Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Wil, sorry I'm messaging you so late."

He exhaled. The cigarette smoke slowly disappeared into the night air, mixing with the city fog and smog.

"I really wanted to call or even meet and tell you in person, but..."

A cold wind was blowing through the open window where he was sitting. A car honked loudly on the next street, and on the floor below him a woman was swearing at a child. The guy barely paid any attention to these sounds.

"So… How am I supposed to say this..? Well... You remember that party six months ago? At Jared's house? There I met a girl... Her name is Ace, and she is a professional racer. I think you'd like her."

Someone from below could be heard closing the door with a loud bang. His neighbors clearly should have gone to family therapy. They've been fighting for weeks.

"I somehow got along with her right away. We talked for a long time, exchanged contacts. It turned out we have a lot in common! And... At first it seemed to me that it was just friendship… But now I've realized that it's something more... if you know what I mean."

The brunet wanted to inhale the smoke again, but saw that the cigarette in his hand had already burned out. He reached for a new one.

"Please know it's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. It just happened. You're... very nice, really! We had a great relationship… It was good while it lasted… But all good things come to an end… I feel that... this life is not for me. You work in the office for days on end… And I want something else."

She said that as if he liked this kind of life. As if he liked getting up at 6 in the morning and trudging to another part of the city. But she forgot that it was him who provided for her, working at this depressing job.

"So, when you receive this message, I have already packed my things and am waiting for her. I know it's wrong to give such news like this... but it had to be done. She invited me to go with her to another country. It was so unexpected, but I couldn't refuse. This is my chance to see the world, to find out what I'm capable of."

The clock struck 3 am. He didn't care. He wasn't going to sleep. This was nothing new really: his eyes had not closed for several days.

"But I hope it won't affect our relationship too much! I love you, just not in a romantic way. So maybe we can stay friends..? Anyway, I'll be back in a couple of months. Let's meet then and discuss it? A few months will be enough for you to comprehend our situation," a quiet sigh, "I think that's all. I don't know what else to say. Well, see you then? Bye for now."

A second later, a robotic female voice suggested he repeats the message again. He looked at the screen and thought for a bit, then threw the phone on the bed. He had been listening to Sally's message for several days without a break, trying to find at least some clues, answers. He looked through the entire history of their messages, recalled all the calls and conversations. Everything was... fine. Had he missed something?

She claimed it wasn't his fault, but the guy knew it wasn't true. She just didn't want to hurt him. Of course, it's Sally ! She is the sweetest and friendliest girl in the whole world! Of course she decided to spare his feelings. But the brunet was smart, at least that's what his teachers always told him. He knew the problem was with him.

He lay down on the bed, not caring about the window being wide open. Maybe he should get up, take a shower, get ready for tomorrow morning. A second later, he remembered the message his boss had sent him yesterday. He was fired for skipping work.

Well, apparently now he had no plans for tomorrow.

The guy smiled sadly. How miserable he is... even Sally decided to leave him. He doesn't have a job, which means he won't have any money soon. This will lead to  him not having enough money even for this tiniest apartment. He has no friends; he hasn't tried to get close to anyone for a long time. His small family had split up when he was still at school.

He had nothing that could bring him joy. The only joy in his life was Sally. And look where it led him.

The brunet sat down. His brown eyes quickly scanned the entire room. On the walls hung photographs taken by the red-haired girl. They were bright spots in this stuffy apartment.

Something was swaying in his chest. The guy wanted to scream, but his voice was gone. He wanted to cry, but there were no more tears. He could only sit and feel sorry for himself.

The brunet grinned. Why did he suddenly decide that he deserved pity at all?

"Fuck..." the guy said softly, and got up from the bed.

Tired of endless reflections, he decided to clear his head. So, he grabbed the first jacket he came across and, throwing it on, left the apartment without closing the window and door. He doesn't have anything that valuable anyway.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

He walked until he no longer recognized the surrounding houses and streets. Neon bar signs glowed in the narrow alleys. Smog covered the stars. This was one of the many reasons why the brunet hated big cities so much.

He walked past parks, closed shops, quiet alleyways and didn't even notice how he found himself on the bridge connecting the two banks of the river. The guy put his hands on the railing and leaned slightly over it to peer into the dark surface of the water. However, he was too high up to see his own reflection.

Suddenly, the brunet remembered that this bridge was the most popular place for suicides in the city. He smiled. The bridge was so high above the water that the chances of survival when jumping were very small.

Maybe if he failed to find happiness in life, then at least he would be able to find peace after death?

With these thoughts, the guy looked around and, making sure that there was no one nearby who could stop him, climbed over the railing and sat on the very edge, dangling his legs over the river. What made him think that anyone would want to save him at all ? No one will remember him (perhaps Sally will think about his fate a couple of times, but it will still be better; he will save them both from awkwardness in communication). He will jump, and the only mention that he once existed will be an entry in the statistics of committed suicides. And even there he will remain just another nameless victim amongst others.

The brunet noticed out of the corner of his eye a phone installed nearby. There was a suicide prevention poster next to it. The guy just grinned and turned away in the other direction.

He took off his jacket and put it away from the edge. He had only recently bought it; perhaps someone would find it and give it to some shelter. He won't need it anyway. While the brunet was carefully folding it, he felt that something was in the pockets. He took out all the contents and began to examine them. There was nothing extremely interesting there: an almost empty pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a few coins and... a phone? The guy didn't remember grabbing it when he left, but it was a matter of habit, he supposed. He knew that there was no one who would call him, but he still preferred to carry the gadget with him.

He put everything else next to the jacket, and unlocked the phone. He barely restrained himself from opening the messages; instead, he found the search engine and opened the search history. People joke that you always have to have time to delete it before you die, so why not follow this "advice"? Then the brunet decided to delete all the photos from his phone. He opened the camera roll and started choosing all the photos in a row. He had almost reached the end and accidentally tapped at one of them. He was confronted with a photograph that his mother had once sent him. It was a shot of the page from one album she kept. The photo there was slightly blurred due to the inexperience of the woman with any sorts of gadgets, but the guy still recognized it without any problems. It was taken many years ago, when the brunet wasn't even 12; when his family was still whole. That year he went to the ocean with his parents. This was the first and last time he had a chance to see those huge waves, feel the breeze, smell the salty air. He still remembered his admiration and delight. He remembered his father's car, in which they drove for several days, and the music that he and his mother chose so carefully. He remembered the hotel room where the windows overlooked the beach.

He remembered everything in detail. It hurt even more because of that.

His father promised him that someday he would see the ocean again, that someday they would all get in the car together again and go to the other end of the country. It was a lie. Their family had fallen apart, and the car was now parked somewhere in the garage.

The guy looked at the photo again, and a slight smile appeared on his face. He looked so happy at that moment…

And suddenly a realization came to him. Yes, the father lied, and they will never be able to go there as a family again. But what if he still managed to see the ocean one more time, just by himself? Maybe then he will find happiness? If anything, it's never too late to continue what he had started here somewhere else.

But for now, he was willing to wait.

He hurriedly climbed back over the railing, took his jacket and hurried towards the garage where his father's car had been idle for many years. Cigarettes and lighter were left lying on the bridge.

At 4 am Wilbur Soot decided he wanted to try once again.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The guy spent several days dealing with the car. After years of no use, it didn't start at all. However, thanks to several tutorials from the Internet, he managed to somehow fix it. He filled up the gasoline, climbed inside, started it, and when the engine roared back to life, the brunet exhaled and leaned back in his seat with satisfaction. Everything here was painfully familiar. It seemed as if time had been standing still in this car throughout all these years. There were still paper maps and guidebooks in the glove compartment, candy wrappers and candy bars that had expired when Wil was still at school. The guy turned and looked back. Behind him, in the place where he usually sat, lay a dusty stuffed toy. The brunet reached for it, carefully picked it up, dusted it off and smiled. It was Friend - a blue sheep, with whom he was practically inseparable as a child. At some point, he forgot about it. Turns out it's been here all this time.

Wilbur, with a satisfied expression on his face, put it on the passenger seat. Why would he need another companion when he already had Friend?

The guy spent a few more days cleaning and decorating the car. He collected all the most valuable things from the apartment and took them to the car, leaving everything else behind. Surprisingly, his whole life somehow fit into a small backpack. There were several articles of clothing, all the money he had saved, documents, headphones, the phone and a charger for it. Expired bars and other garbage were thrown away, and new snacks appeared in their place. Wil also put his guitar in the car, and realizing that it was quite uncomfortable to play while sitting in the back seat, he removed the seats without further thought, freeing up a lot of space. He didn't have any companions anyway, so he decided to use the vacant space for sleeping. The brunet laid a mattress and a blanket there, threw a couple of small pillows and looked at the result.

It was... cozy inside. Despite the changes that had taken place, the car was still recognizable.

Wil nodded, looked at his Friend and went home.

The next morning, March 30, Wilbur jumped into the car and began a journey to the other side of the country, not knowing at all what was waiting for him. And when the landlady messaged him about the late payment, he just grinned and put the phone aside.

He definitely wasn't going back to that stuffy apartment.

Chapter Text

"So where are you going on vacation?"

The blond shrugged, not taking his eyes off the laptop. His interlocutor was standing by his bed and putting his clothes in a small green suitcase. Tommy sighed, leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have been working on the assignment all night.

"To my parents, where else?"

"You know, the offer to come with us is still valid. Tickets will be even cheaper a few days before departure."

"If my parents found out that I went to America without permission, they would immediately find me and kill me. My life is still dear to me, so I’ll pass."

Now Tubbo shrugged and closed the suitcase, having finished packing. He picked up a full duffle bag from the floor and put it next to the suitcase, then turned to his friend. Tommy got to his feet, walked over to the guy and hugged him, patting him lightly on the back.

"Text me. Don't let Ranboo cloud your mind and forget about me," the blond whispered.

"Okay. You text me as well. I hope next time we will be able to go together," the brunet replied, pulling away.

The elder took his things, took another look at their dorm room and headed for the door. Tommy waved goodbye to him and went to the window.

A few minutes later, the student saw through the glass as his roommate approached the car, near which Ranboo was standing, and, putting his bags in the trunk, sat in the front seat. After that, the car moved off and quickly left the parking lot.

Tommy didn't know how long he had been standing in front of the window, but when he looked at his watch, he realized that he had to go to class. The student took a jacket, his laptop, several notebooks and the bag that was hanging on a hook on the wall, and left the room.

A few minutes later, the guy was outside. The warm April wind stirred the barely opened flowers and fresh leaves. Birds chirped, flew from place to place. The sun sometimes peeked through the light clouds. Students from different faculties were going around the campus. Someone was just walking, someone was in a hurry to attend lectures, and someone was saying goodbye to friends for the holidays.

Tommy stopped at the tall statue of the founder of the university. The stone figure looked at the blond with a cold gaze. The student looked at it for a long time, peering into every crack, after which he smiled slightly and took out his instant camera, always hidden in the very depths of the bag. He found the perfect angle showing the full power of this old statue, there was a quiet click, after which a small photo appeared in the guy’s hands. He looked at it, nodded contentedly and put the photo in his bag along with the camera, taking out his phone and looking at the time. When Tommy saw the numbers on the screen, he realized that there were less than 10 minutes left before the class started.

He could take off, run, pushing aside passers-by, and barely have time for another boring lecture. But suddenly the blond man looked at the big gate leading to the exit from the campus and moved towards them. He was already in bad standing with most of the professors, how could another absenteeism harm his reputation even further? He didn't even like math and economics that much!

The student walked quickly, trying to blend in with the crowd and remain unnoticed. He succeeded, and he stoped a few meters from the gate. Where to now?

Tommy decided to start with a park nearby. There, as well as on the university grounds, everything bloomed and smelled. Since it was a surprisingly pleasant day outside, it was a sin to spend it in stuffy classrooms.

The guy was walking along the sandy paths, deeply inhaling the fresh April air. He soon found a small kiosk selling all kinds of snacks that attracted children so much. It was relatively early, so there was no queue yet. The blond bought himself a cup of hot chocolate (he hated coffee with passion; it was a disgusting drink), an ordinary sandwich and began to look for a free bench with a good view. It turned out to be simple, and he sat down on a bench near a large fountain.

The student was going to spend time scrolling through social media and watching random videos, but suddenly noticed a crowd of people at the edge of the fountain. They were all standing and looking at something with delight. Tommy got interested, so he stood up and slowly walked closer to the group of strangers. He decided to walk around them from the side to examine the object of their attention.

The guy heard it before he saw it. A song was heard behind the observers, accompanied by the melody of a guitar. The student perched on the side of the fountain a little aside from the others and began his breakfast, sometimes glancing at the singer.

It was a lanky young man with curly dark hair that literally glowed from the sunlight falling on it. His fingers plucked the strings quickly, playing a song that Tommy seemed to have heard on the radio several times.

" And a thousand times I've seen this road

A thousand times...

I've got no roots

But my home was never on the ground

I've got no roots

But my home was never on the ground

I've got no roots

I've got no roots "

Tommy liked to think that he wasn't listening to the words, that the song was just playing somewhere in the background. He's never been a fan of such silly, repetitive pop songs. But something hooked him. Maybe it was the clear sound of a guitar, maybe the calm voice of the singer. The student, not even knowing why, took out his camera and quickly took a single photo of this performance.

The song ended faster than the blond had expected. He turned to look at the brunet again, who by that time had already finished singing and, holding the guitar, stood up and bowed to his audience, which was no more than 20 people.

"That's it for today, thank you all for listening!" he smiled.

Some people from the audience clapped, some threw a few bills into his guitar case, but a few minutes passed, and the crowd scattered in different directions, leaving the singer alone. He picked up the case from the ground, took out all the money he earned and started packing.

Tommy finished his breakfast, rummaged in his pockets and took out some cash. He awkwardly approached the musician, who was standing with his back turned to him, and waited for him to turn around. A few minutes passed, and the brunet finally turned around, hanging the guitar on his back.

"Um... is everything okay?" the singer asked, a slight worry visible on his face.

"Yes!" the student suddenly answered loudly.

Both did not take their eyes off each other for almost a minute. The silence was getting awkward.

"If everything is fine, then why are you staring at me?" the stranger broke the silence.

"I'm not staring at anything! You're the one staring!" the younger one exclaimed.

"What? It was you who approached me!"

"I wanted to be a noble person and give you money for the songs, but now I see that you are a bitch and don't deserve it."

"Okay..?"

"Yes."

"Okay… Is this conversation over? I'll go then."

"Yeah, go, go!"

The elder chuckled, adjusted the strap of the case and headed straight down the path deeper into the park without looking back.

Tommy watched him go for a couple more moments, then grinned and put the money in his pocket. At the same moment, he realized that he had never seen this musician before and would probably never see him again. It was a pity, he would like to hear more songs performed by the mysterious singer.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The next day Tommy woke up in an empty room. It was another reminder that he was going back home to his parents while his two best friends were in America. The guy sighed and lazily got up from the bed.

He had no classes today, so he didn't even need to come up with excuses for absenteeism. In order to somehow occupy his free time, he decided to play Minecraft. However, soon he got tired of aimlessly wandering around their shared (and at that time empty) world, so the guy closed the game, and boredom overcame him once again.

Deep down, the blond knew that he should have been packing his things, but for some reason he was procrastinating.

When the student got tired of sitting within the four walls, he took an almost empty bag and jacket and went outside.

Saturday afternoon turned out to be overcast. An unpleasant rain drizzled periodically, gray clouds covered the entire sky. There were less people on campus than there were yesterday: perhaps it was because of the weather, and perhaps it was the fact that even more students left for the holidays.

For some reason, the blond found himself back in the park. After the heavy rain last night, the place now smelled of grass and damp soil. The guy took a deep breath. It was his favorite smell, but it was hard to find in the city where he grew up.

The student went to the kiosk again, bought the same thing he had bought yesterday, and was about to sit on the same bench when he suddenly heard the sound of a guitar.

To his surprise, at the fountain he found the musician he had seen yesterday. This time the brunet was not surrounded by a crowd of spectators - he was sitting alone in an almost empty park and, despite everything, playing the guitar. There were only a couple of coins in the guitar case. The song he sang was as calm as the gloomy sky above their heads.

" I'm sitting in this hotel room tonight

Somewhere above my head, the Hollywood sign burning bright

Through the walls I hear lovers fight

The TV's on, I keep it playing for the light "

Tommy unconsciously reached for the camera in his bag. He took it out and wanted to take a picture of the lonely musician. The guy could only hope that the brunet was too carried away by the song and did not notice him.

" There's ringing in my ears all the time

Beneath that noise a silence so divine

Twenty dollars for a drink from the minibar

Stare at the sky, but I can't see any stars

Awake, in this borrowed room

Thoughts spinning in the cosmos like a moon

Awake, my dreams in a line

Waiting for my mind to go black "

The blond cursed under his breath when he realized that the angle was terrible. He should have come closer, but at the same time it meant that the probability of being noticed increased drastically. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as a creep or a stalker.

But a good picture was worth it.

" I listen to the ghosts in the corridors

All the men and women that were here before

Just a stranger in this strange town

I'll be forgotten tomorrow when they turn the bed down

Awake, in this borrowed room

Thoughts spinning in the cosmos like a moon

Awake, my dreams in a line

Waiting for my mind to go black "

The guy got up from his seat, went to the fountain, but a little further from the place where the stranger was sitting. The blond sat on the side, holding a camera in his hands. He had to act quickly so as not to arouse suspicion. Therefore, the student abruptly raised the camera, pointed it at the musician and took a photo. It appeared in his hands a moment later, and despite the haste, it turned out to be surprisingly clear. Maybe Tommy actually had a talent?..

" All the lonely hearts, that travelled so far

To drink in bars where no one knows your name

To the night we belong, our stories our songs

Spirits dance in the corner of our eyes

Raise your glass with trembling hands

Curse the devil as you stand

Hear him laugh, drink deep anyway

Hear him laugh, drink deep anyway

Hear him laugh, drink deep anyway "

...Nah. It was just a stupid hobby. He will graduate and work as an economist, just as his parents wanted. Or at least this will be the case if he manages to get a diploma at all. With his deteriorating grades, it will be a true miracle.

"I see you, you know," the musician interrupted his thoughts, having finished singing.

Tommy turned his head to the elder. He was sitting in the same position, playing a random melody that came to his mind. But the student knew that these words were addressed to him: there was no one around except the two of them.

The blond got up, put away the camera and photo and approached the stranger.

"Who would’ve thought that an annoying child would come here again."

"I'm not a child! I'm almost 18, asshole!"

"At 17 you're still legally considered to be a child."

"Oi, shut up!"

The brunet shrugged and fell silent. Tommy sat down next to him on the side of the fountain and looked at the green trees. The landscape, despite the gray clouds, made him smile. No wonder April was his favorite month.

"I’ve never seen you here before yesterday," the younger one said calmly, turning to the singer.

"Because I'm not from here. I'm just passing through, stopped for a couple of days."

"Oh! So you're traveling, guitar boy!" Tommy exclaimed and leaned forward slightly to see the other person's face.

"Guitar boy? Couldn't think of anything better?"

"Well, you don't tell me your name, so I had to call you something. And you have a guitar so I think the name suits you well enough."

The brunet sighed.

"Wilbur."

"Tom, but only the professors call me that. The others call me Tommy."

"Huh. So you're from here, Tommy?"

"No… I live in a city a few hours away by train. I'm only here for the uni," the younger one sighed.

"Do you study at that university that's not far from here?"

