more of a Radegast type of guy myself, but sure.” Tommy looked at Wilbur’s face and realized that Wilbur is completely lost. “Oh! Both of those are beers, by the way. I’ll tell you about Radegast later.”
“We should get some food with that, I don’t want to get wasted in a foreign city with a teenager.”
“Fair enough, let’s get some baked shit!”
They walked over to the baked section. Tommy picked out some weird-looking rolls and said they’re called rohlíky. He also assured Wil that they’re the best pastries he will ever eat. He will come back to Czechia just to get more of them – they’re that good! Second only to the glorious Czech bread, that is. Tommy bought four of the so-called rohlíky.
They bought the food and drink. Tommy gave Wilbur the money, Wilbur paid, they left and hopped on a tram that would get them to Vítkov. The nearest tram station Tommy knows is Lipanská, so they went to a tram with the number 9 on it. Tommy rambled about Radegast the whole way there. “So, like, Radegast is a brand of beer, yes, but it also a name of an old Slavic god. Oh my god, he was such a chad, you don’t even know. He’s got this head that looks like a lion’s face, he’s a bull head or something, it could be a weird cow or a dragon, I don’t know. He’s shirtless and wears a skirt, he’s so based. Actually, I have a picture! I went there with my family last summer – fun fact, he’s on a hill called Rožnov, but there’s a statue of Radegast. That kind of confused me, but it’s alright.” Tommy got out his phone and showed Wil the photo. “He’s basically the god of sun, crops, and abundance, or some shit…”
They got out of the tram. Tommy lead the way. They went downhill and then uphill, which Tommy hated so much. Why go down, if you’re going to go back up anyways? He guesses it’s practical for building castles and such – but it’s so annoying for the tourists! Why couldn’t 17th century kings think about the tourists in 21st century?! Just think 4 centuries ahead, it’s not a big deal! – that thought made Tommy think about how people right now should think about the future. But it’s kind of impossible, isn’t it? Who knows what’s going to happen four centuries ahead?
That made him less angry at the long-dead kings.
Tommy was going to zone out and/or disassociate while going uphill, but then he remembered he had a guest. He has to entertaining, so that Wilbur comes back to see Tommy again.
“By the way, that trip to the store got me thinking, how much money did you bring? I don’t want to pay for everything, you know.” Tommy said, the end of the second sentence had a lighter tone to it. Not fully joking, but not fully serious. A perfect balance.
Wilbur thought for a second and stopped. Tommy only urged him forward by pushing his back forward a bit. Wil got the message and started walking again. “Around 20 Euros, I think? Don’t worry, I left most of it at your ‘house’.” He made sure Tommy knew about the light joke by making air quotes with his fingers when he said ‘house’.
Tommy looked at him in disbelief, but didn’t stop. “You’re… you’re joking, right?” A worried chuckle.
“Should I have brought more?”
“Wil, we’re- we’re not in the eurozone, we don’t use euros- Wil,“ Tommy was so taken aback, he forgot how to speak normally. “We use Koruny české, Czech crowns, CZK, I even told you in the shop,” Tommy started fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie that was around his waist.
The all-known and widely recognized ‘oh shit’ look crossed Wilbur’s face. Oh, shit indeed.
Tommy took a deep breath. “We have exchange points, you’re lucky this is the capital.” He scoffed. In reality, this wasn’t a really bad situation. Wilbur has a little less than 500 CZK, he just has to exchange that. Tommy has some money, they will survive. Luckily, the tickets for public transport are quite cheap. Tommy paid for Wilbur’s too, but not for his own. Since he lives in Prague, his parents bought him a subscription. As long as he pays for that and carries it with him everywhere, he doesn’t have to worry about tickets.
But, does Wilbur really have to exchange it? It’s half past three now, they’ll be home by 9 o’clock maximum, then Wil doesn’t have to buy anything. His 24-hour ticket will still be valid by seven A.M., and that’s the only thing they have to worry about. “Actually, never mind, you don’t have to exchange that. It’s fine,” Tommy corrected himself. “Let’s just survive the stairs.”
