Wilbur stared at the window to his room, the space around him suddenly feeling too cramped for him to stay in. His gaze directed over to the small bag that was sitting on the couch, open and full of a variety of belongings. Phone, charger, clothes, basic necessities. The man walked over to close up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, making sure the note he left was sitting out open for who he hoped would find it.

He took one last glance behind him before opening the window, hopping out into the backyard.

---

David was worried about Wilbur, to say the least. The man had barely been out of his room at all, and when he did come out, he wouldn't talk to him or.. any of the others to say the least.

Charlie would always comment on the tired look in his eyes, receiving no response. Jack would always try to lighten up the mood, but nothing happened. All they got in response was an attentive hum from the other signalling he was still there physically. But they all knew he wasn't there mentally.

He doesn't know why he feels a chill go down his spine as he approaches the door of the tallests room.

"Wil? Are you in here?" He asked, slightly knocking on the door. With a few seconds of no response, he shook his head and spoke once more before slowly creaking open the door to the room.

"I'm coming in, alright? I just want to talk."

The room before him felt.. empty, to say the least, and the more he looked, seeing most of the other belongings gone from the room, the open window and missing backpack from the wall, it started to set in.

His eyes immediately widened, darting around the room, seeing a piece of paper unfolded atop the couch. He quickly made his way towards it, grabbing onto it.

Dear David, it read out in innocent handwriting.

The letter tightened up in his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

Don't worry, I'm not dead, or dying. I'm just leaving. There's simply nothing left for me here. Nothing feels the same, and it's all become so tiresome. Don't bother with finding me, I'll be long away from this damned place by the time you're seeing this. You're the only one. That has a note, I mean. I'm sorry if that came off as selfish. I didn't have enough time to make a note for everyone. I would've come to regret my current choice by the time I finished.

You were always a good friend, David. Best ghost hunting pal I could've asked for. I'm sorry we had to depart like this.

And in that same handwriting, was Wilbur's usual signature. That signature with the carefree smiley face. It gave David a small bit of hope at first, he didn't lie. A hope that this was all just a prank, a joke.

- Wil :]

---

Wilbur glares at the bright lights of the subway station before him. It was ironic, he noted. He'd always been missing to himself. The guitarist has been here time and time again, with a promise that he'd leave, but he'd always back down before actually going through with it. And now..

"..One ticket to New York, one way please."

He was just going to be missing to the entire world.

"Are you sure? This decision would be final, sir."

It was too late to go back now, when he's gotten so far.

"Yeah."

After exchanging the money and getting the ticket, now it was the waiting game. A part of him was starting to regret this. A sense of sadness, leaving everything behind.

The sound of train doors opening in front of him caught his attention a few minutes later. He looked at the train number and- yeah, that's his ride. He steps in, hearing the doors shut behind him, and he takes his seat.

The ride was silent, but for once, it was a good silence to him. The male set his guitar next to him, zoning out. He pieced together a few words coming from the speakers before he began to doze off, clutching his guitar close.

"Estimated-- arrival-- one day-- and-- two hours--"

---

It's been two weeks since Wilbur went missing.

"I.. I thought he was fine!" David cried out, slamming his fist down on the desk before him. The letter sat back where it originally was on the couch, long discarded as Charlie put a hand on his shoulder. There wasn't much they could do.

No signs, no updates. Schlatt had offered up his room in New York for David, Phil, Tommy, and Techno to stay in, seeing as rent was getting hard on all of them without Will. It's been a rough couple of weeks on all of them, to say the least.

"..I'm going to drop by the park, go take a walk. I'll be back." David said quietly, receiving a nod from Techno, and a 'stay safe' from Phil. It was a silent walk, but it was helpful to say the least. The sounds of the park were refreshing after being in the basically silent household for those two weeks.

Going to sit on a bench, he accidentally bumped into someone, immediately backing up and apologizing.

"Shit, sorry mate-"

"Oh, sorry-"

..

The voice. The way the figure immediately stopped. The guitar strapped to his back accompanied by curly brown hair and familiar hollowed eyes.

"Wilbur?"

The person- no, Wilbur immediately tensed up, taking a few steps back, a small "fuck" leaving from under his breath.

"Hey, David!" He said, trying to sound excitement, but the hoarseness of his voice and the glossiness of his eyes told another story. Tears were welling up in David's eyes. This- this was his friend that was missing for weeks, here, in front of him.

"Wilbur, I'm- fuck- I'm so glad you're safe man." He immediately wrapped the taller into a hug, that of which he melted into, but still stayed silent. When the other pulled back, he fully took into account Wilbur's appearance. The bags under his eyes looked like bruises at this rate, posture slightly hunched and usually messy hair even more messed up.

The man looked terrible, to say the least.

It was silent for a bit. The two exchanged looks at each other, one full of shock whilst the taller was full of regret.

"Let's get you home."

It was an uncomfortable walk back. Wilbur leaning against David like dead weight, barely able to hold himself up, and the feeling that this was all still a dream.

When they arrived at the apartment door, the shorter one looked up at the guitarist, his eyes basically spelling out, "Are you ready to face the others?"

A small nod.

The door gently opened, and Phil's grip immediately tightened up on the doorknob seeing Wilbur leaning against David.

"Wil...." The name barely left his mouth before the taller had practically flung into Phil's grip, sobbing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please- please don't hate me- I- I didn't mean it-"

Phil only held the other tighter.