"Yeah, study economics and shit."

"Then why are you here?" the question caught the student off guard, but Wil continued, "You should be on holidays now, if I'm not mistaken. Therefore, you had to leave with your family or friends. And if not, then you should have classes."

"Well, you guessed wrong!" Tommy smiled smugly, "Today I have a free day. And my parents will pick me up on Monday."

The guy said the last sentence quieter. Wilbur noticed this, but did not question him. The brunet wanted to ask the next question, but the student beat him to it.

"Now you tell me. Why are you here?"

"I already told you. I'm traveling."

"How long will you be traveling?"

"I don't know. Maybe a week, maybe a month."

"And your boss let you go without any problems?!”

"I don't have a boss. I am unemployed since recently."

"What about your family? Won't they be worried?"

"I haven't talked to my parents for almost a year. And my girlfriend and I broke up recently."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"Nah, it’s all good," the musician replied, "I’m totally okay with it."

A few moments of silence passed.

"But can I say the same about you?"

The younger one turned to Wil with his eyes wide open.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, you know. You were here yesterday. I will never believe that you didn't have classes yesterday either."

"I-"

"And if you liked studying here, you wouldn't have reasons to skip classes," the singer stopped for a second, and finally looked up at the guy next to him, "You don't want to be here, do you?"

Tommy paused and looked down at the ground.

"Can't a teenager rebel and skip classes a couple of times?"

Wilbur sighed and started improvising on the guitar again.

“Forget it.”

They sat in silence a bit longer, until Tommy struck a new conversation.

"You said you were passing through here?"

"Yes. I won't be here tomorrow evening.”

"And where are you going?"

"I don't know. I'm moving west, but who knows where I'll end up."

"So, you don't know where you're going, you don't know for how long… How can you even do that? Is it possible to go somewhere without a plan, almost blindly?"

"Tommy, that's the whole point. I have lived my whole life according to the standard plan: finish school, go to university, get a diploma, find a job, fall in love, have children and grow old with my family. But eventually, everything went downhill. After school, all those whom I considered friends dispersed. I dropped out of university because I realized that it wasn't for me. My job weighed me down. And when I thought I had found the love of my life, it turned out that she didn't see me the way I saw her. So I just had to throw this plan out the window and start over. And as soon as I found myself in a completely unfamiliar city, I realized that this was exactly what I needed. Yeah, someday my journey will come to an end, and I will have to look for something new to do. But for now I'm enjoying the time spent on the road."

After finishing a short monologue, Wil sighed and, getting to his feet, began to put away the guitar.

"The only negative is the terrible silence. Maybe I should have found a companion, but... I didn't have any suitable candidates," the musician added, zipped up the case and threw it on his back.

He smiled slightly at Tommy, gave him a quick wink and, waving his hand, headed back into the park.

Tommy remained sitting on the edge of the fountain until it started to rain.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

That night, the guy couldn't sleep. He lay in bed, eyes closed tightly, and tried to get all thoughts out of his head. But the face of the new acquaintance continued to pop up in his memory.

This Wilbur guy was absolutely incredible. How does he live so carefree?! How can he enjoy it?

But... he himself hadn't tried it. And if you don't try, you won't find out if you like it or not, right?..

Tommy quickly rolled onto his side, facing the wall. Why is he even thinking about that?! He has enough life experience to understand that this is not for him.

But on the other hand, Wil seemed so free… Tommy could feel it, even just standing next to him. It was unusual to meet such an interesting person among the boring routine. The student would like to get to know him closer…

But Wilbur will leave tomorrow, and the blond will never see him again. He will leave this small town, and will remain only in Tommy's memory.

But what if they can stay together? After all, the musician mentioned his desire to find a companion for a reason… Maybe Tommy could become this companion? They have been communicating well over the past two days…

The student rolled over from his side to his back and opened his eyes. It was dark in the room: it was still raining outside, and clouds covered the sky, the moon and stars. The silhouettes of furniture and objects were barely visible only thanks to the light of a single lantern in the parking lot next to his window.

The blond turned his head to the table and noticed a camera there, which he took out of his bag yesterday and left by the bed for some reason. The guy sighed and put his hand on his forehead. Who was he trying to deceive? He hated all this. If math was somewhat okay at school, then math at university was practically killing him from the inside.

His passion was photography, no matter how much he or other people in his life said otherwise. This camera and the pictures taken with it were the most valuable things he had ever owned.

He was just afraid to admit that this hobby was more than just a hobby. Tommy didn't want to disappoint his parents. But on the other hand, he could not tell them about his desire. The student has made such attempts before, but adults constantly tried to convince him that he was wrong. At some point, he just stopped trying and resigned himself to fate.

But if the blond goes home for the holidays, he will have to face this problem. Tommy really didn't want to talk about the future, and his parents were unlikely to leave this topic alone.

Maybe it is actually better for him not to go home, but to go on a trip with Wil?

But what about studying? What will his parents say? They forbade him to go with Tubbo and Ranboo to America because of his poor grades. They obviously won't be thrilled if they find out about his idea to leave with some guy he met few days ago…

But what if they don't find out?

And at that moment Tommy found an internal compromise. He would travel around the country with his new acquaintance for a month, and when the holidays were over, he would return to uni. His parents would think that he has stayed in town, and in the meantime he will sort himself out.

The blond smiled, closing his eyes. He really was a genius.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Tommy overslept.

The student woke up, looked at his watch and saw that he got up much later than usual. It would be fine on any other day, but around this time Wilbur was usually leaving the park.

Today was the last day the musician was in town. Tommy's last chance to get out of the boring routine. He couldn't miss it.

Therefore, the blond got dressed without even running into the bathroom, and, grabbing a bag with everything necessary and a jacket, rushed to the exit. He got out into the street and ran to the gate, sometimes stepping into puddles that formed after the night rain. He hoped Wilbur would still be in the park when he got there.

The blond had almost left the campus when suddenly a man's voice called out to him.

"Thomas Innit."

The guy sighed and swore to himself. The fact that one of the professors noticed him was already bad enough. But he was noticed by the most annoying of them all.

"Professor Erickson, hi," Tommy said, turning around.

"Didn't expect to see you here. You haven't been in my classes at all lately," the man continued.

"Excuse me, sir, but I really need to go right now," the blond began, but the professor interrupted him.

"I'm sure whatever urgent matter you have can wait. Come with me, Thomas."

The student sighed again, but followed the elder. He could only hope that Wil would wait for him for a few minutes.

They soon entered one of the buildings and, walking through the corridors, found the office. The man let Tommy go ahead, then went in as well and closed the door. He motioned the younger to a chair next to his desk, and the blond sat down, hanging his jacket on the chair. Mr. Erickson sat down opposite him.

"Mr. Innit. You probably know why I called you," the elder began.

"No, I have no idea," the student said sarcastically.

"I ask you to take this situation more seriously. Care to share the reason for your absence from class?"

"Was feeling sick," Tommy quickly came up with an excuse, leaning back in his chair.

"I see. So you feel sick to study, but well enough to run outside on a cold day," Erickson chuckled, "I don't think you understand, young man. You think that you have all the time in the world. But the end of the year is rapidly approaching. You won't have a chance to pass the exams if you constantly neglect your education."

"And what do you suggest?"

"I'm glad you asked," the professor smiled mockingly.

He opened a drawer in his desk, rummaged around and took out a small stack of papers, placing it in front of Tommy.

"What is it?" the blond asked.

"These are assignments that you missed."

"Oh, well... I'll do them and bring them to you as soon as possible," the guy said, getting up from his seat, but the man interrupted him.

"No, Thomas, it's not your homework. You will now sit down and do all the tasks that are in front of you. Maybe then you can fix your plight."

Tommy flipped through the stack and quickly realized that these tasks would be enough to keep him occupied for several days without a break for rest.

"What the hell?! Have you seen how many there are! You can't force me to do all this in front of you!" the student exclaimed.

"If you would’ve attended classes like the rest of your peers do, then you wouldn't be in this situation," the professor replied, rising from his seat to be at the same eye level as the blond, "I'm trying to help you, Mr. Innit. I am the only thing that keeps you away from getting expelled. Without me, you would have been kicked out of here a long time ago. But I'm trying to help you. Trying to save your hopeless future!"

"I didn't ask for this! I can figure out ‘my holpless future’ by myself," Tommy exclaimed and threw the papers he had in his hands back on the table, then ran out of the office.

Erickson was shouting something after him with displeasure, but the younger one did not hear what it was exactly (although he, of course, had his own assumptions about it). He soon found himself on the street and rushed to the park. The blond looked at his watch and realized with horror that the professor had detained him longer than he had expected. This made the student to speed up his running. Only a few minutes later he realized that he had left his jacket in the office, but he did not go back for it.

There were a lot of people in the park, despite the cold day. Small children kept getting in Tommy's way, dogs barked from everywhere, and teenagers didn't seem to look where they were going at all.

Among so many passers-by, the guy had almost no chance of finding Wilbur. He decided to get to a higher point, so when he saw a bench by the fountain, one half of which was occupied by an elderly woman, the blond jumped onto the second half, ignoring her grumbling. He stood on his toes and looked around. Wil was a tall bastard, he couldn't be missed so easily. And when the student had already decided that the musician had left the park, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a familiar red beanie in the stream of people. Seeing it, Tommy jumped off the bench and hurried after Wilbur, pushing aside passers-by.

After a few minutes, he managed to close the distance between them. Wil had almost reached the exit of the park, and Tommy was standing a few meters away from him. By the time he himself left the park, the singer would have already disappeared from his field of vision.

Therefore, he had no choice but to shout as loud as he could after him.

"Wilbur!"

The elder stopped and turned at the shout. Tommy ran even closer to him and stopped, leaning forward and trying to catch his breath.

"Tommy? What a surprise. I didn't think you'd come anymore. You usually come earlier."

"One professor decided to detain me and read me a lecture about my great academic performance," the blond replied and straightened up.

"I'm glad you decided to say goodbye. I admit, it was nice to meet you. Who knows, maybe someday we'll see each other again..." the brunet began, but the student interrupted him.

"Wait, wait! Didn't you say you'd like a companion?"

Wilbur raised an eyebrow and looked at Tommy blankly.

"Well, let's say I did. So what?"

"What do you mean ‘so what’? Don't you get the hints at all? You need a companion, I need to have some fun during the holidays.”

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Wow, I didn't think you'd ever offer! But if you beg me like that, then I will be merciful and go with you," the student said mockingly.

"I didn't beg you," Wil replied softly, but was ignored.

"Oh, Wilbur, I will save you from longing and loneliness! Remember the name of your savior - Tommy Innit!"

"Okay, child, let's go. And why are you without a jacket? It's cold outside."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Tommy walked into the room where he had lived with Tubbo for the past year and quietly closed the door.

He looked around the room, trying to decide what he might need and what would be left behind. It turned out to be more difficult than he expected. Everything here mattered to him.

But Wilbur told him to take only what would fit in the bag, so he took it off his shoulder and emptied all the contents onto the bed.

On the bed in front of him now was an instant camera, several photos, a wallet with a couple of bills and coins inside, a phone, documents and books that the guy constantly forgot to pull out.

He put the books on the table - he won't need them during the trip. He put important things, such as his documents and money, in the inner pocket. After that, he went to the closet, took out a clean set of clothes and, folding it tightly, put it in a bag. It took up a lot of space, but it was necessary.

Then Tommy looked under his bed and rummaged there. By touch the blond found the stash he had been saving for so long, and also put it in his bag.

The student looked at the laptop for a long time, but decided to leave it. There was nothing important there anyway, just an endless amount of assignments on various subjects.

Instead, the guy carefully put the camera inside and stopped. He took the photos and examined them, deciding what to do with them. Three of them were made in the last few days, but two had been lying in the bag for a long time.

One of the old pictures showed Ranboo and Tubbo playing some kind of horror game last Halloween. Since at the time the guys had only two laptops (Tubbo's laptop suddenly broke down after he decided to test its durability and strength and stopped turning it off or putting it into sleep mode), they had to share. Therefore, the blond managed to evade that terrible experience that deprived his friends of sleep for the next few days.

The second photo showed one of the professors in a very strange dress. This picture was taken by Tubbo on the day Tommy bet his Instax and quickly lost the bet. The brunet then took possession of the camera and used a whole pack of film. The blond did not remember how this photo ended up in the bag.

He stuffed most of the pictures into a small pocket, except for this last one, which he left on Tubbo's bed.

Having finished packing, the student took a piece of paper and scribbled a small note in case he could not contact his roommate by phone, put the bag on his shoulder and left the room. He closed the door and put the key under the carpet.

There was a great journey ahead of him, but he had to leave something behind for that.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Tommy went outside and took a deep breath. He reached for the Instax, quickly snapped a photo to capture the campus as it was during his departure, and put the camera back. While the blond was zipping up the bag, Wilbur came up to him, twirling the car keys on his finger.

"Ready to go?" the guy asked.

"Ready as ever.

"Then let's go," Wil smiled, took him by the elbow and led his new companion towards the parking lot; Tommy could barely keep up with him.

They stopped at a dark red car. The elder first opened the door for the blond. The student was slightly confused, lost in his thoughts and last doubts, but one light push in the back made him come back to reality. He got into the car and the door slammed behind him.

While Wilbur was walking to his seat, Tommy managed to quickly inspect the interior of the car. It seemed strange to him at first glance.

For starters, there were no backseats at all. In their place there was a large mattress and a blanket, several small pillows and a soft plushy in the form of a blue sheep.

The musician got into the driver's seat and started the engine. He looked at the student and smiled.

"You can put your things in the back so you don't have to keep them on your lap," the older one suggested, and Tommy followed his advice. After he put the bag next to the backpack, which undoubtedly belonged to the brunet, for some reason he took a soft toy and began to examine it. Wil noticed it.

"It's Friend."

"Friend?"

"Friend. I've had this toy since my childhood, so be careful with it."

The blond nodded and put Friend on the dashboard and patted the toy on the head.

"Sure you haven't forgotten anything? We are not coming back for quite some time," the brunet asked and, having received a positive answer, pressed the gas pedal. The car moved and left the parking lot.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"I wanted to talk to you about a few rules that I want you to follow," Wilbur said as they approached the border of the town.

"I'm listening," Tommy answered him, scrolling through social media.

"First, even though you are a minor, you are already old enough, so I am not gonna be responsible for you. Whatever happens to you will be on you. So you have to give me your parents' phone number, just in case."

The blond shuddered and shook his head.

"Is there no way we can avoid that?"

"Are you at odds with your parents? Then give me the phone number of some other relatives."

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just… I'm a big man, I can take care of myself! I don't need guardians," the guy exclaimed.

The musician sighed.

"Fine, but promise me you'll text them."

"Okay, okay," Tommy said, knowing he wasn't going to keep that promise.

"Okay, then the second one. I'm not going to wait for you or put up with you if you're too annoying. If you get too unbearable, you'll have to get back on your own."

Tommy nodded.

"And finally, we don't touch each other's things without asking."

"Of course, this is fairly logical," the younger said and yawned.

"You want to sleep? You can move to the back and lie down there," Wil suggested, without taking his eyes off the road.

"But I'm hungry," the student replied, and yawned again.

The musician sighed.

"You're such a child… I'll wake you up when I find a decent place for us to eat. In the meantime, listen to what the adults tell you and go rest."

Tommy sighed, but climbed in the back and put his head on the pillow. He still had his phone in his hands - he was thinking of texting someone, but realized how strange his story might sound, and postponed it indefinitely. The blond reached for the bag and put the gadget there.

His eyes started to close and his thoughts started to mix up, so he softly said, "I can't believe you kidnapped a child, Wilby..."

"I didn't kidnap anyone! You asked for it yourself- Wait, did you... did you just call me Wilby?" Wilbur turned back, but when he saw that his companion had already fallen asleep, he grinned and turned his gaze back to the road, switching the music on the radio to something calmer.

Perhaps having one companion really wouldn't hurt.

Chapter Text

" When we scraped our bones together

We got fire… "

The song was coming from the speakers in the car. Tommy didn't know if it was loud enough to hear from the street. Well, if that was the case, then angry locals would have already come to complain to them. Not that he cared much about it. Wil could have handled the situation anyway.

"Fire, fire, fire!" the blond and the brunet sang in unison, laughing fervently.

The words were repeated a couple more times before the song ended and the car got quiet. Both passengers chuckled slightly and did not move from their seats, as if afraid to disturb the established atmosphere of night calm.

Tommy was reclining where the back seats would’ve normally been, holding the blue sheep. He looked out of the window, and it seemed to him that time on the street froze. The student didn’t know what time it was, but judging by the absence of any movement outside, he could assume that it was very late.

When the blonde got tired of looking at the other side of the glass, he lazily shifted his gaze to his friend. He was stretching, sitting in the driver's seat. Noticing that he was being watched, the musician turned and looked at the younger one.

“Tired?” he asked.

Tommy shook his head and yawned. Wil grinned and, closing the small curtains on the windows of the front seats, carefully climbed back to his companion.

“Sleep, child. It's time for you to go to bed,” the brunet said, pulling the curtains in the back seat as well.

“Oh, fuck you! I'm not a child!” the student playfully pushed him on the shoulder, ”Aren't you going to turn on the heating? It's cold outside!”

“Nope. We will spend all the gasoline during the night if we do that. And we still have the whole road ahead.”

”What am I supposed to do now, freeze to death?”

“That's why I have a blanket here,” Wilbur sighed and nodded at the red woolen fabric already lying on the teenager's lap.

“It's an outrage. First, you kidnap me, then you freeze me to death,” Tommy said dramatically and lay down on his side, curling up in a ball and clutching a stuffed sheep to his chest, “Friend is very disappointed in you.”

Wil sighed again.

“Good night, gremlin,” he whispered.

“You too, maybe,” the blond grinned in response, and the car became quiet again.

The brunet didn’t complain about the lack of a blanket, but only pulled the coat tighter and smiled. He didn’t regret agreeing to take this boy with him on the road.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Tommy woke up the next morning in the car alone. But before he could panic, he noticed a piece of paper left by Wilbur on the dashboard. The teenager crawled closer to the note, picked it up, and, rubbing his eyes, quickly scanned its contents. It turned out that the older one had gone in search of breakfast and decided not to wake the younger one. The blond realized that the car was at his disposal for some time.

The student went back to lie down, but he didn’t manage to fall asleep again. Then he took his phone out of his bag and, after briefly twirling it in his hands, put it in his jeans pocket. It was not yet the time for anyone to know about his "adventure". The boy's gaze fell on the camera, but he decided to refrain from taking spontaneous photos - he didn’t know where he could find a suitable film.

Tommy put down his bag and sighed as he draped the blanket over his shoulders. He decided to sit still and just wait, but he soon got tired of it, and the guy deftly climbed into the front seat. The teenager ignored Wilbur's backpack on the driver's seat, despite the fact that he really wanted to know what secrets his companion kept. Instead, he pulled out his phone and quickly found his Animal Crossing playlist. He jabbed at the first track he came across, and Able Sisters played from the speakers. Tommy smiled contentedly and, putting the phone on the dashboard, opened the glove box. Finding snacks, he rubbed his palms together and began to examine each one of them. Within a few minutes, both the driver's seat and the place next to it were strewn with bars and packages. The blond, of course, didn't open any. (Or maybe he did… but who would notice the loss of some chocolate bar?)

After the student got acquainted with the food supplies, he moved on to looking at the guidebooks. He was somewhere near the middle of one of them when the car door opened.