Once they were at the top of the hill, both of them were glad that it was over. Tommy lead Wilbur to the statue of Jan Žižka on a horse, which was in the middle of an ugly, white, blocky, oval-shaped ground. Man-made, clearly. The statue was elevated by a white block. Behind it was, once again, a white blocky building. It had a restaurant or something, Tommy doesn’t know, he never entered the building. He doesn’t plan to, anyway.
“So, what does this guy do?” Asked Wilbur. Tommy was preparing himself to info-dump everything he knows about Jan Žižka on Wil, but then he decided to be merciful. He has already info-dumped Wilbur enough, like about Radegast or in the past about Animal Crossing. “He was one of the Hussites, he lead a rebellion. He was so cool, he has a missing eye! Truly a king. I mean, not- not an actual king, just- you know,” Tommy took a deep breath, “anyways. That’s the guy, there you can see most of Prague, now let’s get drunk!”
Tommy walked over to the ledge of the white ground, it of course had something akin to railings. He sat down, opened his backpack and got out the food and the bottle they had previously bought. Wilbur followed and copied Tommy, but instead of getting stuff out of his non-existent backpack, he just stared at Prague. It was a small city, but from that high, it looked way bigger. Tommy got out his phone and earphones, and offered one to Wilbur. Wilbur took it, fished out his Swiss knife out of his pants’ pocket, grabbed the beer bottle and opened it.
Tommy opened his Spotify app and started playing some music.
“I hope you realize I’m not going to let you drink this,” warned Wil and took a swig. His face scrunched up a bit due to him not being used to this taste and brand of beer.
“Well, what’s the fun in that?” Said Tommy, jokingly offended. He tried to snag the bottle from Wil, but Wil was faster and held out his hand away from Tommy. He couldn’t go away physically, because they were sharing earphones and he didn’t want to tear one out of his ear. Wilbur was comically tall, meaning he had comically long arms, so Tommy’s teenager arms couldn’t even compare, let alone reach the bottle. Tommy whined in fake annoyance, but let it go. He brought his hands back in front of himself and began eating a rohlík. Wilbur also dropped the act, took another swig, and tried to put the bottle’s cap back on. He also grabbed a rohlík. He was still holding the bottle, he didn’t trust Tommy to not grab it the second it’s out of Wilbur’s hand. Warm beer is not the best, but it’ll do.
“It sucks that it’s not sunset,” noted Tommy with a calm voice.
Wilbur looked at Prague’s horizon once again, he softened too. “Yeah.”
I think this time I’m dying
I’m not melo-
Wilbur recognized the song playing from Tommy’s phone instantly. He quickly scrambled to skip it and sighed once an another song started playing. He cursed at himself for not listening to the music. If he would’ve just listened, he wouldn’t have to make such a scene from skipping it! Wil looked at Tommy for a reaction, a sign that he was annoyed or angry or something, but Tommy just shrugged.
“Figures. Sorry king, I have it my playlist.”
Wilbur felt a pang in his heart. He wrote the song a long time ago, back when he was doing terrible mentally, but he’s glad that people still like his old work, and that it maybe helps them cope. He wasn’t sure if the pang he felt was heart-warming or sad; he chose to not care.
Surprisingly, no one was at Vítkov (well, except for Tommy and Wilbur). Tommy was finishing up his pastry, Wilbur was dipping his share of rohlíky in the beer – as far as the bottle would allow. Tommy didn’t comment on that. Instead, he noticed that no one was around. He opened his phone and scrolled through his songs. Looks like he didn’t find the one he wanted, so he paused the one playing, went on Youtube, and looked it up. “Okay, you’re not going to understand this, but just listen, it’s peak Czech culture,” he pressed play.
Já mám bol a ten bol mě bolí, [I have an ache and that ache hurts me,]
alkohol, ten všechny rány zhojí. [alcohol, it heals all wounds.]
Kdybych já měl alkohol, ožral bych se až na mol. [If I'd have alcohol, I'd get absolutely wasted!]
Wilbur didn’t understand. How could he? He’s just some British crime boy. He did understand one word, though – ‘alcohol’. That was the only word he needed to know to understand what the song was about. Despite not knowing the words and not understand them, Wilbur was vibing. Tommy was too, he was even mouthing the words. Wilbur tried to read his lips, but he failed at that too. He stopped trying to understand and just enjoyed the moment. When the song ended, Tommy put on songs from his Spotify playlist again. Ad-free, Tommy was thriving with Spotify Premium.
