《anybody else | wilbur soot fanfiction》_chapter ten_ next time
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"No," I stop my words to laugh, "That's not exactly how it happened."
"But it's similar?" Wilbur sounds excited and a little worried as I tell a story. We've been sitting on a call for the past two hours talking after a stream. We somehow got on the topic of George peeing his pants in year five.
"Sadly yes," I sigh, not even wanting to get into the details. The horror I felt the day I realized GeorgeNotFound was sitting in a puddle of his own pee on my carpet is a day I'd rather forget.
"Can I use this on stream?" Wilbur asks, knowing the answer is probably no.
"Absolutely not," I try to say it seriously, but I'm smiling, "Are you trying to get him to never talk to me again?"
"Is it that horrifying for him?"
"Yes, and I will be six feet underground if he finds out I told someone," I say.
"How's he going to do that?" Wilbur muses, "I don't think he has it in him to kill someone. He's too innocent."
I do my snort-laugh at his words. George is absolutely-positively capable of such evil.
"He'd have Dream to help," I say.
"I could fight George away from you, but I don't know what Dream looks like," Wilbur explains.
"I know what he looks like, but I don't know who would win in a fight." I giggle a bit after I say it.
"What?" I imagine this went with a mouth-gaping jaw drop type thing. "You know what Dream looks like?"
"Yeah, I do actually." I don't tell a lot of people just because it's Dream, and there's a lot of people dying for a face reveal. Plus, the fans would speculate Dream and I dating if I knew what he looked like before George does. That's just a whole thing neither of us want to get into.
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"You have to tell the story."
"It wasn't like a big reveal," I begin to explain, "I was hanging out at George's house, and Dream Facetimed me. We both covered our cameras, and he asked where I was. When I said George's, he opened his camera and did the like, pog face for a second before turning it off."
"Where was George during all of this? Does he know what he looks like?" Wilbur's voice is filled with curiosity even though it's not a super eventful story.
"George was in the bathroom," I say with a laugh. George is always in the bathroom during important events. One time he missed everyone trying to sing happy birthday to him because he was in the bathroom. I've told him multiple times to go to the doctor and get his bowels checked, but he claims he's perfectly normal.
"I guess nature calls when nature calls," Wilbur says, "I feel like you have such valuable information right now, and you do nothing with it."
"I mean, I'm faceless too, so it's nothing super special to me, I guess."
"Wait," Wilbur pauses for a second, "Does Dream know what you look like?"
I laugh a bit at the irony. No, but you do. I want to say.
"No, George came in a second later, so we just moved on," I explain, "It was really anticlimactic."
"Does anyone besides George know what you look like?" Wilbur asks.
I take a long pause, deciding to take more of a risk. "Actually, yes. Do you want to hear something crazy, Wilbur?"
"Always."
"I saw you in London, and you actually talked to me, but you had no idea." I say it slowly, letting him take the words in.
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"You're kidding me." He sounds dumbfounded and annoyed at the same time. "When?"
"It wasn't a full conversation," I clarify, "I sat there like an idiot while you talked, but you've definitely seen me."
"When?" he repeats.
"I can't tell you that," I mess with him.
"Why not?" His voice resembles a complaining toddler when told no.
"Because I said so," I say it simply, "You should've paid closer attention."
"Ugh." I can hear him hit his desk once. "I really missed it?"
"You'll know next time, don't worry," I promise him. I'm not sure how, but I'll make sure of it.
"I'll make sure of it."
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