Wil halted abruptly, holding a box in his hands, probably filled with the promised breakfast. Tommy slowly turned his gaze to the brunet, at first not understanding the guy's reaction. However, as soon as he noticed the mess, which he did not have time to clean, everything immediately fell into place. The travelers' eyes met, but no one uttered a word or even moved. The musician was waiting for an explanation, but the boy really didn’t want to provide it.

So they just stared at each other in silence, keeping their expressions neutral as Able Sisters played over the speakers. The situation became more and more awkward with every passing second.

"You gremlin! What is this?! You can't be left alone for a minute?" Wilbur finally exclaimed, pointing displeasedly at a pile of snacks lying on the driver's seat.

"I was bored!" Tommy replied and began stuffing everything back into the glove compartment, "It's not my fault that you chose to keep sweets in a place that's easily accessible to me."

"You're an unbearable child…" Wil sighed, got into the car seat next to the teenager, put the breakfast box on the dashboard, and looked at the phone, from which the annoying melody came, "What is this ?!"

The older reached out to turn off the music, but the younger got ahead of him and grabbed the phone.

"You don't understand anything about art, Wilbur! And yet you call yourself a musician! This is Able Sisters , the greatest composition of all time!"

The brunet groaned, covering his face with his hands and leaning on the steering wheel. Tommy looked at him, then at the screen, then back at him, and without hesitation turned up the sound. Now the music was playing at full volume and perfectly drowned out the sounds of Wil's suffering. Satisfied with himself, the student reached for the box, pulled out still-warm tea and waffles, and began to eat, shaking his head slightly to the rhythm.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The automatic doors opened, and cold air hit the travelers' faces.

It was only April 4th on the calendar, but the sun was already warming the earth. However, it wasn’t really hot outside: as soon as the wind blew and the sun disappeared behind the clouds, everyone would try to wrap up in a warm scarf or coat as soon as possible. Tommy wasn't a fan of sudden temperature changes in the spring, but it hardly bothered him now. Even in a hoodie, the teenager was trembling, so Wil, showing sympathy, gave him his coat, remaining only in a black turtleneck. But, it turned out, the brunet intended to get his coat back, so he brought his companion to the nearest shopping center to find outerwear for the blonde there.

“How did you even go on a trip and didn't take at least one jacket?” the musician exclaimed in surprise, rubbing his shoulders and looking around.

“You said to take as few things as possible! It's not my fault that my bag is too small for bulky jackets and coats.”

“And I also told you to take the most necessary things! After all, you could have just put it on yourself! It's not that hard to come up with something.”

“Well, it's too late for me to do any of that.”

“You're not wrong here,” Wilbur sighed and stopped at a map located on a large stand in the middle of the shopping center.

While the older one was looking for suitable stores on the map, the younger one was looking around. There were few people walking around, probably because it was Monday morning - all normal people were working or studying. Tommy and Wilbur, apparently, were not among the normal people.

The showcases glowed with bright signs, posters hung on the windows notifying customers about discounts. Mannequins stood in fashionable (and often expensive) clothes. In some places, there were even shops with dishes, sweets, electronics, and everything else.

Suddenly, the blond's gaze stopped at an inconspicuous small shop with a faded sign that said " Everything for Photography ", sandwiched between two branded ones. Anyone would have passed by without paying attention to it. Tommy, however, was immediately drawn in that direction. He looked at Wil and gave him a little nudge to get his attention.

“What is it?” asked the brunet, turning to his friend.

“Did you find something?”

"Yes. I think so. Shall we go?”

“I've been thinking… Maybe we could split up? It will be faster this way,” the boy said, trying not to look at his companion.

Wilbur thought for a moment, then looked at his watch and shrugged.

“If you want, we can do that. Let's meet here in... an hour. And then we go buy something that caught your eye.”

Having said that, the musician moved to the escalator. And suddenly the teenager realized the only drawback of his plan: the guy could get in the car at any moment and leave, as he had done before meeting Tommy. And if he decided to do so, the student would be left alone in a completely unfamiliar city with almost nothing to his name. Tommy couldn't let that happen; he needed guarantees. So he ran after the brunet and stopped him.

“Give me the car keys,” the blond said sharply, holding out his hand.

“Why? Do you need to pick something up from there? I can go-” Wil began, but the boy shook his head.

“If I take the keys, then you won't be able to leave without me. I won't get far myself either, since I don't have a driver's license with me.”

“Don't you trust me, Tommy Innit?"

"Don't blame me. We met literally 4 days ago. You kidnapped me and now you're leaving me alone in an unfamiliar place."

"I didn't kidnap anyone," Wilbur sighed, but reached into his pocket and, taking out the keys, put them in the teenager's palm, "Satisfied?"

"Yep! Well, that's it, you can get lost now!" the student exclaimed and rushed to the store that had attracted his attention earlier.

Tommy cautiously entered through the open door. Inside, as expected, there was no one except the saleswoman. She wasn't expecting customers either, so she looked at him in surprise. The blond greeted her quietly, nodding his head, and slowly moved to the stands where various cameras and accessories for photography were displayed.

Tommy was surprised to see the newest lens here, which made a pleasant impression on many photographers. Its price, of course, was unattainable, and the student didn’t have a suitable camera, but this did not prevent him from admiring this masterpiece of technological progress. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice how the saleswoman approached him.

"Anything got your attention?" she smiled.

"Yes. It's amazing that they managed to make such a lightweight and travel-friendly lens. In this case, the price is justified enough."

"And besides, it's a novelty. In a few months it will be sold much cheaper," the girl nodded, "It's nice to see someone interested in photography here, and not just gawking passers-by. Which cameras do you prefer? Digital? Mirrorless?"

"A devoted fan of instant cameras here. I just came here hoping to buy some film."

"Alright! What kind of camera do you have?"

"Instax Square SQ1," the teenager proudly declared.

"You never cease to amaze," the saleswoman said, kneeling at the boxes where the films were stored, "Instax? Usually, people tend to buy a Polaroid."

"Polaroid sucks. It's overrated. It is so demanding that it seems one gust of wind will break it. And why do you need a camera which will give you the result you can't predict? And the Polaroid takes forever to develop photos. Instax is much better and easier to work with."

"Some prefer Polaroid because of its vintage style."

"Well, such people are clearly wrong."

The girl laughed, closed the drawer, and stood up, holding several boxes of film in her hands. Tommy examined them carefully and nodded, after which both went to the cash register. The saleswoman quickly calculated the amount required for payment. The boy took out his wallet and suddenly realized that most of his money was hidden in the car. He sighed irritably.

"Is something wrong?" the girl asked.

"I'll take only two packs," the guy said sadly and, pushing the other two aside, put a few bills on the counter.

The saleswoman realized what was the reason for such an unexpected refusal, so after thinking for a few seconds, she took out her wallet from somewhere and put the missing money on the counter. Before Tommy could object, she took the money and put it in the cash register, then handed him a check and two boxes of film.

"Ay?" the blond exclaimed in surprise, "Why are you so generous all of a sudden?"

"I told you: it's nice to see a person who understands all this. Don't worry. Consider our conversation a payment."

The student looked at the girl, looking for a trick, but finding nothing, he put the wallet and the film into his bag. After that, he looked at the camera, feeling the desire to finally take a spontaneous photo. The guy took it out and looked at the girl.

It was darker in the store than in the corridor of the shopping center, soft music was playing in the background, which Tommy hadn't even paid attention to until that moment. The saleswoman was standing behind the counter surrounded by filming equipment and boxes of other goods. There was something fascinating about it, so the teenager timidly asked.

"Can I take a picture of you?"

She didn't expect such a question, but smiled and shrugged anyway.

"If you want to capture the moment, then don't hold back."

And after a few moments, the camera clicked. The photo soon turned was in the hands of the blond, and the face of the cute saleswoman remained on the film forever. After a few seconds, he handed it to the girl and hurried out, shouting quick words of gratitude.

Tommy was sitting on the bench, not far from where he and Wil had parted less than an hour ago. The boy dutifully waited for his friend, but after a few minutes, he got tired of sitting around. Suddenly he noticed a piano standing a little to the side. The teenager got up from his seat, looked around and, not finding Wilbur, went to the musical instrument.

The blond sat down, put his backpack on the floor, opened the piano, and pressed the keys. The piano produced a distinctive melody that seemed to resound throughout the mall. Seeing that no one was going to stop him, Tommy started playing one of the songs he knew. It was some simple melody that accidentally popped up in his head, but he was completely immersed in it. When the student looked away, to his surprise he found several people watching him play. Not far from the main group of spectators, he even managed to make out a couple of young people dancing happily. The boy smiled and continued to play with even more enthusiasm. Tommy wasn't a big fan of playing the piano or any other musical instrument, but he didn't take music classes for several years for nothing. He had to put his skills into practice at least once.

When the music stopped, the audience began to applaud him, and despite the fact that there were just over 10 of them, their applause was surprisingly loud. After that, most of them began to disperse, but a few people put some money on his piano for playing. Then the blond awkwardly nodded and collected his unexpected earnings. Of course, it was just pennies, but it was his pennies now. He was as good as Wilbur now.

As soon as the teenager thought about his companion, suddenly he appeared in his field of vision. The brunet smiled and patted Tommy on the shoulder.

"Not bad! Didn't know you could play."

"I don't do this very often. If it gave me more pleasure, you wouldn't have a chance against me. I would have become a famous musician, leaving you in the dust!”

Wil sighed and, grinning, patted the boy on the head.

"Come on, great musician . Great things are waiting for us." 

“Great things are always waiting for me," Tommy declared, picking up his backpack from the floor.

"Did you find anything interesting?"

The student suddenly remembered that he was supposed to look for some outerwear. He couldn’t tell the guy about his mistake directly (after all, he is Tommy Innit , and Tommy Innit does not make mistakes ever). So he just shook his head. Wilbur smiled.

"Well, good thing I found something! Come on, I think you'll like it!"

Tommy hesitantly walked into the store, to which Wilbur literally dragged him, and looked around. There were piles of clothes of various colors, styles, and sizes hanging around. The brunet, unlike his companion, walked confidently, knowing exactly what he wanted to find. The student barely managed to keep up with the guy before he disappeared behind rows of sweaters and sweatshirts.

This store, compared to that camera shop, was absolutely huge. There were several departments and way more sellers who walked between hangers and stands in the same uniform. However, it was easy to tell from their faces that the work did not give them joy.

The musician stopped abruptly at a row of a variety of jackets. He began to dig through them and soon with a triumphant exclamation took out one jean jacket. It was blue, like any other denim jacket, but inside he could find white faux fur. Waves under the night sky were depicted on the back. The teenager carefully picked it up and began to examine it carefully. After a few minutes, he put on a denim jacket over his red hoodie, went to the mirror, and looked at himself. The elder did not comment on what was happening in any way, but eventually, he asked uncertainly.

“You don’t like it? If you want, we can look for something else...”

Tommy shook his head and touched the white collar. The soft faux fur was light and pleasant to the touch, but at the same time, it remained warm. The blue color of the jean jacket itself went well with the rest of his clothes. The thing was beautiful. But the blond saw the price tag on it and knew perfectly well that he, unfortunately, could not afford it; not after buying those boxes of film.

As if somehow reading his thoughts, Wilbur declared.

“Listen, don't worry about the price. I'll pay for it.”

“Feeling generous?

“It’s mainly the fact that I want my coat back. If you have no complaints then let's go to the checkout.”

The student sighed and, slowly taking off the jacket, followed his companion.

“Who even wears a coat in April?” the boy asked, handing the jacket to the brunet.

“I do.”

“You're a pussy.”

”It's not my fault that I'm cold. Besides, you yourself wore it recently.”

“Well, I borrowed it from you! There is a difference?”

Wil sighed and handed the jacket to the saleswoman. She quickly scanned it, received the money, and was about to put the clothes in the bag, but Wilbur told her not to and, taking it, threw the denim jacket to Tommy. The teenager barely caught it, then tore off the price tag and put it on. He smiled meekly, doing everything so that his friend would not notice it.

Already at the exit, the boy suddenly froze in place. Wilbur looked at him blankly and took a few steps back into the store, but Tommy stopped the older one. The musician shrugged and remained standing not far from the door, while the teenager disappeared behind the hangers.

A few minutes passed. Wil, leaning on the wall, continued to stand near the entrance and look at the occasional people passing by. He was lost in his thoughts and did not pay attention to what was happening until suddenly something wrapped around his neck. The guy flinched and saw Tommy standing in front of him. The boy was smiling and laughing at him. The brunet put his hand on his neck and touched a soft blue scarf. His face showed surprise, which made the teenager laugh even louder.

"You look like you've never seen scarves before!"

"I-I just didn't expect it. Where did you even get this thing?"

"I bought it," the blond shrugged and stopped laughing.

"Why?"

"So that you whine less about the cold," the younger one said and after a short pause continued in a quieter voice, "Besides, you bought me a denim jacket. I wanted to return the favor. We are even now.”

"Hey, Toms, you shouldn't have… But thanks. I appreciate it.” 

Tommy blushed, "Let's go to the food court, I'm starving."

He pushed his companion slightly and hurried to the escalator. The musician laughed and followed him, adjusting his new scarf.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

“Have you ever been to a bowling alley?”

Tommy picked up another chicken nugget and looked expectantly at his companion.

Around them, everyone was talking, laughing, rattling appliances, and rustling packages. Sometimes a loud child's cry could be heard from somewhere, but even this sound was drowned in the noise of the shopping center. It was time for lunch, so the food court quickly filled up, despite the fact that there were still few customers left. Travelers had suspicions that in an hour an unexpectedly surging wave of people would be gone once again.

Meanwhile, Wilbur finished his hamburger and, wiping his lips with a napkin, answered the boy's question.

"Of course, I’ve been to a bowling alley. Who haven’t?"

"But have you been there at night?"

The brunet picked up a glass of orange juice and took a couple of sips from it, thinking, then frowned.

"No? They're all usually closed at night."

"So what?"

"What?"

"It's fun!” the blond declared and leaned back in his chair.

"It's also illegal," Wil countered.

"It's illegal to rob banks, this is just an interesting pastime!"

"Both are breaking-ins. And both are illegal."

"You know, for a person with the nickname 'dirty crime boy', you're not too keen on crimes," Tommy noted.

"I accidentally forgot to pay for the gum once ! And I was 14 ! Why has it suddenly become a stigma for life?"

Tommy chuckled.

"Wilbur, my friend, you need to be careful with those to whom you give such valuable information."

"Okay, gremlin," the musician said, getting up from his chair and taking his empty tray, "I won't tell you anything anymore."

Before the student had time to come to his senses, his friend headed for the exit, passing by those sitting at the tables. The teenager called out to him with displeasure, but he did not even turn around. So Tommy grabbed his own tray and hurried after the guy.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"They'll definitely find us..." Wilbur whispered, balancing on the toilet seat.

There was a hiss from the booth on the right.

"They'll find us if you don't shut up !" Tommy whispered loudly.

Wil sighed and continued searching for a comfortable position.

About half an hour ago, the public address system announced the closure of the shopping center for the night. But instead of going to the exit, the travelers went to the toilet. Tommy claimed he had a foolproof plan. The musician had his doubts, but every time he voiced them, the teenager ignored him.

And so the guys ended up in two empty booths, squatting.

Not the worst of the places that the brunet has ever been to, but also far from the best.

It was unusually quiet. Usually, there was not a single place in the mall where the loud voices of the crowd constantly moving through the halls and corridors did not reach. Right now, the outside was empty. The only people other than the travelers were probably the guards.

Wilbur didn't know how much time had passed, but he was beginning to drift off to sleep when some activity started in the next booth. Tommy jumped to his feet, stretched, gathered up some shopping bags, and went out. A moment later, water flowed from the tap. The boy must have splashed it on his face, then turned off the faucet and loudly opened the door to the stall where his friend was hiding.

The guy rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned. Suddenly, a spray of icy water flew into his face. He screamed, and all the drowsiness disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place. The boy laughed loudly, and the disgruntled brunet gave him the middle finger, but still got up and left the booth.

A few minutes later, the couple came out of the toilet and found themselves in empty corridors. The lights were turned on only in the main halls of the shopping center; shops and narrow aisles were plunged into darkness.

While Wilbur was looking around, Tommy rushed to the map, which stood a couple of meters away from them. The blond didn’t try to be quiet at all: his footsteps could probably be heard even on the first floor. The teenager was considering the plan of the building, but as soon as Wil approached him, the student touched his shoulder and rushed to the stopped escalator screaming, "too slow!"

So the chase began. The brunet went down - the blond was already running down the next escalator; the musician reached the first floor - his companion disappeared around the corner. As a result, the elder managed to catch up with the boy only when he stopped in front of a glass door leading to some room. Wilbur caught his breath and looked at the room in front of them. The door and the large window were covered with white roller blinds. Above them hung the sign "Lost and Found."

Tommy grinned and Wil sighed at the same time.

"What are you up to again?"

Without saying anything, the teenager just laughed frighteningly and put his hand on the door handle.

"Tommy, no!” the guy exclaimed, but the student turned to him, nodded, and started turning the handle, "Tommy, it’s gonna be closed. Who will leave the lost and found office open-"

The door clicked and opened without any resistance.

It seems that even Tommy himself was surprised that his idea was a success. But the confusion didn't last long, and the boy went inside. The musician followed him.

Meanwhile, the blond took out a flashlight from his backpack, which he put there many years ago, and lit up the room. There was a desk with some papers in the corner, a wooden bench was located opposite it, and the rest of the space was occupied by several rows of shelves. They were occupied by all sorts of things, from small children's toys to even a bicycle. Wil tried to dissuade his companion, but the younger one had already decided everything for himself. He moved to the back of the room.

Suddenly Tommy noticed a water pistol lying there. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and pointed it at his friend. The elder sighed once again.

"It's not yours. Put it where you got it."

"Oh, come on! Some kid must have left it here. It’s not a big deal! He's probably already forgotten about it. And it will lie here for another day or two and eventually will be thrown out anyway. I'm saving it!"

The brunet continued to look at his companion with displeasure.

"You can't forbid me," the teenager added.

"You're right," Tommy smiled, "but if we get into trouble because of you, then I won't try and save your ass."

"Deal!" the blond exclaimed and rushed to the door.

The musician also went out and carefully closed the door. He looked after the boy and wondered - where did this kid get so much energy? Even being hung with bags and a backpack, he was still ready to wind circles around the mall. Suddenly, Wil felt old.

While the brunet was thinking about it, his friend ran to a large fountain in the center of the hall and, untwisting several parts of the gun, quickly filled the toy with water. By the time he finished, Wilbur had come up to him. The guy immediately became the younger's target, and a large wet spot formed on his dark turtleneck.

There was silence, but Tommy hastened to interrupt it with a loud laugh. The musician looked at himself, then at the boy, and with a sharp movement snatched a water pistol from him, immediately pointing the toy at the teenager. He did not even have time to react, as the elder struck back. However, instead of “shooting” in the chest, he “shot” right in his face. Now it was Wil’s turn to laugh, as Tommy was shaking his head quickly to dry his soaked hair.

Without waiting for the student to dry out, the guy pulled the trigger a couple more times and emptied the container. As a result, not only did the younger's blond hair become wet, but also a hoodie with jeans as well. Having taken revenge, Wilbur threw the now empty toy to his companion and headed along one of the main halls of this shopping center.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

It was 3 am when the partners in crime finally got to the bowling alley. They managed to get inside without any difficulties, since, apparently, everything except the shops remained open. However, the guys did not complain - they didn’t care about security problems in some random shopping center.