After they ate all the rohlíky and finished vibing to Tommy’s playlist – which was all over the place genre-wise, they left Vítkov. Tommy felt a bit proud of himself, and because he negotiated with Wilbur, he managed to get a taste of Radegast. It was bitter and utterly disgusting, but Tommy couldn’t let Wil know he thought that! (Spoiler alert: he knew.) It could’ve been around five in the evening now, and Tommy wanted Wilbur to try one more thing. He wanted Wil to try eating a trdelník (Chimney cake). A Chimney cake is a traditional Hungarian sweet roll-like pastry, often severely overpriced in Prague. 100 Czech Crowns for one with Nutella and 80 Crowns for one with cinnamon? Outrageous! Tommy’s mum remembers a time where every chimney cake cost only 40 Crowns!
Tommy is very thankful for Wilbur’s idea to buy some food with the beer, because Wilbur was now only very tipsy. No-one paid attention to a semi-drunk British guy on the streets; drunkards are common in Czechia, after all. They hopped on tram 9 again, but this time, Tommy was silent. Consumers of alcohol intimidated Tommy a bit, truth to be told; he kind of regretted making Wil buy some. But alas, he must reap what he sow.
Getting off on Václavské náměstí (Wenceslas' Square), Tommy wasn’t sure if he will find any kiosks that have what he’s looking for here. They both walked for a bit, Tommy showed Wilbur another statue of a man on a horse – this time, it was St. Václav (Wenceslas), who ruled the Czech lands until his brother Boleslav brutally killed him. St. Wenceslas is a patron of Czechia.
Both of them were thankful that it wasn’t noon at the moment. Wenceslas’ Square is long, so it would be painful to walk there in hot temperatures. After walking around a bit, trying to find a kiosk, Wilbur tapped Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy turned to look at Wil. “What’s that? It looks good.” Wilbur pointed at a small stand with a weird-looking roll in the front. Tommy quickly scanned the letters on the stand and immediately started fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie again.
“That’s it, Wil! You found trdelník!”
“I did?” Wilbur asked, but Tommy was already going over to the stand. Wilbur caught up – again –, and Tommy was reading the selection. In Czech. Of course. Wil was lucky that most texts in Prague were also in English, but he couldn’t hope for that with small kiosks like this one.
“Alright, which one do you want? They have: cinnamon, vanilla, Nutella, plain.”
Wil has never eaten this. He has no idea. “Are you going to get one? Get me the same as yours.”
Tommy thought about it. “I wasn’t going to, but sure!” He turned to the man in the stand, ordered and paid. When they got their Chimney cakes, they started walking back to the trams. “I got us vanilla trdelníky.” Tommy noticed that Wilbur was out for any oncoming trams, waiting for the right one. “No, no, big man! We’re going to take the metro, I want you experience it at least once. And I have some fun facts about it that you need to hear or else I will explode.”
They walked down the stairs and waited on the underground platform. Můstek (Bridge), the station below Wenceslas’ Square, was an interchange station. Two lines were crossing each other here – A and B. While Tommy and Wilbur were waiting for line A, they were eating their Chimney cakes. “It’s too sugary,” complained Wil.
“Jo, to trdelníky jsou.” (Yeah, Chimney cakes are like that.) Tommy answered on autopilot. He still has some trouble switching between two languages – everything around him is in Czech, but he has to talk in English. Weird, isn’t it?
“Sorry?”
“What for?“ Tommy’s face showed utter confusion.
Wilbur chuckled. “No, I meant that like ‘Pardon?’. You said that in Czech, I can’t speak Czech…”
Tommy realized his mistake. “Oh! Sorry! I said ‘Yeah, they are.’” Wilbur just ruffled Tommy’s hair and assured him that it’s fine.
