The morning after, Part 2.

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Wilhelm

Wilhelm and Simon walked out of the club hand in hand at 2am laughing and singing "Smooth" by Santana with Wilhelm reenacting Simon's on-stage moves, and Felice following behind, engrossed in her cellphone. Malin and David kept a respectable distance to give the trio at least a modicum of privacy.

Simon laughed at the terrible impersonation. "Next year, we're doing a duet. You and me."

Wilhelm grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, cool. I'm in. What are we going to call ourselves? Crown Slay?"

Simon looked at Wilhelm with a glint in his eyes. "Sovereign Shredders?"

Wilhelm laughed, "Electric Kings?"

"I like it!" replied Simon with a chuckle. "Electric Kings it is. For next year."

"On it. I'll be working on a song."

"You better. I'm not doing that again. That was work," replied Simon, swinging Wilhelm's hand lightly as they sauntered along.

"Ok, my house is that way," Simon announced as they hit a fork in the road, interrupting the lazy, carefree mood. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, later."

As Wilhelm walked to the car parked a street away (he had asked the bodyguards to not pull it up to the club, no need to make that kind of exit), he looked at Felice as she gave him a teasing glance.

"What?!" said Wilhelm.

"Oh, you know what. Fine, for today, enjoy it. But tomorrow, you've got some explaining to do, young man."

Wilhelm looked down and grinned as he sauntered along, crossing his feet as he moved, his eyes glistening.

"Tomorrow is another day."

Felice rolled her eyes and smirked, "Technically not, but sure. Go with that."

--

Wilhelm got back to his dorm room, his ears ringing from the aftereffects of the club. He looked at his cellphone. 2:47am.

The next thing he knew, sun was pouring through his window.

He sat up in bed as the memories of what had happened the night before flooded in.

Fuck, he thought.

He looked at his phone. 1 new message from Simon.

Simon: We need to talk.

His heart began to beat out of his chest, and his breath quickened. His felt a ringing in his head that no amount of counting could erase. He fell into child's pose on his bed, but the ringing was too much to handle. He started counting, 1, 2, 3, breathe. 1, 2, 3, breathe.

He looked down at his cellphone. Was 9:30 too early to call Dr. Nilsson on a Sunday? He needed to talk to someone, right then. Every second, he recalled more and more of the evening, and his thoughts began to spin out of control.

He scrolled through his phone, grateful that the counselor had put his phone number in Wilhelm's contacts before he had left for Erik's funeral.

As he pushed 'Call', he thought for a quick second, What is wrong with me?

"Hello?" answered Dr. Nilsson.

"Hi, Dr. Nilsson?" responded Wilhelm, haltingly. He already regretted the call as he heard the counselor's kids yelling, 'Who's that?' in the distance.

"Is that you, Wilhelm?" Wilhelm heard a door open and shut, and then the background noise became muffled.

"Yeah, um, I'm so sorry to call you at home. I wouldn't have called you if it weren't an emergency," said Wilhelm, his voice cracking.

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