“So what are you going to do here? It's all off,” Wilbur said, looking behind the reception desk.

Tommy didn't say anything and continued to stand at another counter with some kind of machine. A moment later there was a click, a light came on over one of the paths and small bulbs lit up along its edges. The names of both guys flashed on the screen. The bowling machine also came into action, and the boy exclaimed triumphantly.

“Voila!”

The brunet looked at the track in shock for about 10 seconds, after which he looked at his companion, who settled down on the sofa.

“How?”

The blond threw back his head and looked at his friend.

“Last summer I got a job at a bowling alley. Sometimes I stood at the counter, sometimes I was a waiter. And the older guys somehow managed to persuade the boss and he allowed us all to play several games for free at night while the room was empty. And one day one of those guys who knew how to handle this thing showed me how everything works.”

”And your parents let you go there at night?” the musician asked, sitting down on the sofa next to the teenager.

“Of course not, idiot. They would never let me do that. They thought I was visiting friends. 

The elder chuckled and nodded. The younger one impatiently got to his feet and, after stretching a little bit, took one ball.

“Is there a prize for the winner?” Tommy asked.

“If you want there to be one… But what kind of prize are we talking about?”

“Money?” the student smiled hopefully.

“I don't play for money with minors. How about one wish?”

“Why did you ask at all then?” the boy rolled his eyes and started the game.

The game ended with Tommy's victory, and of course, he did everything in his power to make sure the elder never forgot it. After ten minutes of ridicule and jokes, the teenager fell on the sofa.

“One more?” Wilbur asked.

“Do you want to give me another victory? How nice of you, Wil!” Tommy said sweetly.

“Well, I'm sorry, Mr. I-Worked-At-The-Bowling-Alley-All-Summer-And-Practiced-Almost-Every-Week,” the guy sighed.

“Maybe you should learn how to lose,” the boy declared, “But so be it, I'll give you another chance. And while I set up everything here... go get me some Coke.”

The brunet silently got up from the sofa and went to the exit, but stopped at the doorway and said.

“If anything goes south, shout mayday.”

"Sir yes sir. Now go,” the blond waved off and started setting up everything for a new game.

It took him a few minutes to finish the last session and start a new one. Suddenly there were slow footsteps outside the door, and Tommy stopped. He looked suspiciously at the entrance. The student had last seen the vending machine on the floor below - Wilbur couldn't walk to it so quickly, buy everything he needed and return.

Sensing danger, Tommy, without hesitation, squatted down and hid under the counter, next to which he had just been standing. The door opened, there was a click, and the light of a flashlight ran through the dim hall. This confirmed the teenager's theory, and he pressed himself even harder into the counter.

“Kid, I know you're in here. Come out now!”

Without receiving an answer, the man went inside. Noticing the lights on and the bowling alley running, he muttered something displeased and took a few more steps away from the entrance. After a few seconds, he walked past the counter where the boy was hiding and continued his search.

Tommy decided it was the perfect opportunity to escape. He quickly jumped out from under the counter and ran to the exit, simultaneously grabbing all the shopping bags and a backpack. The guard did not expect this, so he hesitated, but after a few seconds, he rushed after the blond.

Once in the hall, Tommy looked both ways and ran to the right, towards the escalators. Quickly descending, he turned around and, as expected, saw a disgruntled man in uniform. There was a distance between them, but the teenager knew that he should never have stopped. So he accelerated and shouted.

“Mayday!”

Wilbur, who was walking away from the vending machine at that moment, holding a couple of cans of Coke in his hands, heard his loud scream. Almost immediately, he saw Tommy rushing forward and running after him. A second later, another guard appeared out of nowhere, and now two disgruntled men were chasing them.

“What do we do?!” the boy asked in fright, jumping a few steps.

“Split up! Lose your tail. Meet me at the car,” the guy also said in panic and added, “Good luck!”

And with that, Wilbur disappeared into one of the many corridors. Tommy cursed and continued running in the other direction.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Wilbur had never had to run from the police, security guards, or any other law enforcement officers. Unlike many of his acquaintances, he was a surprisingly calm teenager: he didn’t steal, didn’t rebel, didn’t run away from home (well, he did, but only when the quarrels between his parents turned into something unbearable; and it barely counted because he always came back after a bit). And, all-in-all, he thought that as an adult and a law-abiding citizen, he would not have to run from anyone at all. But now, at the age of 22, he was rushing to the exit of the shopping center, and he was being chased by a very real and very unhappy security guard. And all because he listened to a stupid teenager.

His conclusion: do not trust teenagers. They're all idiots.

Wil didn't even want to imagine what his mom would say to that. It's a good thing she'll never find out about it.

The brunet ran down the corridor past the closed shops in search of a fire exit. The guy assumed that the main entrance was closed for the night, so the fire doors remained his only hope. Soon he managed to get to an unidentified door, and he abruptly opened it. However, instead of the street, the musician saw a staircase. Without wasting time thinking, Wilbur ran down. The guard's footsteps could still be heard behind him, and the man was clearly catching up to him.

Therefore, without hesitation, the guy jumped over the railing and missed the flight. He was amazed by his actions and abilities, but did not dwell on it and just ran on, making sure that both of his legs were intact.

When he reached the first floor, another door met him at the end of the stairs. Above it was a green sign that meant a fire exit. The guy pushed open the door, and the cold spring air hit him in the face. Wil looked around and realized that he was in a dark alley. Noticing the light of the lanterns, he ran to them and went out onto the road.

Having oriented himself on the terrain, the brunet ran on. It was only when he was on the other side that he dared to look back. The guard, out of breath from a long chase, stood in the alley, after which he sighed irritably and, discontentedly saying something into the walkie-talkie, returned to the shopping center.

After making sure that no one was chasing him, Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the car.

Only reaching the parking lot of some apartment building did the musician remember that he had given the keys to Tommy in the afternoon. Wil sighed irritably and, leaning on the car, began to wait. He sincerely hoped that the teenager had managed to escape and that he wouldn’t have to look for his keys at some police station.

The brunet took out his phone and looked at the time. It was almost 5 in the morning. And as soon as Wilbur thought that he wasn't really tired, the adrenaline stopped working, and the fatigue hit him with all its might. The guy sat down on the asphalt and closed his eyes.

After a while, a playful laugh was heard, and Wil instantly recognized it as Tommy's laugh. The elder sighed and, without getting up from his seat, looked at the source of the sound. And indeed, the laughing blond ran out from around the corner. Noticing his acquaintance, he was even more delighted and exclaimed happily, to which the musician only shushed him. The last thing they needed was to get dissatisfied locals’ attention.

The boy quickly plopped down next to his companion and tried to catch his breath.

“You took your sweet time, that’s for sure,” Wilbur remarked.

“Well… Not everyone has... such long legs… as you do,” the student said and could not contain his laughter once again, “It was fun!”

“It was dangerous,” the guy replied, taking out cans of coke and handing one of them to the person sitting next to him.

“It was dangerous... and fun!”

Wilbur looked at the younger's joyful face and grinned, but did not answer.

“And you also owe me a wish,” Tommy reminded him after taking a few sips.

“You asked me to go get you a can of Coke. I have now fulfilled your wish. Hope you enjoy.”

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"Where are we going now?" Tommy asked wearily, following Wilbur into a hotel.

"Wait a bit and you'll see for yourself," the brunet replied quietly and called the elevator.

There was a girl sitting at the counter, but since few people came here at night, she allowed herself a short break. Putting her arms on the table, she buried her face in them and dozed off.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. The guys went inside, leaving the girl alone in the hall. The boy watched as the musician confidently pressed the button with the highest number, after which the doors closed and the elevator began to rise. They rode in silence; both were too tired for any conversation. When only a few floors remained to their destination, the student sighed.

"It better be good."

The elevator stopped with a quiet ding and the doors opened once more. Wilbur held out his hand, pointing to the exit, and let the younger one go ahead.

"Why don't you go and see for yourself."

Tommy looked at the older one, shrugged, and left the elevator. At first, the teenager didn’t understand where he was, but as soon as he looked around, he immediately realized that he was on the observation deck. He instantly perked up and ran to the glass.

The whole city was under him.

The blond quickly took out his camera and took a bird's-eye photo, after which he hastily put everything in his backpack.

"Well?" Wil asked, approaching his friend.

"This is so cool!" the boy exclaimed admiringly, tightly gripping the railing that protected the glass, "You can see the whole city from up here! Even the mall! And the outskirts of the city as well!"

"Yeah," the brunet nodded and sat down on a bench in the middle of the observation deck, "The tallest building in the country after all."

"How do you even know about this place? Have you been here before?"

"No, I haven't. My... friend... told me when we were kids that he used to come here with his family. He said that the view from here was better than anywhere else," the musician grinned, "He totally wasn't lying."

"He must have been a good friend if he told you about this place," the teenager said, sitting down next to the guy.

Wil thought about it. He didn't know what to answer: their relationship left too many unanswered questions even 7 years after their last meeting. Were they even friends to begin with? Or were they just acquaintances?

Before Wilbur could fully spiral, he felt Tommy's head fall on his shoulder and close his eyes.

"Hey," the elder lightly pushed the companion on the shoulder, "Don't fall asleep on me. I can't drag you all the way to the car."

"Sounds like..." the student yawned, "your problem."

And the boy fell asleep without giving the brunet a chance to be indignant. Wil sighed and turned his gaze to the panorama where the sun was beginning to rise over the city.

After 20 minutes, Wilbur returned to the car, dragging a sleeping Tommy on his back. He put the teenager in the back, then climbed in there himself. Quickly closing the doors, the guy fell on the pillows and almost instantly fell asleep to the sounds of the waking city.

Chapter Text

“ Do the dance, do the dance

The way you move is a mystery ”

A song was playing on the radio, and Tommy was singing along to it, shaking his head. The teenager was sitting in the passenger seat next to Wil and looked at the scenery flying by. The warm wind blew in his face through the open window.

“ Do the dance, do the dance

You're always there for music and me ”

The car was driving along an empty road, and it seemed that there was no one around except the two of them. Only green fields and sparse trees.

The blond closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Suddenly the wind stopped blowing, the music stopped abruptly as well, and a moment later Wilbur's irritated sigh was heard from the side. The boy looked at him.

The brunet was sitting in suspense, staring into the distance and deep in thought. After a couple of seconds, he growled something angrily and hit the steering wheel, then threw his hands up.

“What is it?” Tommy asked.

“There's something… knocking under the hood… Or ringing maybe? I don't know. I only know that we won't get far like this.”

With these words, the musician opened the door and got out of the car. Tommy hurried after him. The guy walked around the car and, lifting the hood, began to look for the cause of the strange sound. Meanwhile, the blond looked around.

The end of the road was not visible in either direction. There was no sign of any settlement. And the boy suddenly realized that they were stuck in the middle of fucking fields where almost no one ever goes.

Trying to suppress the rising panic, he took out his phone from his pocket in hopes that they would be able to call for help. But, unfortunately, there was no signal here as well. Then the student approached Wil once more. Maybe it was nothing, and everything was actually fine with the car?

But as soon as he got closer to the open hood, he smelled the burnt rubber. It clearly wasn't anything good.

“How bad is it?” the younger one asked, and the brunet sighed.

“I'm not a mechanic, Tommy. I don't understand how bad it is.”

The teenager looked away, trying to come up with some solution for the current situation. After a few minutes, fearing heat stroke, he took off his jean jacket and decided to get back into the car. There was an air conditioner, and he could get the drinks they bought at the last stop at the gas station, and relax, leaving Wilbur to deal with the problems.

Tommy pulled the handle, knowing for sure that the door was still open when he left, but now it wouldn't budge. After pulling it a couple more times and not getting the expected result, the blond turned to Wil.

“Open the car,” the boy asked.

The brunet raised his head and looked at the guy in surprise.

“I didn't close it.”

“Don't know, it's closed now. Maybe you accidentally pressed the remote control in your pocket?”

The guy frowned but checked his friend's theory just in case. He patted all the pockets of his coat and suddenly froze. Before the teenager had time to ask anything, the elder hurriedly went to the window by the driver's seat and peered inside. The student wondered what exactly Wil was looking for, so he stood next to him and looked through the glass as well.

There, between the front seats, was the car key. Thinking about it now, Tommy remembered that before getting out of the car, the musician put the remote control on the control panel. Apparently, it somehow slipped and fell, pressing the door lock button.

“Congratulations, idiot,” the boy sighed and kicked the tire.

“Hey!” Wilbur exclaimed in response, “You're an idiot! You could have taken the keys!”

“Do I have to follow your every step to make sure you don’t mess up? Between the two of us, I'm the youngest here. I don't have to do any of this,” the teenager snorted and walked away from the car a few steps, “And now because of you we-”

The student abruptly stopped talking and looked in the direction from where they came. The other guy continued.

“Come on, say it,” he said, but Tommy, who was standing not too far from him, motioned for him to shut up.

There was silence, and somewhere in the distance, they heard the hum of an engine. The travelers exchanged glances. And after a couple of moments, a small truck slowly appeared on the road.

When Tommy saw it, he came out into the middle of the road and started jumping, waving his arms, and shouting. When the truck got closer, the driver noticed them and slowed down, stopping right in front of the broken car.

The window rolled down and the guys saw a short-haired young man driving. He waved at them and smiled.

“Ayup! Need help?”

“That would be nice,” Wilbur replied.

The pickup driver nodded, parked his car in front of the broken one, and got out. He immediately went to the raised hood and began to inspect it.

“I'm Jack, by the way,” the guy said, looking up from his activity for a second.

“Wilbur, and this is Tommy,” the brunet introduced them.

“Well, Wilbur, I think the generator is done for.”

“Generator? But... it can be repaired, right?” the boy asked nervously.

“It can be, but not here. You're lucky that there is a town not too far away from here. I have a workshop there, everything will be ready by tomorrow,” Jack said, wiping his hands on his pants, “I'll help you tow the car. Hop in.”

The guys exchanged glances again. The brunet laughed awkwardly.

“We have all the doors locked.”

Jack laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I would give you a ride, but the pickup is packed.”

The travelers looked at the pickup, and indeed, all the seats except the driver's were occupied either by flowers or bags of soil and fertilizers.

“But! There is a bus stop not far from here. A bus will arrive there soon, going straight to the place you need. I'll meet you there. Okay?”

Wilbur nodded. They had no other choice.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Walking along an empty road, the travelers finally reached the bus stop. Tommy hurried to hide in the shade of the awning and began to read everything that was written on the walls. There were also illegible inscriptions, probably left by other travelers, all kinds of announcements, and, of course, the schedule of local buses. Everything was rumpled, dirty, and dusty - it seemed as if no one had cleaned here for hundreds of years. Actually, maybe it was not an exaggeration.

After reading everything possible, the boy looked at the elder. Wilbur stood a few steps away from him and looked into the distance of the endless fields, thinking about something. Despite the fact that the day was very warm by spring standards, the brunet never took off his coat. Tommy wondered how he wasn’t burning alive in that thing.

About half an hour later, a rumble was heard and a bus stopped at the awning. It was in about the same condition as the stop: rusty, worn, and dirty in places. The bus rattled and buzzed terribly, and black clouds of smoke flew out of the exhaust pipe. The blond really hoped that this thing would not fall apart as soon as it starts moving.

Wil stepped inside and stood next to the driver to pay for the ticket. Tommy, meanwhile, went to take seats.

The bus was pretty empty, so the search for free seats wasn’t a problem. The teenager plopped down in a seat near a window at the back of the bus and waited for his companion.

Less than a minute later, the door creaked and closed, the bus moaned piteously, trembled, and moved from its place. The musician, holding on to the backs of the seats, moved through the bus and sat down next to the student.

The boy took out his phone and headphones, put one in his ear, and silently offered the other to the guy. He nodded and also put it in his ear, after which he continued to inspect the interior. Tommy quickly scrolled through one of the saved playlists and selected the first song he came across.

“ Spirit of my silence, I can hear you

But I’m afraid to be near you

And I don’t know where to begin

And I don’t know where to begin ”

The music slightly drowned out the rumble of the bus and the hum of the air conditioner. The younger one glanced at the other passengers. He wondered where they were all coming from and where they were going, what they were thinking, what they were planning. Someone was reading a book, someone was sleeping, someone was looking out the window.

“ Somewhere in the desert, there’s a forest

And an acre before us

But I don’t know where to begin

But I don’t know where to begin

Again, I've lost my strength completely, oh be near me

Tired, old mare with the wind in your hair ”

The teenager followed their example and turned his gaze to the landscape behind the glass. The bus raced past the same fields, and soon the observation of the unchanged view bored the blond. He was about to turn away when suddenly his attention was caught by cows that suddenly appeared outside the window. They grazed, ate grass, and basically did nothing unusual. But this simple picture reminded the student of that rural idyll, which was always painted on various food packages.

“ Amethyst and flowers on the table (On the table)

Is it real or a fable? (Is it real or a fable?)

Well, I suppose a friend is a friend

And we all know how this will end ”

The boy immediately went to share his admiration with his companion. He grabbed the guy sitting next to him by the hand and started shaking it with all his might. This instantly attracted the elder's attention, though he looked slightly irritated. But the latter, not paying attention to that, pointed to the field with cows.

“Look, look!” the blond exclaimed, barely restraining himself from shouting.

The brunet leaned closer to the window, and as soon as he saw the animals, his eyes opened in surprise. Tommy laughed at the musician's reaction, and Wilbur, trying to hide it, just smiled.

“Cool, I guess,” he remarked quietly and returned to his previous position.

“Yeah,” the younger chuckled. No matter how hard Wil tried to hide behind a mask of skepticism, the teenager saw that he still continued to look out the window with interest.

“ Chimney swift that finds me, be my keeper (Be my keeper)

Silhouette of the cedar (Silhouette of the cedar)

What is that song you sing for the dead?

What is that song you sing for the dead?

I see the signal searchlight strike me in the window of my room

Well, I got nothing to prove

Well, I got nothing to prove ”

Soon the cows disappeared from sight, and houses appeared on the horizon. Tommy had no doubt that their stop was getting closer.

After a couple of minutes, the bus creaked to a stop and tilted slightly to the side when passengers began to get out. Tommy hurriedly jumped the step and his landing on the dry ground raised a cloud of dust. The teenager coughed, and Wil, who followed him out, chuckled, but patted him on the back, pushing him forward at the same time.

The guys didn’t have time to look around when suddenly a girl with pink hair ran up to them and smiled.

"You must be Wilbur and Tommy?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer, held out her hand to the elder, "I'm Niki. Jack is dealing with your car, so he asked me to meet you."

"Thank you..." the brunet muttered a little stunned and, shaking the girl's hand, blushed a little. Now it was Tommy’s turn to chuckle, and the musician looked at him with displeasure.

After making sure that both travelers were ready to go, Niki pointed to the road, and the trio set off.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

They stepped into a warm house, where everything was yellow due to the golden hour. Niki hurriedly closed the door behind her and hurried into the kitchen, the guests followed her.

Meanwhile, the girl took out a bowl of dough from somewhere and began to spread it into a mold nearby.

"Don't be shy," she said, briefly shifting her gaze to the guys in the doorway, "There's a spare room on the second floor on the right, so you can go settle in."

Tommy didn't need to be asked twice. He immediately took off and ran up the stairs. His footsteps resounded loudly throughout the house. 