The underground train arrived and they were both only done with three quarters of their Chimney cakes. They shouldn’t get on, but Tommy didn’t care and Wilbur just followed him, because he knows Prague more than Wil does; so they got on. They sat down on two empty seats next to each other, Wilbur was trying to finish his pastry, Tommy was collecting all his fun facts and knowledge he had to share. Once he finished gathering it all, he turned to Wil. He had to yell, because the underground was loud. Tommy’s ears were hurting, but he liked metros, so it was absolutely worth it.
“Fun fact! Prague’s metro is modelled after the Moscow metro. It was founded in 1974, we were still Czechoslovakia an under the influence of USSR.” Wilbur was still eating, but he was paying all of his attention to Tommy and his monologue. Tommy made sure Wil is still interested and continued. “People were afraid of nuclear bombs. Moscow’s metro was made to be a metro, yes, but it also functions as a bomb shelter. So that is useful! But,” Tommy gestured wildly, “there was a flood in 2002, a big one – post-Czechoslovakia, remember that, you’ll make everyone want to beat you up if you don’t –, and people realized that if the metro can’t keep the water out, it can’t keep radiation out.” Wilbur finished eating, Tommy took a big bite. “And so, the whole idea of a metro bomb shelter was scrapped. That sucks, though. All the newer stations don’t even try to be a shelter, but I think that we could really use some. Maybe make them better, not throw the whole idea down the drain?” Tommy shook his head in a ‘Can you believe this nonsense?’ way. “Anyway. The first line was line C, and I think it’s the prettiest. The train models are basically the Russian ones, but they changed the lights and seats, I think. The lights definitely. A and B lines look bad, I’m very salty about that.” Tommy finished his monologue and bit down on his piece of sweet roll.
Just as Wilbur finished processing all of that and wanted to answer, Tommy informed him that the next stop is theirs. Wilbur forgot his answer and just nodded. Don't worry, he remembered later.
They got home safely. Tommy made Wilbur watch Krteček, a Czech kids’ cartoon about a little mole. There were almost no words, so it was easy to understand what was happening. Pat a Mat, the animated show they were watching earlier, also had no words. Good on Tommy for being considerate, I guess. Tommy asked Wilbur to tweet form his account and Wil complied. Tommy posted a shaky selfie of himself, one that a Facebook mum would do, with a caption. The caption read ‘HELLO?!?! I AM WILBUER’. Wil laughed at that, and after a few hours of messing around, they went to bed. Wil was sleeping in Tommy’s room, because Tommy’s parents were in the other bedroom. Tommy wanted them to be away from home while Wil was there, but they didn’t want to leave their son alone with a stranger he met on the internet. He understood that.
Still, Tommy couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. Wil was leaving tomorrow. Who knows when he’s coming back? And it’s not like Tommy can book a plane to London at any time – he’s a minor, his parents would have to go with him, and to link up schedules of four people was too much. It was way easier when Wilbur flies over to Tommy, but even that is difficult.
Tommy fell asleep with the feeling of having a brother for the first time in his life.
It was around quarter past seven, Wil and Tommy were waiting and talking at Prague’s Central Station. Wil was leaving at 7:38, Tommy was enjoying their last moments together in real life. It will be at least a year until he sees him again; only summer vacation works for them both. Wil just showed Tommy a meme from Philza’s subreddit and they were both laughing at it. Tommy kept glancing at the clock – the big one, the one that’s used as a meeting spot frequently. He wanted the time to stop, so Wilbur could stay with him for longer; but he also wanted time to speed up, so he could meet up with Tubbo next week. Wilbur also had plans of meeting up with someone later, it was Phil Minecraft.
Wilbur had all of his belongings packed. He knew how and when he was going to get back. He prepared and ready. Tommy was way less prepared and ready in comparison. Mixed emotions swirled within him, but he knew it would be fine. He has plenty of stuff to be excited for in the future – seeing Tubbo, growing on internet platforms, possibly working on merch designs.
When the time neared 7:25, Wilbur started saying his goodbyes. Wil ruffled Tommy’s hair and turned away from him to walk to his bus; Tommy, however, didn’t want to leave some last things unsaid.
Tommy tugged at Wilbur’s sleeve. “Wait!”
Wilbur turned around.
Tommy hugged him as tight as he could. “Now you can go.”
And Wilbur did go.