KEEP A PLACE FOR ME // Wilbur Soot X Reader

27

The venue was even smaller than the last place Wilbur had played - it was no wonder Jazzy could only wrangle up one ticket. It was obvious that the place was usually used for stand-up comedy and that sort of thing, but the place was not the important part. The seat in the back that the man taking the tickets pointed you to was. 

It was sort of tucked away in the back row, pressed up against one of the walls of the place and underneath the sound booth, hidden in the shadows, but it was a seat nonetheless. 

You slipped in just as the show was starting and Wilbur was taking his place on stage. His acoustic guitar was leaned up against the stool, as you had seen it before, and the lights cast long shadows, obscuring parts of the stage. 

It didn't matter though, because Wilbur was there, introducing himself as he took his guitar and sat down, adjusting the mic stand. 

"Hello everyone." He said, scanning over the crowd. "My name's Wilbur Soot, and I'm going to play a few songs for you all tonight."

You watched as his eyes slipped over you, not seeing. Your heart fell slightly - you had hoped he would see you right away, but having a seat in the farthest corner of the place probably didn't help. It was more crucial that you catch him after the show anyway, so that you could actually talk to him. 

And maybe see if he wanted to go out to dinner sometime. 

Just thinking about it made your stomach twist with nerves. You had spent so long pushing your feelings aside that letting yourself focus on them made you nervous. It didn't help that you had no idea what kind of response Wilbur was going to have - yeah, he was your friend, but that could be all that he wanted. 

Why was this so hard?

On stage Wilbur picked up his guitar, strumming it a few times to make sure it was in tune. He jumped right into the first song from there (Saline Solution), the smooth tone of his singing voice floating out over the crowd of gathered people. 

You let yourself get lost in the song, just savoring the way Wilbur sounded and the gentle movement of the crowd around you. You could feel yourself finally - finally - truly relax, just enjoying the environment and the energy. Wilbur's set was good, as it always was, and halfway through you went to get yourself a pint, deciding that if you were going to actually tell him how you felt, the little bit of alcohol would do you good. 

It was after you sat back down that Wilbur glanced up and locked eyes with you from across the venue. 

You could see the recognition connect, and then the squint as he made sure it was really you. You smiled, tipping your drink towards him. 

He missed the next note in the song, but played it off at the last second, ducking his head and smiling like an idiot. 

Your heart squeezed in your chest as you cradled your pint and watched Wilbur play. Just being in the same room as him again was making your brain go into overdrive - cataloging every twitch of his fingers or quirk of his lips, drinking in every detail like you had spent months in the desert, even though it had only been about a week. 

You couldn't help it though - even before he'd gotten evicted, he'd had such a magnetic presence, and now that you were attached, and had a scare that you weren't going to see him again, it was like a reflex. 

Wilbur finished the song, and took a long drought out of his water bottle, his eyes finding you in the audience again. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and introduced the next song, before picking up his guitar and strumming again. You watched him openly, glad to finally be admitting to yourself and the world that you thought he was extraordinarily attractive. 

Watching him sing about heartbreak though, made you think about the real reason you were here. What were you even going to say? You had rushed here so quickly, that you hadn't even thought about it yet, and you had nothing planned. How did you express everything that had been building up without sounding insane?

You should have planned it out in the car on the way over, but you had been too busy singing your heart out to the same album Wilbur was playing now, caught up in the rush. 

You thought about what Jazzy would tell you - just to be yourself, and be honest! She was so sure he liked you anyway, there would be no need to try and come off as anything but who you were. Maddy would probably have told you much the same; except also to not be too much. 

You felt vastly under prepared all of a sudden - people on television always had long dramatic speeches about their undying love - would Wilbur want something like that? You didn't even a vague idea of what you wanted to say. What if you messed it up? What if you stumbled over your words, or you said something out of pocket, or just ended up chickening out altogether?

You felt like chickening out... but Wilbur had already seen you in the audience, and if you left now it would just be rude. 

And if you came home without at least telling Wilbur how you felt, you were pretty sure Jazzy was going to kill you and bury you in the back garden. 

"Thank you all for coming tonight, really appreciate it." Wilbur said, standing up from his stool and slinging his guitar over his back. "If you want a copy of the album, they're selling them at the bar, and I'll be playing next week here too. Goodnight everyone!"

As the audience began to get up and move around, you downed the rest of your drink. You were going to need to confidence for this next bit.