Once in the room, the boy immediately noticed a large double bed. It was covered with an old patchwork bedspread and colorful pillows that no one seemed to have touched for many decades. But the student was not going to complain - he had been sleeping in the back seats of the car for several days. And sure, Wilbur had pillows and blankets there, but nothing could compare to a real bed.

Tommy sighed and jumped with a running start. The bed creaked, and for a moment the teenager thought that it was going to fall apart, unable to withstand such a load, but everything worked out and he stretched out in the middle of a bright, albeit faded bedspread.

After lying there for a couple of seconds, Tommy turned his head and looked out the window. The surprisingly hot sun, which shone just an hour ago, was now getting obscured by thick clouds. They were incredibly lucky to find a place to stay overnight, in case it suddenly rains.

The door opened, interrupting the fleeting thought of the blond, and Wilbur appeared in the room with clean bed linen in his hands. The elder stopped by the bed, looked at the younger, sighed and light-heartedly pushed his companion. Tommy groaned and reluctantly rolled onto one side of the bed. Wil dropped the clean laundry next to the boy.

"We have to change the sheets."

"Okay," the teenager muttered into the pillow.

"To do this, I need you to get up," the brunet added, putting his hands on his hips.

"I don't want to."

"Tommy..." the guy sighed slightly irritably.

"I'm lying on the bed for the first time in a week, let me do this in peace."

"And you're going to sleep on old sheets and pillows that some strangers slept on before you?"

"Don't care," Tommy said and, grabbing one corner of the bedspread, wrapped himself in it and closed his eyes, "Good night."

"It's literally 4 o'clock..." the musician remarked.

"Good night, Wilbur!" the blond said even louder.

Wil stood still for a few seconds, after which the boy heard a soft amused laugh and the elder headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, as if considering what to say, but eventually left the room in silence.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

When Tommy woke up, it was dark and gray outside. At first, the boy even decided that it was late at night, but when he reached for the clock on the bedside table, he saw that in fact, the evening was just starting.

The blond rubbed his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. He got up slowly and found himself at the window. 

Behind the glass, the sky was now completely covered with heavy clouds. If the sun was setting, it was not visible. Not a single ray broke through the dark curtain.

The guy opened the window. Fresh air rushed into the room through the gap, swaying the light white curtains. Leaving the window open, the student turned his back to it, enjoying the way the wind blew at him from behind. 

His eyes ran through the dark room, lit only by the light from somewhere in the corridor because of the slightly open door, and stopped at the stack of clean sheets that Wilbur had brought earlier. It was still lying on the bed, untouched. Tommy looked at it for a few minutes, then sighed loudly and reluctantly began to change the sheet.

When the bed was finally made, the teenager took the dirty laundry and went out into the corridor. Since there was no laundry basket in the room, the blonde headed to the bathroom, hoping to find one there at least. He was lucky, so without hesitation, he threw the sheet and pillowcases there, thereby clogging the basket to the top.

Now that the job was done, the boy decided to go in search of his companion. From the moment Tommy woke up, he hadn't heard either Wilbur or Niki.… The student immediately shook his head: there was nothing to worry about just yet. 

He carefully went down the stairs and looked into the living room. There, on the sofa, with only one lamp lit, was Niki, sitting and reading something. Wilbur was nowhere to be seen. The teenager took a step towards the girl, the floor creaked under him, and the hostess, looking up from the book, turned to the door.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting-” the blond began, but Niki smiled and, putting a bookmark between the pages, put the book on the bedside table.

“It's okay. I just lost track of time.”

The guest chuckled and, once again circling the room with his eyes, looked out into the corridor. Of course, the brunet was not there. The girl, noticing some confusion of the blond, quickly guessed what was the matter and waved her hand.

“Are you looking for Wilbur? He said you decided to take a nap. So when he went for a walk, he decided not to wake you up.”

“And where did he go?” Niki shrugged her shoulders.

“I don't know. But I asked him to go to one of my friends, if possible. Maybe he is there.”

Tommy nodded and after a quick thought decided to go see if the girl was correct.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Niki gave Tommy the address of her friend surprisingly easily, given the fact that she had known Tommy for less than a day. However, it was not important to the boy - it greatly facilitated the search of the musician.

During the time that he slept, it got much colder outside. The sun completely disappeared behind black clouds, and it got unusually dark outside - the complete absence of lanterns or any other street lighting didn’t help in the slightest; the only exception was the light in the windows.

If there were few people during the day in good weather, now, in such dank weather the student could hardly meet anyone. Bypassing large puddles, he mentally scolded Wil for having decided to go out somewhere at all (without even telling his companion anything!).

Soon, following the direction that Niki gave him, Tommy went beyond the boundaries of a small town. The stone road gradually turned into a muddy path, which consisted of two parallel lines, clearly left by a car that often passed there. The boy tried to walk on the rolled-up places, but the ground turned into liquid mud after the rain, and as soon as he took a few steps on it, his sneakers and jeans were immediately stained. Cringing from the feeling, the blond moved to a strip of grass, which he immediately regretted, because in a matter of seconds, his already dirty sneakers became wet as well. Tommy stopped, looked down at his feet, looked at them for a couple more seconds, and, taking a deep breath, walked on, resigned to his situation.

He would have to express all his displeasure to Wilbur as soon as he sees the guy. For now, all he could do was focus on something positive.

The sky didn't get any lighter over time, and the student only hoped that the rain wouldn't start before he found Wil and they returned to Niki together. There was nothing interesting left around at all: no houses, no cars, no signs. Even the last fork he encountered was left far behind. Now the teenager continued to walk along a straight road passing through a boring field.

He closed his eyes, wishing he had brought a phone with headphones. The silence was getting a little unnerving.

And when the boy had already begun to think about why anyone would live at such a distance away from a small village, he found himself in front of a large wrought-iron gate. Quickly checking the address with the address on the sign on the fence, Tommy slipped inside.

Unlike the boring field, he was greeted by a large garden with neat bushes, massive trees, and lots of paths. After overcoming several turns, the blond came to a three-story house that looked like it had been transported here from some old, old story or fairytale. It was built of light brick, although for the most part, it was hidden behind a thick layer of ivy. Inside, in one of the rooms, the light was on, so the teenager decided not to waste any more time, hurriedly climbed the stairs to the porch, and rang the bell.

There was movement and muffled voices behind the door. After a couple of minutes, the door opened and Tommy saw a woman with incredibly fluffy and curly hair. She looked at him, and in her eyes, the boy saw a flash of recognition, which was strange, because he himself was sure that he had never met the woman before.

"You must be Tommy!" she exclaimed joyfully and, taking the teenager by the hand, literally dragged him inside.

The door slammed behind him, and he found himself in a spacious corridor. The floor was covered with carpet, so the blond hurriedly took off his wet shoes so as not to dirty it. The walls were painted dark green and against their background, a tall potted plant became almost invisible. At the very end of the corridor was a massive staircase made of dark wood.

While Tommy was looking around, the stranger was waiting patiently at the entrance to one of the many rooms. Noticing this, the guy met her gaze and smiled awkwardly.

"How do you know me?"

"Wilbur," the woman quickly looked behind her and turned back to the guest, "told me that he was traveling with you. Besides, I've never seen you here; it wasn't hard to guess. I'm Puffy."

The hostess - Puffy - held out her hand to him, and he shook it. She stepped back from the door and motioned for him to go inside. The teenager nodded and stepped into the cozy living room. There at the table, with a cup in his hands and the remains of a pie on a plate, sat Wilbur.

"Oh, Tommy. What are you doing here?" the elder asked in surprise.

The boy looked around the room and fell into a chair opposite Wil.

"Niki said you'd be here. She was looking for you," yes, the girl was in fact not looking for the brunet, and it was Tommy's idea to go on a search. However, the elder did not need to know that.

"Oh," the musician took out his phone and looked at the time, "It's getting late. Give me a second, I'll finish it, and we’ll go."

Tommy got up from his seat and began to walk around the room. There were much more plants here, they were almost at every step: pots stood against the walls, were located on window sills, and hung from the ceiling. The variety was also amazing. In addition to the plants in the room, various figurines were on display, probably bought during travels, and photographs, most of which were taken on a farm.

The blond stopped at the photo, which depicted the hostess of the house. She was standing in a huge field where rows of lavender bushes were planted, and behind her was a large windmill. A small bunch of purple flowers was fixed directly above the frame. Standing nearby, the teenager could smell it, and imagine himself being there, in that field.

He heard footsteps, and the student saw that Puffy was back in the room. She took the empty plate and cup from Wilbur and was about to leave, but noticed that the guest's attention was attracted by the photo, and smiled as she came closer. Wilbur joined them in silence.

"Do you grow lavender?" Tommy asked.

"Last year, yes. I planted tulips this season. They're about to bloom. It's just a pity that they will wilt quickly."

"You could plant something else when that happens," Wil shrugged, and Puffy laughed.

"That's what I plan to do, actually. I just don't know what exactly to plant."

"Sunflowers," the younger one offered without thinking.

"Sunflowers?" the woman asked again.

"Sunflowers. They are bright, and tall. And when they bloom, you'll have a lot of seeds."

Puffy smiled, "An interesting idea… I'll think about it."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

After leaving the house, Wilbur looked up at the sky.

"It's going to rain again soon. We should hurry up."

Instead of immediately following the road that Tommy came by, the travelers took a narrow path through the garden. The heavy rain obviously did the plants some good, but the student couldn’t help but wish that the clouds would dissipate at least a little bit.

Wilbur stopped at the thick bushes that grew on the left side of the house and bent down. The blond had to look closely to see an old bicycle hidden in the thicket. After dealing with the lock, Wil tried to roll the bike out onto the track, but it caught on branches and leaves.

After waiting a few seconds and seeing that his companion was not making any progress in getting the bike out, Tommy left the guy to deal with the problem alone and moved to the border of the site. When he reached the clean white, newly painted fence, the teenager leaned on it and looked at the area around him. It took him a few moments to realize that right in front of him was the same field from the photo in Puffy's house. The windmill seemed smaller than in the photo, but otherwise, it was recognizable. In front of it, just as the woman had said, the tulips were waving in the wind. There were red, yellow, and pink flowers among them.

The boy looked around and, making sure that Wilbur was still busy getting the bike out of the bushes, hurriedly climbed over the fence and ran into the field. Once among the sea of color, the blond immediately took out his camera. No longer worried about his appearance, Tommy squatted down and pointed the lens at the windmill. The teenager wrinkled his nose when he saw the dark grayness of the sky and the lack of good lighting, but he couldn’t help but capture this place. With a click, the photo was in his hands. It wasn't his best work, but it wasn't his worst either.

Before the boy could put the photo in his pocket, Wilbur snatched it out of his hands.

"What have you got there?" the elder chuckled.

Tommy screamed, either from surprise or from fear that someone would see his photo, and tried to take it back before the brunet had a chance to look at it. However, the musician smiled and held the photo high above his head.

"Oh, Tommy, are you embarrassed?" he wanted to say something else, but all the words left him the moment he saw the photo. The guy lowered it to examine every small detail, which Tommy took advantage of, quickly snatching the photo and stuffing it into his pocket.

"Tommy..."

"What?" 

"Listen, I've seen you take pictures a lot… But I didn't even think you were that good at it."

"Oh, just don't flatter me. Nothing special, just photos. Everyone can do that."

"Everyone?" Wilbur chuckled, "You should have seen my futile attempts! I may not know much about photography, but trust me, you clearly have talent."

The student abruptly turned away so that his companion would not see how red his cheeks were. No one had ever said that to him. Sure, Tubbo often praised his work, but never mentioned him having some special talent…

Before the blond could answer Wilbur, a drop of water fell on his nose. He raised his free hand and felt a few more drops fall on it. The teenager turned to the brunet, who also noticed that the rain was starting anew.

"Do you have an umbrella?" Tommy asked.

"Do you see me holding one?" the elder exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

Wil got on the bike, which was lying a few steps away from him. Tommy jumped into the small back seat and grabbed the musician. After making sure that the boy wouldn't fall in the first few seconds, Wilbur pushed off and began pedaling as fast as possible.

Puffy's house had not yet disappeared from sight when the rain began in full force. It wasn’t just Tommy's shoes that were wet now. The blond's ass could barely stand the ride on an uncomfortable metal seat, and the stones that were on the road only aggravated the situation.

After a couple of minutes, the town appeared, and with it appeared a very steep descent. When the student saw it, he grabbed his companion even harder and (though he will never admit it) started to beg Wil to slow down. But Wilbur, ignoring his desperate pleas, only accelerated, and they flew down the mountain. Tommy's screams and Wil's laughter echoed throughout the small town.

The brunet slowed down only at the foot of the hill, without ceasing to laugh. Feeling that he was safe, the blond opened his eyes, inhaled and exhaled several times, and hit the guy on the arm with all his might. From the impact, the musician almost lost control of the bike.

"What are you doing?" the elder asked, continuing to laugh.

"You almost killed us!"

"Don't be dramatic."

Instead of answering, the boy wrapped his arms around Wilbur's neck and began to squeeze. He screamed and tried to brush Tommy's palms away with one hand but to no avail.

"That's what you get!" the teenager laughed aggressively, "I'll kill you, you bitch!"

Suddenly, Wil clamped the brakes and did a drift, thereby throwing the boy out of the back seat. The musician smiled slightly and, standing up, looked at his companion.

"I win," he said and put the bike against the wall of Niki's house. Tommy didn't even notice how they got here.

Still lying in the mud and rainwater, the teenager looked at Wil with a look full of betrayal but made no attempt to get up. The guy sighed and, coming closer, extended his hand to him. He thought for a few seconds and sprayed dirt at Wilbur.

"I win," Tommy said with a satisfied smile and got up from the ground.

Chapter Text

“Wilbur, please stay for a few minutes,” a young English teacher said without looking up from her notes. The teenager whose name she mentioned sighed softly and stopped in place while his friends (whose names completely disappeared from his memory only a few years later) overtook him and went home.

When the classroom was empty, the brunet ran his hand through his hair and, turning to the woman, stood in front of her desk. She looked up at him and nodded at the desk closest to the board. The boy sat down, putting his backpack on the chair next to him.

"Am I in trouble, Miss Nelson?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"No, at least not yet," the teacher smiled, pushing her notebook aside, "I just wanted to ask you about your progress on the essay I gave you."

Ah, of course. The Essay. The one he hasn't even started yet. Wil exhaled.

"Nothing to tell you about just yet, I'm afraid."

"Do you have any difficulties writing it?"

"Something like that… To be honest, I don't even know where to start," the student spread his hands, leaning back, "Greek mythology is so confusing, I haven't been able to decide who I want to write about for weeks."

Miss Nelson laughed.

"Well, maybe I know a way to solve this problem."

"Will you help me?" the teenager was surprised.

"Well, not really. If I were to help you personally, it would be unfair to your classmates. However, I know someone who can help you," the woman was silent for a few moments, but realizing that Wilbur was waiting for an explanation, she continued, "Do you know Tecnoblade Kingsley?"

"I heard about him, why?" the brunet frowned; he did not like where this conversation was going.

"He knows the whole Greek mythology inside and out! He even corrected me several times. You can't find a better assistant on this topic," the teacher noticed a slight discontent on her student's face, "I'm not saying that you have to go to him for advice. It's merely a suggestion. Nothing else. This is your essay, after all, and you have a lot of time to decide whether you're going to write it alone or with someone."

"I get it. Thank you. Can I go now?"

“Yes, Wilbur, you're free to go. Just don't put off the essay until the deadline."

Wil nodded quickly, grabbed his backpack, and left the classroom, closing the door behind him. Once in the empty corridor, he sighed irritably and threw his head back.

Technoblade Kingsley. This guy managed to become famous throughout the school, while not making a single acquaintance. He was alone everywhere he went, and this kind of attitude seemed to suit him quite well. People here were divided into three categories: those who were afraid of him; those who mocked him; and those who didn't care about him. Wil always considered himself to be in the latter group, but at the same time, he never sought to get to know his peer better. Those who decided to make friends with Technoblade quickly gave up because of the guy's absolute unwillingness to communicate. The teenager had built thick walls around himself, and no one was going to waste time trying to get inside.

And now Miss Nelson was asking Wilbur to ask for his help.

The brunet shook his head. No, this advice was not going to work for him. Moreover, why was he struggling at all? Wil could handle this stupid Greek mythology on his own just fine.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

He couldn't handle it on his own.

The boy came to this conclusion while sitting in front of several books at one in the morning.

However, he still wasn't sure about the Techblade guy. Therefore, the student spent the whole next day thinking about his problem. He desperately tried to think of any other way out, but nothing came to his mind.

When the lunch break came, Wilbur went into the cafeteria with his friends. The whole group bought lunch and headed to one of the vacant tables. Following them, the brunet noticed a teenager out of the corner of his eye, about whom he didn’t stop thinking. Technoblade sat alone and ate slowly, holding the phone in his hands.

Wil swallowed and walked towards him with confident steps, ignoring the questions and surprise of his friends. He quickly found himself at an almost empty table and began to stare at the guy persistently. The latter did not pay any attention to him for several minutes, but soon a new arrival began to annoy him, so he sighed softly and turned his gaze to Wilbur.

At that moment, Wil understood why some students found Technoblade intimidating. His coal-black eyes looked straight into the teenager's soul, causing a shiver.

But at the same moment, Wilbur decided that he would be stronger. He wouldn't run away like the others did. He would get a conversation with the strangest person in the whole school and get him to help with the essay.

Technoblade stared at the brunet through his glasses for a few more seconds, then turned his gaze back to the phone as if nothing had happened. Despite his lack of reaction, Wil sat down across from him and began to eat his lunch. He noticed that the loner glanced at him from time to time, but didn’t say anything.

A few minutes later, Technoblade finished his meal, took the tray, and left without saying a word.

The brunet was sure that he was at least a little interested in him. It was the first victory.

Wilbur didn’t stop there. Every day he took lunch and confidently sat down at Technoblade’s table as if he had done it many times before. The teenager opposite him never spoke and generally did not show any reaction to his presence. Despite this, Wil noticed that over time, the hasty glances became longer and longer.

By the end of the week, Wilbur decided to try something new. He started a conversation. He didn't need an answer from a loner with glasses, he didn't even need to be listened to. It's just that the constant silence has become too stressful for the brunet.

A week has passed since the musician first sat down at Technoblade’s table. A week passed, and Kingsley's impenetrable walls finally cracked.

Wil, as usual, was sharing another story from his life when the brunet opposite him raised his black eyes to the speaker.

"What do you want from me?"

The teenager fell silent, not expecting Techoblade ever to notice him. After a few moments, he came to his senses and smiled.

"What, couldn't I just decide to be friends with you?"

"You haven't been paying attention to me for several years. You have a group of friends. And then you suddenly decided to change your attitude? No, Soot, we both know that's not true. So stop beating around the bush. Spit it out," the guy in glasses said monotonously, without taking his eyes off the interlocutor.

Wilbur sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I need your help, Techn-"

"Kingsley."

"Excuse me?" the musician was taken aback.

"It’s Kingsley to you, Soot. Only friends can call me by my name."

Wilbur thought that the teenager was joking, but his face remained neutral and serious. Then the brunet sighed and continued.

"Okay, I need your help, Kingsley ."

Techblade smiled a little, but it happened so fast that no one would ever notice.

"And how can I help one of the most popular people in school?"

The musician grinned. One of the most popular people at school. He clearly didn’t consider himself such.

"I need to write an essay about some heroes of Greek mythology. But I don’t know who to choose or where to start. Miss Nelson directed me to you."

"Fool," the loner whispered, grinning.

Wilbur heard this statement but chose to ignore it.

"What do I get from that?"

"Well... what could you possibly need?" asked Wil.

"I heard you're good at geography," the brunet just nodded, "I have a test on flags soon."

The teenager's brown eyes lit up sharply. If geography was one of his favorite subjects, then flags were his specialty.

"I'm ready to help you! Well, deal?" the musician stretched out his palm forward.

Technoblade thought for a second and shook hands.

"Deal."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

“Come in... make yourself at home,” Wilbur said without hesitation, pushing the front door open and letting the guest inside.

Technoblade didn't say anything back, just nodded and, carefully wiping his feet at the entrance, began to take off his coat and boots. Wil also undressed and helped him hang everything on the hanger. The teenager instinctively wanted to take the new acquaintance by the hand, but stopped in time and just showed him towards the stairs.

Techno managed to get to the middle of the stairs, and his companion was still at the very base of the stairs when a woman with black hair pulled back in a ponytail and green eyes appeared from the living room, which they passed by. First, her gaze fell on Wilbur, and then on his companion. She smiled amiably.

“Hi, Wil. And...”

“This is Technoblade Kingsley. He agreed to help me with my English essay. We won't make any noise, I promise,” her son quickly replied, and the brunet behind him nodded silently and awkwardly looked away.

“Do what you want!” the woman laughed, “Dinner will be ready soon, I'll call you.”

“Okay. Shall we go?” Wilbur asked slowly, “The essay won't write itself...”

“Go, I won't make you wait any longer.”

The woman disappeared into the living room again, and the boys went up to the second floor. They soon found themselves in a small but cozy room with warm yellow walls. There was a bed with a blue coverlet, several cabinets and shelves, and a desk with an unremarkable guitar lying next to it. Techno stood awkwardly in the center of the room on the fluffy carpet and looked around while Wilbur quietly closed the door.

“Sit wherever you feel comfortable,” the musician shrugged and settled down at the table, laying out the necessary notebooks and books.

His guest found an empty chair standing in the corner of the room and, dragging it to the table, sat down as well.

“Well... where should we start?” Wil asked, looking at his acquaintance.

“We need to decide who you would like to write about.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” the musician rolled his eyes, and the teenager with glasses sighed.

“You asked me.”

“I thought you would give me a more interesting answer.”

”This is a logical first step.“

”Okay, let's say it is. But how do I decide who to write about?“

"Well… You can write about some very famous myth and not really bother. But if you want to write something really interesting, then choose something that is close to you.”

Wilbur thought about it and leaned back. What should he write about? The boy rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling. Maybe a myth about a family? But, as far as the teenager remembered, all the Greek myths on this topic were surprisingly strange and incomprehensible. Then maybe he could write about someone related to music? Music was always close to Wil, so this topic seemed appropriate.

For a while, he sat and thought alone, but soon Technoblade joined him. He didn’t know the character and hobbies of his new acquaintance well, so he offered him those myths that he himself found interesting. As a result, the discussion turned into a debate about the strangeness of certain favorite myths of Techno.

The boys didn't even notice how an hour had passed. The stairs creaked, and a second later the door opened, and Wilbur's mom peered inside.

“Lunch is ready, come down.”

Wil got up and headed for the door, Techno following him. The teenagers went down to the first floor and went into the living room. As the guest expected, the living room was connected to the kitchen. The table was already set, and at the head sat a man who looked very much like Wilbur, so Technoblade assumed that it was the father of his new acquaintance.

The youngest of the Soot family pushed back his chair and showed that the boy with glasses could take this place, as he sat down to his right. The man put the phone aside and looked at the guest.

“Hello, young man. You must be a Technoblade,” the teenager shuddered slightly at the fact that a stranger used only his name, but didn’t say anything, only nodded, “An interesting name… Quite unique, I would say. Wil has never mentioned you before.”

“We just met recently, Dad.

“Ah, got it,” the man smiled.

“Well, stop interrogating the poor child. Let them eat in peace, they still have things to do,” Mrs. Soot interjected into the conversation, putting down plates of food and sitting down at the table.

Mr. Soot laughed awkwardly.

“Can't I talk to my son and his new friend for at least a couple of minutes?”

“When they are not busy, then go ahead. But not now.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“I am sure that nothing terrible will happen if the boys spend an extra couple of minutes in my company. Don't you think?”

“Oh, don't start this,” the woman said irritably.

“No, answer my question.”

“Do you really want to talk about this in front of the kids?

”They're not babies.“

”We have guests, in case you haven't noticed,“ Mrs. Soot raised her voice and turned to her husband with a displeased expression on her face.

Their son bowed his head, trying to ignore what was already inevitable. Meanwhile, Technoblade was looking at the arrangement of the living room.

“Well, it wasn't me who started it!” Mr. Soot exclaimed with displeasure.

Wilbur abruptly got up from the table, not looking up at his parents. It seemed to him that his cheeks were red with shame. He took a quick glance at his acquaintance.

“We'll go to my room if that’s okay.”

After that, without explaining anything, he walked past Techno and, lightly touching his shoulder, left the room. The brunet with glasses hurried to follow the musician. Soon they were both in Wil's room. When Technoblade entered, the owner of the bedroom was already lying on the bed and looking at the ceiling. The guest carefully closed the door and sat down at the table.

Even on the second floor with the door closed, the teenagers could still hear the argument coming from the living room. Wilbur grabbed the first pillow he saw, covered his face with it, and groaned. After that, he seemed to remember about Techno and, removing the pillow, looked at the brunet with glasses.

“I'm sorry. I was hoping it wouldn't happen, but...”

“Does this happen often?” Techno asked uncertainly.

“Well... more often than I would like,” the musician laughed bitterly.

The boy sitting on the chair looked at his watch.

“If you want, we could go to my place. There is still time. Plus I have a lot more books about Greek mythology than you do.”

“Are you sure?” Wil sat down, clutching a pillow to his chest.

“Well, yeah, why not.” 

“Come on, then,” Wilbur nodded and, getting to his feet, began to put the notebooks back into his backpack.

A few minutes later, he gathered everything he needed, and both went down to the first floor. The conflict was still going, so when the youngest of the Soot family said where he was going, his parents didn’t hear him. The teenager sighed and went outside. Deep down, he was glad that he wouldn't have to spend the evening at home.

When Wilbur entered Techno's house, he didn’t see what he expected. There were many photos of Technoblade and his family on the walls, as well as awards and medals for winning various contests and competitions. In every room, songs could be heard playing on the radio at full volume. When Wil imagined Techno's mom in his head, he didn’t think she would be a woman with bright turquoise hair braided in a long braid to the waist. Even less did he expect her to hug her son tightly as soon as she saw him, despite his protests.

When the woman paid attention to the guest, she smiled brightly, and Wilbur immediately felt at home. Technoblade quickly introduced him and said that they needed to study, but Mom did not listen to him. Instead, she dragged them into the kitchen, put the kettle on the stove, and took out a freshly baked pie.

“Technoblade Kingsley, you don't know how to receive guests at all! Do I really need to teach you the basics of hospitality?” the woman asked playfully and went into the next room for cups and plates.

Wilbur, meanwhile, continued to look at the photographs on the walls. There were not just Mrs. Kingsley and her son, but Techno's father as well. Curiosity got the better of him and he gently tugged the sleeve of the boy next to him.

“I'm sorry to ask such a question, but... where is your father?” the teenager asked, but suddenly realized how tactless the question was and exclaimed, “If you don't want to answer, then you don’t have to!”

“No, it's okay. Dad just often goes on trips for work,” the brunet with glasses shrugged and grinned, noticing how his friend sighed with relief.

The woman soon returned, holding colorful dishes in her hands, and put them on the table. She picked up the teapot and started pouring tea. Wil carefully took a small piece of the pie and took a bite. After a second, he moaned with pleasure and smiled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kingsley! It's so delicious!”

“Thank you, Wilbur. And please, just call me Luna.”

The teenager smiled awkwardly and nodded. Technoblade looked at the guest for a few moments, then turned his gaze to his mother.

"Can we step out for a minute?"

The woman looked at her son uncomprehendingly at first, but soon shrugged and grinned. Both left the kitchen, leaving the musician alone.

And left alone with himself, Wilbur plunged into thought. Here, at Techno’s place, there was more comfort, love and care than there was at his house for the past few years. There were no shouting and arguments, or awkward attempts to show themselves in the best light. Everything was real here.

Wil wanted his parents to be this way.

The boy didn’t even notice how his friend returned to the kitchen, holding a large stack of heavy and thick books in his hands, and closed the door with his foot. Technoblade barely kept the topmost of them from falling with his chin. He walked over to the table and dropped the pile on the table with a loud bang. Wilbur was surprised that the wood didn’t break under such a mass. When the books were put down, Techno sat down on a chair next to the guest and, taking a book from the top, handed it to Will. The musician looked at everything that the brunet with glasses had brought; one book told about all the gods, others about individual heroes of Greek mythology. The one in Wilbur's hands contained information about mythical creatures. The teenager sighed. How could anyone figure out this boring mythology on their own?

A few hours later, Wil wanted to take back his words: Greek mythology is fascinating if you find the right approach. In his case, the approach turned out to be Technoblade Kingsley. It seemed that the brunet with glasses could talk about it all endlessly. And the way he was saying all this amazed the musician. Techno was much more emotional and much more open when talking about Theseus, Achilles, and Icarus.

The teenagers were so passionate about their task that they didn’t notice how it got dark outside. They were forced to stop when Technoblade's mom came into the kitchen and pointed out the late time. Both sighed in disappointment but obeyed nonetheless. It didn't take Wilbur long to pack his things, so soon he was standing awkwardly at the door, not knowing what to do. After a few moments, Luna literally pushed her son out into the corridor, despite his protests, and began cleaning. Technoblade rolled his eyes but approached his acquaintance.

"Mom said to see you off..." the boy began, but Wil waved his hand.

"It's not necessary!” 

Techno looked at him and shrugged, then opened the front door and pointed it out to the guest.

"I told her just that. I'm glad you agree with me on this."

Wilbur was surprised. He hoped that Techno would insist on seeing him off, but it didn't happen. The musician smiled awkwardly and went outside. Both stood in silence for a few seconds, not knowing what to say, until eventually, Wil broke the silence.

"Well, I'll go then? It was a pleasure to work together… See you later?"

"Yeah," Kingsley nodded quickly, and before Soot could wave goodbye to him, the teenager closed the door, leaving Wilbur alone.

The brunet sighed, lowered his hand, and turned around. He shook his head. Technoblade Kingsley was indeed a strange strange guy. But now Wilbur intended to get to know him better, no matter what.

Suddenly, something cold fell on the teenager's nose. He looked up at the sky and saw that snow was flying from above. The first snow this year. The boy smiled and, jumping off the porch, rushed towards his house. He ran, laughing loudly, and felt that somehow his life was changing dramatically right before his eyes.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Wilbur had a new routine. Every day he was looking forward to seeing his new friend. They had lunch together, the two of them went home and studied geography or wrote an essay until the evening. Wil liked these changes, and even though Techno periodically expressed his dissatisfaction, the brunet knew that his peer also liked it deep down.

It wasn’t difficult for the others to notice the unexpected new acquaintanceship of two completely opposite students. However, teenagers didn't really try to hide it. What's wrong with mutual study assistance?

A few weeks passed, and all sorts of rumors were already spreading throughout the school. Someone was talking about a bet Wilbur lost, someone was talking about a quarrel between Wilbur and his old friends. Some even suggested that it was a matter of love between the boys, which made both feel terribly uncomfortable. However, the musician had experience dealing with rumors before, and as long as they didn’t go beyond their boundaries, he preferred to ignore them.

A few days later, Wilbur, holding his guitar case behind his back, entered the classroom, given over to music club classes. Many of his friends were already sitting there talking about something of their own. Noticing his arrival, the teenagers greeted the boy. He quickly joined in the conversation.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly one of the high schoolers said, "We didn't think you'd show up. It's good that you didn't forget us."

The brunet looked up from the guitar, which he was tuning at that moment, and looked at the guy uncomprehendingly.

"Why are you suddenly doubting that I will come?"

"You missed a couple of days," this time the voice belonged to a younger girl.

"I had things to do," Wil spread his hands. He hoped that someone would change the topic, but his friends would not leave him alone.

"Yeah, things ," someone else laughed, "We see what kind of things you're doing at lunch."

"Yes! You've completely stopped sitting with us! You run to Technoblade all the time."

"You've never even talked to him before, why did you suddenly start now?"

"Are the rumors true, and there really is something going on between you two? You can tell us, you know."

"No! There is nothing going on between us! And nothing could be! God, I hate even thinking about it!"

Wil’s friends laughed.

"Come on, we're just joking. We're wondering why he suddenly became more important to you than us."

"It's not like that! He is not even that important to me!" the brunet panicked, "I had to ask him for help on an essay."

"So you're not friends?" someone from the company was surprised.

"Of course not! Since when do you guys believe rumors and gossip?"

No one said anything, but some just shrugged or waved it off. Soon the topic outlived itself, and the teenagers began rehearsing.

Wilbur chose to ignore the emptiness in his chest caused by his own lies.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Wilbur loved snow. He liked the way it crunched under his feet, how it glistened on a sunny day, how snowflakes slowly and smoothly swirled in the air and quietly settled to the ground. Especially considering that the snow in the boy's hometown never stayed for long - the snowdrifts melted in February, if not earlier. Therefore, the brunet knew how to appreciate this magical time.

But the teenager hated when the snow flew in his face, and the icy wind mercilessly whipped his cheeks. The sky was covered with gray clouds, which only worsened the mood.

It was in such disgusting weather that Wil had to go to the grocery store. No, his parents did not force him, it was a conscious decision of the brunet. He could postpone the shopping trip until tomorrow - there was still enough food in the refrigerator. But another argument was brewing between the parents, so Wilbur preferred to get out of the house as soon as possible.

Moreover, if he did not pay attention to the snow and the terrible cold, then everything was tolerable. It was better than listening to the screams and arguments coming from the room below.

The teenager sighed, and a light cloud of warm steam flew from his lips. After another gust of wind, he pulled his hat tighter and quickened his pace. The store wasn’t far away.

Finally, Wil reached the entrance to the store. He was about to enter, but suddenly noticed something unusual out of the corner of his eye. To the right of the store, there was a small playground, which, as the boy initially thought, was empty. But looking closer, he noticed that someone was sitting on a swing and slowly rocking back and forth, trying not to notice the snowstorm. Without knowing why, the musician moved towards the playground, forgetting about his plans for a bit.

Coming closer, Wilbur was able to make out the face of the sitting guy. It turned out to be his acquaintance. Technoblade also noticed the teenager but reacted only with a short nod.

Wilbur stopped next to the swing and, adjusting his scarf, shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Why are you sitting here?” he asked quietly.

“Mom said I needed to communicate with people and sent me to socialize. I think she wanted me to come to see you,” the boy in glasses replied monotonously, continuing to sway.

“So why didn't you go?” Wil asked, leaning his shoulder on the supports.

“Why? We don't know each other that well… I don't want to impose on people. My mom just doesn't understand it,” Technoblade was silent for a couple of moments, after which he looked up at his acquaintance, “Listen, go where you were going. I'll sit here for a little bit longer and just go home.” 

Wilbur could have done just that: go to the store, buy everything he needed and come home. After all, as Techno correctly noticed, they were not too close. But for some reason, the teenager couldn’t just leave his peer in the cold alone. So he straightened up and shook his head.

“Nope.”

Kingsley looked at him in surprise.

“What do you mean ‘ nope ’?”

“Exactly what you think I mean. Come on, no point in sitting here,” the musician held out his hand to the brunet with glasses, “Don't worry, you won't bother us at all.”

Technoblade looked at the outstretched hand for a few seconds. Wilbur was about to lower it, but his acquaintance grabbed it and, getting up from the swing, shook off the snow.

“Just hurry up, my feet are already freezing,” the teenager muttered, and Wil, smiling, dragged him to the store.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Wilbur really didn't know how he got to the door of Kingsley's house.

Somehow he accidentally found out the date of his acquaintance's birthday. They weren't close friends, and Wil was sure that Technoblade had someone to invite besides him.

But Wilbur decided to give him a gift anyway - a pink sweater. He also had to somehow use his knitting skills, which he got a couple of years ago.

So the boy bought some balls of the softest pink wool, knitting needles, and set to work. He knitted it whenever he couldn't sleep; when his parents were fighting on the first floor; when homework didn't want to move forward in any way.

The sweater was ready in a couple of weeks.

After finishing his work, the brunet put the sweater under the bed so that no one would find it. The teenager didn’t even think to brag about the results in front of his parents - he knew that they wouldn’t appreciate either his choice of hobby or the choice of color.

Another week passed quickly. Technoblade's birthday seemed to come even faster. And the closer this significant date got, the less confidence Wil had. At first, he began to doubt whether Kingsley would like to see him at the party. Then he got anxious about the gift - what if the guy doesn't like the color? Or maybe he doesn't wear sweaters? Or maybe he won't appreciate the design?

On the evening before his birthday, Wilbur Soot decided that it would be better for everyone if he didn’t come to Technoblade, and the sweater would stay to collect dust under the bed.

Waking up the next day, the brunet immediately knew that the day would be bad. It all started with small details: the boy's favorite cereal ran out, his hairbrush got lost, the TV show that he usually watched in the morning was moved an hour earlier and he overslept it. By lunchtime, his parents had found a reason to quarrel again, and it became simply unbearable for him to stay at home. A few minutes later, unable to stand the screams, Wil took out a sweater (which was already beautifully and carefully packed by him) and headed to Kingsley's house.

Now, standing right in front of the door, he couldn't bring himself to knock. What if he interrupts the celebration with his unexpected appearance? And for what? For some stupid sweater?

But it was cold outside and he didn't have any money, so going to a cafe wasn't an option either. He didn't want to go home either. So the boy sighed and knocked.

There was no movement behind the door, and the guy decided that the owners didn’t hear him. He shrugged and hugged the sweater to his chest - now no one could say that he hadn't tried. The brunet had already turned around and was about to go, when suddenly the door opened. Technoblade's mom was standing on the threshold.

"Wilbur! Come inside, quickly, don't freeze here!"

Wil didn't even have time to think about the woman's offer, as she literally dragged him into a warm house. She helped him hang up his jacket and, putting her hands on the boy's shoulders, led him into the living room.

Wilbur knew that Technoblade was a rather private person, but he thought that maybe the teenager had friends outside of school. But when he entered the living room, the musician saw that only the younger Kingsley was sitting at the table. The table was set for two; it was easy to guess that Luna occupied the other place.

Technoblade moved a piece of broccoli around the plate without interest. When he heard that someone had entered the room, he looked up and stared at his peer in surprise. Wilbur smiled awkwardly.

"Hey," Wil began.

"Hi?" replied the brunet with glasses.

"Sit down, sit down!" the woman smiled, pushing the guest to an empty seat next to another boy, absolutely not noticing the awkwardness between them, "I'll be right back!"

Mrs. Kingsley left the living room, and the awkwardness between the two acquaintances became even stronger. But no matter what, neither of them was going to start a conversation. Suddenly, Wil remembered the gift lying on his lap. He turned to the other teenager and handed the package to him. He looked at it awkwardly.

"What is it?" the birthday boy asked monotonously.

"A gift," the musician replied, looking away.

"I meant what's inside?" the guy sighed slightly irritably.

Wilbur shrank a little but tried to look as confident as possible. He smiled, still not looking up.

"You'll have to open the gift to find out."

Technoblade sighed again but still started to tear apart the packaging. Wil glanced at him briefly and noticed that the boy was opening the gift with amazing accuracy, carefully tearing off the tape so that the paper would stay intact.

Finally, the teenager got to the gift itself. He looked at the sweater for a few moments, after which, with a face full of indifference, he picked it up and, straightening it out, examined it more closely.

Wilbur waited for his acquaintance's reaction. Maybe the fears were not unreasonable, and he didn’t like the gift after all.

But Technoblade smiled faintly and pressed the sweater to his cheek.

"Thank you," he muttered, "Very soft."

"I knitted it myself," the guest awkwardly rubbed his neck, "Glad you liked it."

At that moment, Luna returned to the room. In her hands, she had a plate, a glass, and a bag of juice. She hastily put all this in front of Wilbur and, noticing the sweater in her son's hands, gasped enthusiastically.

"What a charm! And in Techno’s favorite color too! How did you know he likes pink? Come on, Techno, go try it on while I'm getting food for Wil," she turned to the musician, "I can call you Wil, right?"

"Yeah..." the brunet drawled, getting up from his seat, "But I probably will be going. I just wanted to give you a gift, I didn't want to interrupt your celebration."

Technoblade lowered his gaze and it seemed to Wilbur that he was trying to hide the sadness in his eyes this way. Luna shook her head.

"Don't be silly! We are more than happy to see you here!" before any of the teenagers had time to say anything, the woman sat the guest back down and began to serve him food, "So you just have to stay. Neither I nor Techno will mind. Isn't that right, Techno?"

Wil looked at the guy. He was holding the pink sweater tightly as if at any moment someone would try to pull it out of the boy's hands. Seeing that the guest was looking at him, the brunet with glasses quickly nodded. This reaction looked as sincere as possible.

Wilbur smiled without lowering his eyes.

Luna patted him affectionately on the head, and Technoblade, smiling back at him, hurried off to another room to change into his new pink sweater.

And despite the bad start, the day ended just fine.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

“Hey, Kingsley, wait!”

The brunet with glasses stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked back to look at the screaming guy. Wilbur was running, making his way through a stream of people going in the opposite direction, but when he finally reached his friend, he smiled.

“Come with me!”

“Where?”

But the musician didn’t answer, only grabbed the peer by the hand and ran outside, ignoring the protests of the boy.

The teenagers soon left the schoolyard and moved to the outskirts of the city. Wil remained silent and only smiled stupidly whenever Technoblade asked questions.

Eventually, the guy with glasses couldn't stand it. He pulled his hand out of the hand of his acquaintance and stopped. Wilbur ran a few steps forward and, also stopping, turned around and looked questioningly at the other brunet.

"What are you doing? 

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where we're going," Technoblade said stubbornly.

They stared at each other for about a minute, but Wil still refused to speak. Then his companion sighed irritably and hurriedly turned around and went back. But before he had gone even 5 steps, something like a snowball flew into his back.

Kingsley turned around and glared at Soot. The smile on his face slowly grew.

"Oops. Sorry," the boy said, not regretting anything, "I was aiming at the back of your head."

For a few moments, the teenagers stood motionless, and everything around them seemed to freeze. But the moment passed, and everything abruptly began to move. Technoblade bent down, scooped up as much snow as possible with both hands and began to sculpt a frighteningly large snowball. Wilbur ran along the road as soon as he saw that.

So they ran for a long time, made snowballs, threw them, and laughed so loudly that strangers passing by looked back at them. Technoblade didn’t even notice how the sky darkened, and he and his companion got outside of the town borders, thoughtlessly walking shoulder to shoulder along a wide road.

The teenagers walked until they found themselves on some kind of observation deck on the side of the road. In fact, it was a small pocket where a couple of cars could fit, and one stand with information about this place and its surroundings.

Wilbur walked over to the fence and leaned on it, looking down. His companion stopped at the stand and quickly read through it. Finally, the boy turned his gaze to the panorama in front of him. The evening had fallen on his hometown, and it seemed that every window was brightly lit. From a distance, everything looked like a Christmas garland that had not yet been untangled and hung on the Christmas tree.

The teenagers were once again close to each other and silently enjoyed the scenery.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the musician asked, imperceptibly glancing at his companion. He shrugged without taking his eyes off, but there was a faint smile on his face.

"Not bad. But I've been to places much more impressive," the boy turned to his acquaintance, "If you want to impress me, practice for another 400 years."

Wil dramatically gasped, putting his hand on his heart and taking a step back, gently pushed the guy in the side. Both of them laughed, their laughter echoed around.

"And where is that super-impressive place that can beat this view?" Wil continued, almost lying down on the fence.

"Pretty far from here. My parents and I went to this big city, and there is the tallest skyscraper in the country. From it you can see not only the whole city but even what is outside the city. The main thing is to get there when it’s sunny. I've heard that when it's cloudy there, you can't see anything at all."

Wilbur chuckled, slowly shaking his head.

"We hardly go anywhere. Parents are too busy. But when I was little, we went to the seaside once. It was cool," the teenager recalled.

"Well, maybe someday you'll be able to visit the tallest skyscraper in the country," Technoblade drawled, taking hold of the fence, leaning back slightly, and throwing his head back to look at the sky.

"Um… By the way, I submitted that essay today," Wil remarked quietly.

Kingsley looked at him and smiled a little.

"Good job! I hope that you get a good result."

"Thank you," the musician smiled in response, looking meekly at his companion and also quickly turning away.

"What topic did you end up choosing?"

"When they return the essay, then I'll show you."

"Why do you like riddles and surprises so much?" the guy sighed, his companion grinned, but didn’t answer.

After a couple of seconds, silence hung in the air again.

"How about 20 questions?" Wilbur suggested, to somehow fill the resulting silence. He didn't expect Kingsley to agree, but to his surprise, Technoblade supported the idea.

"I'll start if you don't mind," Soot said, turning around and leaning on the fence with his back, "What is your favorite holiday?"

"I don't like holidays," the boy shrugged and was about to ask his question, but his acquaintance shook his head.

"That's not the answer to my question. Choose one that you hate the least."

The teenager paused for a bit, lost in thought.

"Christmas, probably. At least the streets are beautiful."

"You know, we want to invite you and your family to our place for Christmas. What do you think?” 

Wilbur saw Technoblade hesitate but didn't think much of it.

"Maybe," the brunet glasses said quietly, slightly averting his eyes to the side. But after a few seconds, he pulled himself together and turned to Wil, "What is your favorite color?"

"Easy," the boy clapped his hands, "Teal!"

Kingsley grunted with satisfaction.

"Have you ever had a pet?"

"No, but I've always wanted a dog. Dad promised that he would buy one soon."

"Cool! I want a cat, I would call him Mr. President! But my mom is allergic to fur."

"Well, maybe you will get a cat when you move out from your parents," the guy replied, "So, it's my turn. When is your birthday?"

"February 29," Soot said proudly.

"A unique date," his companion noted.

The brunet stopped for a second, "Do you play musical instruments?"

"I can play the violin, but at an average level."

"Wow! I have to hear you play then, at least once in my life."

"What do you dream of doing when you grow up?" Technoblade quickly changed the subject.

"I'll probably get out of this town at the first opportunity I get. Maybe I'll move to that big city, then I would go look at the tallest skyscraper in the country every day… And I would get a cat."

"Sounds like a plan."

Wilbur wondered what else to ask his companion. He had one question on the tip of his tongue, the answer to which he had long wanted to know, but still didn’t dare to ask.

And on a burst of courage, the musician asked.

"Are we friends?"

The guy held his breath. It was stupid; a stupid question. No one ever asks that, people just know. But Kingsley was never easy to figure out.

The silence became deafening, and the lights of the city seemed to grow dimmer.

Technoblade awkwardly rubbed his neck and after a moment took his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up, and the boy's eyes widened.

"Sorry, Soot, my mom is worried about where I am. Let's finish the game some other time."

And before Wilbur could say anything, his acquaintance (not a friend; if he was his friend, he wouldn't have run away in panic; apparently, Wilbur didn't deserve people like Technoblade in his life) left without a word.

When the brunet with glasses disappeared into the darkness, the musician went in the same direction, but without the desire to catch up with him. Kingsley had made it clear that he didn't see Soot as a friend. The conversation was over.

The most insulting thing was that Technoblade didn’t even receive any message from his mother.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, Wilbur, it's you. Of course, of course, sit down, please,” Miss Nelson picked up a stack of notebooks and took out the one that belonged to Wil. The teenager obediently took an empty seat at the first desk and, putting his backpack on his knees, silently waited for the teacher to reread his essay.

After a few minutes, the woman put the notebook down on the table and smiled at the boy.

“I have to admit, this is one of the best essays in your class. Amazing result! Therefore, it certainly deserves the best grade,” the brunet blushed slightly at the unexpected praise, “But I have to ask you a couple of additional questions if you don't mind. Just to make sure it was indeed your work.”

It was clear that Miss Nelson would ask questions anyway, but Wilbur still nodded.

“First of all, why did you choose this topic?”

The guy joined his hands under the table and looked away.

“I... don't even know,” he stopped thoughtfully, “Well... the story of Damon and Pythias… It's about friendship, loyalty, honesty… It seemed to me that it would be interesting to speculate about this because not every friendship is built on these principles.”

Wilbur was good at speaking, good at convincing, good at lying. And now he was using it. He spoke with a set of beautiful template phrases, composed into something resembling a detailed answer to the question that the teacher wanted to hear. But there was no truth in that answer.

After all, the truth was that for the past two months, Wil had associated himself and Technoblade with these heroes of Greek myths. Wilbur wanted to believe so badly that he had finally found a true friend who would be there, even when the world around Wilbur was rapidly collapsing.

But the brunet completely forgot that the story about Damon and Pythias was just a legend. Fiction. A fairy tale. And fairy tales, as everyone knows, were never destined to become reality. Especially Wilbur's reality.

“What inspired you while writing this essay?” Miss Nelson's question brought the boy out of his thoughts.

“Nothing inspired me,” he hastily declared.

The woman frowned slightly.

“Wilbur, your essay is not one of those that people write just to get a grade. There is a soul in it. It's obvious that you've been working hard on it for a long time. And it seems to me that something was clearly pushing you to write.”

“You're wrong, Miss Nelson,” the teenager replied firmly, clenching his fists under the table and looking the teacher straight in the eyes. They looked at each other, not looking away and not blinking for about a minute, after which she sighed in defeat, realizing that she would not be able to make the student speak.

“Okay, then the last question, and you can go,” she said, putting the notebook back in the pile, “I heard you took my advice after all and asked Technoblade for help. How was it, working together? Did you get along?”

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Wil shrugged, trying to sound as neutral and calm as possible, “He helped me with the essay, I helped him with geography.”

“Well, I'm glad that you were able to quickly find a common ground.”

The teenager grinned, remembering the beginning of their acquaintance. It could not be called quick in any way.

Having answered the last question, the boy got up from his seat and was about to leave. He quickly said goodbye to the teacher, but the woman didn’t hear him, lost in her thoughts.

“It's a pity that Technoblade won’t study here now… He's a very capable student,” Ms. Nelson muttered to herself, but in the silence of the classroom, Wilbur heard her without any problems and abruptly stopped in the doorway.

“What do you mean?”

The woman raised her head and looked at Wil with incomprehension.

“What do you mean, Technoblade won’t study here anymore?!” the brunet exclaimed and quickly walked up to her desk.

“He and his family moved to another city a few days ago… I thought he would have told you about it...”

The shock lasted only a couple of seconds. After it came to the realization: if Kingsley didn’t consider Soot his friend, then why would he tell him about moving to another city? Everything was clear and logical. There was no reason to be offended or sad. So Wilbur took a few deep breaths, smiled, and said goodbye to Miss Nelson again. She wanted to say something, but instead just wished him good holidays and with some uncertainty returned to her work.

And if Wilbur happened to walk by the house that used to belong to the Kingsley family that day, then no one needed to know about it.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

It was easy to get back to his usual life. At least that's what Wilbur told himself.

At lunch, he was sitting at the same table with his friends again. He spent his evenings in the company of people he barely knew, or (if luck was not on his side) in his room, drowning out the world around him by playing the guitar. His parents still pretended that everything was fine, even though Wilbur knew perfectly well that their relationship had been sinking for a long time without any hope of salvation. Why couldn't they just realize it themselves and finally stop with this whole circus?

Christmas was as awkward and ridiculous as one might expect. Wil couldn't help but wonder a couple of times how it would have gone if the Kingsleys had been here.

During the feast, the teenager managed to retire to his room for a few minutes to write a short message to Technoblade. It remained unread, as well as all the messages written to him after leaving.

And yes, Wilbur didn't believe in the miracles and magic of Christmas… But before going to bed, he still allowed himself to hope for a miracle and made a single wish: to get a chance to talk to Technoblade at least once more. However, closing his eyes, the boy grinned bitterly.

Miracles have always bypassed Wilbur Soot. Why was he still hoping for anything?

Chapter Text

"What?!” Tommy exclaimed, leaning closer to Wilbur, almost blocking the guy's view of the road, "I can't believe you just said that! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?!"

Wil sighed, pushing the boy a little to the side.

"I just said I don't play Minecraft. What's wrong with that? I'm not really interested in computer games in general."

The blond gasped loudly, putting his hand on his chest and falling back into the seat.

"You're killing me. Again!" the teenager straightened up again and abruptly took the brunet by the shoulder, "But don't worry, I'll save you."

"You will save me? From what?" the musician squinted at him.

"From your ignorance! From the boredom of your life!" the student began to shake the elder on the shoulder.

"Tommy!" Wilbur exclaimed, "Get off!"

"I won't let go until you realize how wrong you are in your judgment!"

"Tommy, I'm driving!" the guy growled with displeasure and tried to unhook his companion with one hand on his own, but he only tightened his fingers. Wil turned to the blond and was about to scold him when suddenly the boy turned his gaze to the road, his expression became full of horror and he shouted, "Stop!"

Even without looking at the road, the elder instinctively pressed the brake. The car shook, but still, there was a thud.

The travelers looked at the road for a couple of seconds, then simultaneously turned to look at each other, and after a few moments hurriedly got out of the car.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

April 8 was marked by Technoblade wherever it was possible: the date was circled in red marker in the calendar, there were several reminders in the phone, and a sticky note with several large exclamation marks hung on his computer monitor. With each passing day, the guy's excitement grew, even though he usually knew how to keep himself under control.

Why was April 8th such an important day? On April 8, Techno finally had to meet with the publishing house and find out if his book would be taken to print.

Technoblade loved writing for as long as he could remember. Any school essays brought only joy to him, as well as various college assignments. After finishing his studies, the guy decided not to go to university, and instead spend all his energy on what he liked to do so much.

Techno didn’t even think about the decision to move for too long. Life in a big city was interesting for the first few years, but his entire childhood was spent in a small town, and old habits die hard. At first, the guy thought about going back to his hometown but eventually decided to start all over from scratch again.

Finally, having settled in a new place, the pink-haired man began to write. But after three years of working on his first book, he realized that being a young unknown writer is very difficult. No matter which publishing houses Techno applied to, none of them even wanted to look at his draft.

But by the end of winter, Technoblade finally received an answer from a small local publishing house. Without hesitation, the pink-haired guy sent them a draft and began to wait patiently. And so, a couple of weeks ago, he was scheduled to meet on April 8.

The morning of the cherished day did not start as smoothly as we would like. Last night, Techno couldn't fall asleep for a long time, his eyes closed only by 4 in the morning. The alarm didn't go off, and the guy slept for an extra hour. When he woke up, he packed up as quickly as possible, but even so, the pink-haired man ran out of the house 20 minutes later than planned.

It seemed that everything and everyone wanted to prevent Technoblade from getting to his destination on time: there were children in his way, dogs on leashes, slow old ladies… No matter how fast he tried to avoid obstacles, no matter how fast he ran, he could not catch up the lost time.

He was already so close to the publishing house - all that remained was to cross the road and walk through a small square. Techno looked at his watch, not even paying attention to the road; there was no need for that, no one had ever driven here.

The writer realized that he was wrong when he heard the sounds of a braking car. He looked up just as the collision occurred, and immediately fell to the asphalt. Lying on the road, the guy mentally assessed his condition: nothing seriously hurt, therefore he would get off with only scratches and bruises. He should have thanked the driver for stopping in time.

But he didn't have time for that. Technoblade groaned and slowly sat down. Suddenly a teenager flew out of the car and ran up to him.

"Dude, are you okay? Didn't break anything? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No," the guy sighed and got to his feet; the blond grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him up.

The pink-haired man dusted himself off and shook his head, noticing that his jacket was torn at the elbow. He didn't even notice that another person got out of the car. Techno looked up, ignoring everything the boy next to him was saying, and froze in place. The driver, judging by the expression on his face, was also surprised by their meeting.

"Technoblade Kingsley?" the brunet finally asked.

"Wilbur Soot," the writer muttered.

"Sorry," Wil approached him, "This gremlin over here distracted me from the road. Do you need any help?"

The guy shook his head.

"Listen, it was nice seeing you," Techno cringed inside, it sounded so stupid and inappropriate - this man literally just hit him with a car, "But I really have to go now."

Wilbur looked down and nodded.

"Of course, yeah, I understand. Well, okay, bye then," and after a short pause, he added, "Glad you're okay."

The writer didn’t answer, just nodded quickly and ran on, hoping to still make it to the meeting.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"Bye? All you can tell him is ‘bye’?" Tommy was indignant, still standing on the road.

"What was I supposed to tell him? He's obviously busy, why should I waste his time?" the brunet replied, returning to the car.

The blond sighed and fell into the seat next to him. The travelers buckled up, and the car continued to move.

"You know each other," the boy said after a couple of minutes.

"Not really. We helped each other with homework a couple of times back in the day."

"Oh, stop that! If you really were just acquaintances, then you wouldn’t ever remember each other's last names. Even I don't remember the last names of most of my classmates, and I graduated from school just a few years ago."

"Maybe you just have memory problems," Wil shrugged, and Tommy rolled his eyes.

"What I'm trying to say is that you should go somewhere together, chat, catch up. It's rare to have such an opportunity," the teenager glanced at his companion, "I'm not saying that you have to… But just think about it."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Technoblade flew into the building of the publishing house and, quickly finding the reception desk, ran up to it. Leaning over it, the guy caught his breath and smiled at the girl sitting on the other side of him. She looked up from the phone and looked at him with some contempt and irritation; the smile disappeared from the writer's face, and he awkwardly put a couple of stray curls behind his ear.

"Did you want something?" the girl asked monotonously.

"Yes. I have a meeting-"

"Your name?" she interrupted him, lowering her eyes to the monitor.

"Technoblade Kingsley."

She silently began typing something on the keyboard, and after a couple of minutes, she took a deep breath.

"Your meeting should have started half an hour ago," the girl muttered, "You're lucky Mrs. Gilbert has time today."

She got up, left the counter, and moved in the direction of the stairs. Techno hurried after her, brushing himself off along the way, straightening his hair, and doing everything to make himself look more presentable.

Finally, they reached the right office. The girl gave him a stern look, closed her eyes, clearly restraining herself not to say something rude, and peered inside. After exchanging a few words with the person sitting behind the door, she returned to the corridor and, pointing to the door, hurried away. Technoblade sighed. The moment he had been waiting for so long had finally arrived. He couldn't miss this opportunity, everything had to go perfectly.

A woman was waiting for him in the office, she looked much friendlier than the girl at the reception desk. Mrs. Gilbert rose from her chair in greeting and nodded to the writer, after which she began to search for something on her laptop. Meanwhile, the pink-haired man nervously fidgeted with his fingers, his eyes darted all over the office. Finally, the woman found what she was looking for, and looking at the guy, she laughed amiably.

"I see you're worried, so I don't think it's worth stalling."

Techno nodded. He didn't want to waste Mrs. Gilbert’s time, and he couldn't wait for her decision anymore.

"I have to say that you have a lot of potential, Mr. Kingsley. Your manner of writing impressed me."

The writer smiled timidly. That’s a good start.

"And it is impossible not to note your pace of narration. You know how to make your readers invested..." her smile shifted slightly, and the guy's heart skipped a beat, "But... I'm afraid you still have a lot of work to do."

Technoblade swallowed, "What do you mean?"

"Now the interest in the fantasy genre is rapidly declining. We cannot print a work that is doomed to failure. Even the writers we've been working with for a long time are trying to change their direction. And, as a young writer, you don't have the slightest chance, unfortunately."

Techno lowered his head. They didn't even want him to try!

"However, I may have a solution to your problem!" Mrs. Gilbert continued, not paying attention to the guy's condition, "Autobiographies or books based on real events are especially popular now! Everyone wants to know about the lives of others. If you come with such a work, then we will gladly agree to work with you!"

Everything that the woman said after that didn’t matter to Technoblade. The next couple of minutes were a blur: the conversation came to an end, and he left the office and was now standing at the exit of the building.

Finally, all those rejections and ignored messages made sense. But it also meant that he had wasted the last couple of years. How could he continue writing after that? And if he decided to follow Mrs. Gilbert's advice and take up writing a story based on real events, what could he possibly take as a basis? His life was not remarkable, all his free time was devoted to writing. He didn't even have acquaintances from whom he could take inspiration.

To hell with everything. He needed time to think. Therefore, Technoblade went towards his home, intending to fall into bed and look at the ceiling, thinking about his next possible steps. But his plan was interrupted by a male voice from the parking lot.

There, by the car that hit the pink-haired man this morning, was Wilbur Soot. The brunet, noticing that Techno paid attention to him, quickly approached him and smiled slightly.

"Hello again," Wil said timidly.

"Hello," the writer mumbled in response.

"Listen, I've been thinking… Would you… Maybe we could go to a cafe together?"

Technoblade looked at him with a frown. He expected anything but this. Why would Wilbur invite him anywhere?

Feeling his doubts, the brunet raised his hands in a soothing gesture, "It’s nothing, really, I just want to treat you to coffee... or tea..."

"Listen, you don’t have to," Techno replied; he wanted to get to his apartment as soon as possible and forget about everything that happened today, "I'm not mad about what happened today. No need to apologize or make amends. It’s all good.” 

Wil looked at him for a couple of moments and laughed.

"No, no! I'm not about that! It's just... we haven't seen each other for a long time... and who knows when we'll see each other again. If fate forced us to meet today, then maybe it's worth listening to?"

The pink-haired guy thought about it and after a few seconds looked his old friend straight in the eyes, "Are you paying for it?"

"Of course," he smiled.

"Okay," what's the point of giving up a free drink? This was unlikely to significantly raise Technoblade's mood, but his home wasn’t going anywhere, he would just go wallow in self-pity after that.

“Great!” Wilbur clapped his hands happily, his eyes almost glowing; Techno unconsciously smiled, just looking at his reaction, "But you choose where we go. I'm passing through here and have no idea where to find good coffee. Or tea."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"And that boy who was with you… Does he know where to look for us?"

"He knows we're in a cafe, he just doesn't know which one. But it’s fine, he'll run around, look for it, eventually, he'll find it. I believe in him."

"Why are you doing this to him?" Technoblade smiled slightly.

"I already told you, this fucker distracted me from the road. I almost became a murderer because of him! Wil exclaimed, waving his arms theatrically.

"But it worked out..?"

“Doesn’t matter.”

The bell above the door tinkled, and the two guys entered a small cafe. The smells of fresh coffee and pastries hit Wilbur in the nose.

There were a lot of people here, despite it being working hours. Most of the visitors were students on a break with friends; however, at separate tables, there were older people working on something on their laptops, and younger people - schoolchildren who clearly should have been at school.

Technoblade confidently went to his favorite place in a quiet corner, away from all the commotion, and invited Wilbur to sit opposite of him. The brunet took off his raincoat, hung it on the back of a chair, sat down, and looked around.

"Nice place. Do you come here often?" the musician smiled, turning to a friend.

"Quite often. I sometimes come here to write."

This clearly interested Wil, but he still decided to change the subject.

"So, I'm sure we have some stuff to discuss. So… can we play 20 questions? Just like when we were kids."

Techno shrugged. He had no particular desire to tell his friend anything, but he would be lying if he said that he was not interested in hearing about the life of his peer.

"Then my first question is," the brunet smiled and got up from his seat, "What do you want me to get for you?"

"It doesn't matter, I don't have any special preferences. It’s all up to you."

The guy nodded and went to the counter. A couple of minutes later he returned, holding two bright mugs in his hands.

"I don’t know what kind of coffee you like, so I decided to take tea instead. But regular tea was boring, so I chose berry tea. Diana highly recommended him," It took Technoblade a few moments to realize that Diana was the barista. He came here every week, and still didn't know the names of any of the employees; Wilbur was here for the first time and had already met someone.

The pink-haired man raised the cup to his lips, took a sip, and grunted approvingly. The tea was actually really good.

"So, it's your turn then," Wil said, "Ask whatever you want."

The writer thought about it, and sipped some more tea.

"That boy who was in the car with you… Is he your brother?"

Wilbur laughed. The people sitting at the neighboring tables shifted their gazes to him, but the guy didn't look bothered at all.

"No! Thank the gods, no! I don’t know what I would do if Tommy was related to me by family ties!"

"Then who is he?"

"Uh, no, Kingsley. It's my turn to ask a question."

"You can just call me Techno," he said without thinking.

"Techno?" the brunet was surprised, "What happened to 'It’s Kingsley to you, plebeian'?"

"Firstly, I have never called anyone a plebeian," the musician chuckled in response to this, "And secondly… Everything in our life is changing. So, who is this Tommy if not a member of your family?"

"It's my turn!"

"You already asked me about my name."

"You didn't even really answer… Okay, whatever," Wil sighed, "It might be hard to believe, but... I found him in a park. I was passing through the city where he studies. We met when I was playing outside, he came every day. And when it was time for me to go, he decided to go with me. We've been traveling together ever since."

Technoblade chuckled in surprise.

"Um... this," Wilbur ambiguously waved his hand in the direction of the hair of the guy sitting across from him, "is something new. It looks unusual. How long have you been dyeing your hair?"

Techno took one curl and twisted it between his fingers, "I dyed my hair for the first time at the age of 17, I think. I tried many colors. But I eventually settled on pink."

"It suits you," the musician muttered, sipping tea.

"Thank you," and after a few moments, remembering that it was his turn to ask a question, he asked, "How long have you and Tommy known each other?"

"I was hoping that you would ask questions related to me, but, apparently, Tommy is more interesting to you than I am," the brunet jokingly grinned, "We met on April 1. The most suitable day to meet a fool."

"Wait, that was… You've known each other for eight days," Wilbur nodded, and the writer shook his head, "Only you are capable of such a thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" the guy exclaimed, chuckling slightly, and, after calming down a little, continued, "Is there anyone on the love horizon?"

"Nah. Not that I try to look for anyone, though."

"I get that. I had a girlfriend, but she left me for someone else."

"...Sorry to hear that," the pink-haired guy replied uncertainly, "Speaking of love. How are your parents, are they still together?"

The smile disappeared from the musician's face, and he looked away at a small group of schoolchildren sitting in another corner of the cafe. They were all eating ice cream and discussing the upcoming test.

"No. They divorced almost as soon as I turned 18."

"Oh," Technoblade looked down into the almost empty cup.

"No, it's fine. Honestly, it would’ve been better if they had divorced even earlier. Everyone saw that their marriage was not working out. I know they tried to do it for me, but I wasn't a little kid, I would’ve understood and lived through their divorce just fine. But instead, they delayed the inevitable and made the life of both each other and me a living hell," Wil suddenly stopped, as if remembering that he was not alone here, and, looking at the interlocutor, smiled, "Sorry, didn't want to burden you with my problems. And it all happened a long time ago anyway..."

"It's okay. I asked you myself."

"So… You write, then?" the brunet changed the subject.

"I don't even know anymore," the pink-haired man sighed.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I worked on the book for three years, put my soul into it. And today I was told that all this was in vain, and I should throw all the progress out the window and start writing something else, even in a genre that I don’t even like," the pink-haired guy put his head on the table, "I don't know if I can write after that."

Suddenly Techno felt Wilbur's hand on his arm. The writer looked up.

"We all have ups and downs. And sometimes it seems that after another fall there is no way to recover. But it's not true, believe me. I speak as a person who has had a dark streak in his life for too long. You just have to force yourself to look at the situation from a different angle and find a way out."

Before Technoblade had time to answer anything, the door of the cafe opened, and a very dissatisfied Tommy burst in. Despite the fact that the guys were sitting in a quiet corner hidden from prying eyes, the boy noticed them and approached their table.

"Wilbur fucking Soot!" the blond exclaimed.

"Yes, Tommy?" the brunet replied as if nothing had happened.

"You don't answer my calls and messages, but you also didn't bother to specify which cafe you will be in!"

"Really? Oh, silly me," Wil tried not to smile, but the corners of his lips twitched anyway.

"You dumbass! While you were sitting here, some people were walking by your car. I think they were going to take it somewhere."

The musician abruptly got serious. He jumped up from his seat and, grabbing his coat, asked, "How long ago have you seen it happen?"

"Hmm, about 7 minutes ago."

"Goddamnit!" the guy exclaimed and turned his gaze to his peer, "I'm really sorry, but I have to-"

"Go, don't waste time standing here," Techno waved his hand, and Wilbur, nodding gratefully, rushed to the exit of the cafe.

Tommy watched his companion disappear from sight and took a seat opposite the pink-haired one. The writer looked at him questioningly.

"What?" the teenager snorted.

"It's your car too, to some extent. Shouldn't you be worried about this too?"

The blond chuckled, "There are actually no people. And the car is fine, I think. Standing where it was."

"Did you make it all up then?"

"Well, what about it? He made me run all over the neighborhood looking for the two of you. It will be a lesson to him not to mess with Tommy Innit, or revenge will be cruel! And while we're waiting, I think I'll order some ice cream."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

By the time the cafe's doors opened again and an enraged Wilbur entered, Tommy was finishing his third ice cream ball. Now the brunet came up to the table and looked at the younger one with displeasure. The musician looked out of breath. The student smiled - that was exactly what he wanted.

"Well, did you like running?" the teenager asked, and the guy only growled in response.

"While you were away, Technoblade and I had a great chat and generally a good time, didn't we?" Tommy added, turning to his new acquaintance.

Techno nodded. The teenager may have been louder than the guy would have wanted, but otherwise, the pink-haired man had no complaints about him. The boy was passionate about many topics, and therefore they were able to easily find common ground. The writer was beginning to understand why Wilbur had taken the blond with him.

"As soon as I leave, you immediately start terrorizing Technoblade," the brunet said a little more calmly and, sighing, turned his gaze to the guy, "I'm sorry that I had to leave you alone with this gremlin."

"Excuse you! People only find me annoying at first, but then they realize just how great and amazing and cool I am and all they do is thrive in my presence," the blond objected with a serious look on his face.

Technoblade grinned and shook his head.

"Well, since you're here, we can go," Tommy suddenly declared, throwing a spoon into the now empty bowl, after which he got up from his seat and extended his hand to Techno, "It was nice meeting you."

The guy shook hands, "The feeling is mutual."

The boy smiled and went to the exit. Wilbur turned to his old acquaintance.

"Well, I guess, it's time for us to go," the brunet said uncertainly, "Apparently, we are not able to finish the game of 20 questions at least once. But I was glad to see you again."

With these words, the musician moved after his companion, and Techno suddenly realized that if he left now, they would probably never meet again. If Wilbur left, how would Techno be able to look at the situation from a different angle and find a way out?

Maybe this trip is exactly what could help him find inspiration.

Therefore, Technoblade hurried after the guy and caught up after leaving the cafe.

“Wilbur, wait!”

He stopped and turned around, looking expectantly at the pink-haired one, “Yes?”

“Listen...” the words seemed to leave the writer for a couple of moments, “While we were waiting for you, Tommy told me about your journey.”

“Okay?” the brunet nodded, clearly not understanding what Techno was trying to convey to him, but the musician didn’t try to hurry him, for which he was very grateful.

“He also said that you have room for one more… And I thought… Well, I would like to ask you... if, of course, you don't mind...”

“Just say what you want to say, man,” Wil laughed, but there was no hint of mockery or annoyance in his laugh.

“Can I come with you?” Wilbur silently looked at his acquaintance, and before he could answer anything, Technoblade felt the need to find some weighty reason to fully convince him, so he hurriedly added, “I think it could help me with inspiration. But I'll understand if you refuse.”

The brunet smiled again.

“If you really want it… Then I will be glad to travel in your company.”

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Traveling with Technoblade turned out to be much easier than Tommy had expected. Sometimes the teenager even forgot that the writer had joined them only a couple of days ago. However, the boy also knew Wilbur for about 10 days, so apparently it didn’t really matter.

Techno brought something special to their dynamics. He often retold to the younger the plots of various books. Tommy, who had lost faith in literature thanks to school lessons, was amazed at how interesting books could be if you read them for your own pleasure and at your own pace.

Another undeniable advantage of Technoblade being part of their group was that he had a laptop. In addition, the blond found out that the writer played Minecraft, and was damn good at it as well. Tommy was yet to beat him in Bed Wars.

The pink-haired man's communication with Wil was also easy, although Tommy noticed that sometimes they restrained themselves, and avoided certain topics as if they were afraid to cross some line visible only to the two of them. The student thought it was stupid and hoped that one day the guys would finally talk about what was bothering them (communication is the key, after all), but at the same time preferred not to get into their relationship. They had known each other longer than they had known Tommy, and they could sort out their problems on their own.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

They were driving along an empty highway, the rain was drumming on the windshield, and the wipers could barely cope with the strong streams of water. There was some kind of late-night program on the radio, in which several hosts were arguing about something, but the sound was too quiet to fully hear their arguments. But no one offered to turn off the radio: Wilbur always has said he was annoyed by the silence while driving, Tommy was too exhausted to give a damn about what was playing on the radio, and Techno found a “special charm” in random programs and songs playing during the night; he rarely listened to their content, completely immersed in the writing process. Sometimes he immersed himself so much that it even slightly scared the teenager - at such moments it seemed that Technoblade could ignore anything around him.

Now was one of those moments. Sitting in the back seats and wrapped in a blanket, the guy worked hard on his new book, quickly clicking on the keyboard. His face full of concentration was illuminated only by the screen.

Wilbur, sitting next to Tommy, was completely focused on the road. Even in the dark, the blond could see some fatigue on the elder's face. They should make a stop in the next city and force the brunet to sleep normally.

Tommy sighed softly and, leaning on the glass, lazily looked at the screen of his phone. The clock showed 3:17, and the teenager was thinking about going to sleep, but something didn’t allow him to close his eyes. A swirl of thoughts was raging in his head, but he was too exhausted to focus on even one of them.

Outside the window, bright lanterns, tall trees, and, occasionally, bus stops slowly floated by. One could only guess for whom they were built here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, on the side of this endless highway.

Suddenly, the silhouette of a telephone booth suddenly appeared on the horizon, as lonely and mysterious as those stops. The thought arose spontaneously, and since the tired boy's verbal filter worked much worse in this state, he immediately, without having time to really think about anything, muttered, “Stop here, please.”

Wilbur hesitated a little, but deciding that the teenager's request was important enough, pulled over to the side of the road and stopped a couple of meters away from the booth. Tommy nodded quietly and, opening the door, went to the telephone. If Wil tried to reach him, the rain effectively drowned out his voice.

By the time the blond got to the shelter, he was already soaked, but he was too sleepy to worry about it. He picked up the phone and at the same moment realized that he had no idea what he was doing. Barely shrugging his shoulders, the student put the phone to his ear and heard a long beep. After making sure that the machine was working, he fumbled in his pockets, took out a suitable coin, and threw it into the designated hole. All that remained was to dial the number. After pausing for a couple of moments, Tommy finally gathered his courage and dialed the numbers he knew by heart.

The long continuous beep was replaced by a series of short ones, and after a few seconds, they stopped altogether. The boy held his breath.

“Hello?” a familiar voice rang out.

“Hey, Tubbo,” Tommy replied with a sigh of relief.

“Tommy? Is that you?” his friend asked anxiously.

“Yeah, it’s me,” the student rested his forehead against one of the walls of the booth and slightly closed his eyes.

“Are you all right? Why are you calling me from an unknown number from fuck knows where?! And isn't it the middle of the night there?” With each new question, Tubbo sounded more and more worried, “Do you need help? Have you been kidnapped?”

“No one kidnapped me...” the teenager chuckled, “Well, almost… I mean, I kind of agreed to it myself.”

”You're talking nonsense. And if I usually understand your nonsense, now I really don’t.”

“Sorry, Tubbs, I just really want to sleep.”

“Are you hurt? Because if you're injured, then you can't fall asleep!”

“I'm not injured. And I'm all right, I swear. We were just passing by a phone booth, and I thought, ‘You know what would be cool? If I called Tubbo using a street phone.’”

“We? I didn't know that you and your parents were going somewhere.”

“I'm not with my parents, Tubbo.

“Then who are you with?”

“I met a musician in the park. His name is Wilbur. He's traveling, and he took me with him. And he's also a real bastard. And recently Technoblade joined us. He and Wilbur are kind of friends, but something happened between them and they haven't talked for many years. And then Wil hit Techno with a car, and I made them go to a cafe together, and now Techno is traveling with us. He writes books. And he also plays Minecraft very well, which is awesome. I will definitely introduce you to each other sometime. But not to Wilbur. Wilbur is a bitch. He doesn't deserve to know you.”

There was laughter at the other end.

“I'm glad you're okay,” Tubbo paused for a few moments and continued a little quieter, “I was worried. You haven't answered calls and texts for over a week.”

“Sorry. I... couldn't find the right moment. I'm a busy man, you know me. And when I had free time, it was already nighttime for you. I didn't want to wake you up.”

“Hey, did you forget that I don't know what a sleep schedule is?” Tubbo chuckled, “You can call me even in the middle of the night. I'll always answer.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go to sleep, you sound like you are about fall where you stand. And I'm waiting for messages and calls from you with stories about your travels and new acquaintances. You intrigued me.”

“Okay,” Tommy nodded, forgetting that his friend couldn’t see him, “Say hi to Ranboo.“

"I will. Good night.”

And the call was finished.

The blond hung up the phone and went out into the rain, returning to the car. He climbed into the back seats, and as soon as his wet head touched the pillow, he immediately fell asleep, not paying any attention neither to Techno's dissatisfied muttering that now his entire blanket was wet as well, nor to the radio broadcast still going on in the background.