I lie in bed the next morning, still thinking about what happened last night. Wilbur's words bounce off the walls of my brain over and over again.

"I wanted to tell you something." He doesn't wait for me to reply before saying, "I wrote a song about you."

The pure thought behind writing a song about someone, about me, makes me feel happy, but another question bounces around in unison.

Who did he write it for?

He had just called me Lilly right before he called me back. Was she on his mind? Did he write a song about how he felt about her that night?

But I wasn't pretending to be anyone else. I was Maia. The same person he had called only a friend a couple days prior.

Does he even consider them as two different people? I know I do.

Maia has always been a pure friend, but Lilly was there for the sole purpose of not being Maia. She was there to be more than friends. Maia is a friend-soulmate, and Lilly is a drunk-love-soulmate. Two separate categories.

And you can't mix those up.

Mixing those up could lead to confusion and not working out. We could lose our friendship, and everything that was once delicate butterflies could blow up in our faces. It seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

Which is why I need to remind myself that it's no big deal.

A text from George saying to join discord disrupts my thought process. I shrug as I pull a blanket over my shoulders and head to my computer.

I notice Wilbur on the call, and my heart starts to beat even faster.

Did Wilbur talk to George about what happened, and George decided to take matters into his own hands?

My hands are shaking as I join. I remind myself that it's no big deal.

"Mai, guess what?" George's voice is excited for it being barely after one in the afternoon. Usually he's still asleep now. Or really grumpy.

Either way, the excitement makes me relax a bit.

"Aren't you chipper?" My voice is crackly from it being the first time I spoke in the morning. Neither of them acknowledge it though.

"I went to bed at 5pm last night," George replies as if that's no ridiculously early. "Guess what."

"What?" I mumble, wondering why Wilbur hasn't said anything at all.

"Guess who's coming to London soon?" George asks.

My heart drops. Who else would it be besides the only other person in the call?

We obviously haven't spoken since the phone call last night. I have no idea if he even remembers all of what happened, or if it's all a blur of blackout drunk swirls. I don't really want to be the one who reminds him.

George takes my quiet for being an idiot. "Oh my gosh, you're taking too long," he says, "It's Wilbur!"

"Ohh wow, that's so exciting." I purposely make my voice go a couple octaves higher to feign excitement. "When did you decide that, Wilbur?" I ask.

"Umm." His voice is deep. From the way he's pausing to think about the answer, I would say he just woke up and is hungover. "The band is meeting with some important people next week, so we have to go for a couple days."

I hum a response. "That's cool. That's really awesome for you."

"Are you going to be playing them any songs or just talking?" George asks.

"Playing a couple recordings we have on a demo," Wilbur explains, "but mostly talking."

"Boringg," George exaggerates the word. "Do you at least have any like new, fun stuff?"

I roll my eyes at his childish response, but then lean closer to my monitor. I don't want to miss a single syllable of his answer to the question.

Wilbur clears his throat. "Mostly prewritten stuff, but there is one new song."

My body freezes in place. There is a new song, but who is it about? What if it's not about me at all?

"Can we hear?" George interrupts.

Wilbur chuckles uncomfortably. "Not sure about that one."

"Darn, oh well." George sighs. The call was getting awkward very fast.

"Well, I have to go," Wilbur mumbles, "Talk to you later."

"Bye," George and I say in unison.

It's quiet for a second.

"Alright, what the fuck was that?" George asks.

"What was what?" I try to act like that was a completely normal interaction.

"Ohh wow, that's so exciting," George mocks me, "That's cool. That's really awesome for you."

"Shut up." I rub my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up more. I haven't been awake long enough to deal with this.

"Something happened," George accuses.

I sigh, knowing I can't hide it from George any longer. "And what if something did?"

"Will you tell me if I guess?" George asks.

I roll my eyes. I doubt he could guess. "Sure."

"You got drunk and kissed. Something like that," George says almost immediately.

Or maybe he'll get the gist immediately.

"Well, not exactly." I try to deliberate if I should tell him about Lilly and Lucas. He's going to be with Wilbur and I next week. It would be better for him to know why it's awkward than to be out of the loop.

"Just tell me, Maia," George urges me.

I sigh before telling him, leaving out some mushy details on purpose.

"And then we said goodbye and walked back home," I say after I finish telling the story of the night. I don't say the confusing feelings part, especially after what happened last night. I don't want to give him anything that he could use against me for actually having feelings about someone.

"Dang, I want to meet Lilly," he says after a bit, "I could be my own alter-ego named, um, Luis."

My nose scrunches. "Don't think about that; it's weird."

"Then how come it wasn't weird with Wilbur?" George's tone has a hint of a knowing-smile.

I don't say anything. Why wasn't it a weird idea with Wilbur? Weren't we just friends before that night? What was different about my friendship with George and my friendship with Wilbur that made the idea sound okay? Is this just one of those things I can pin on the alcohol?

"Could it be because you have feelings for him?" George asks, reading my mind.

"Damn it, why are you always smarter than I think?" I let out a sigh.

"I knew it." George lets out a loud laugh. I turn his volume down on discord. "Tommy owes me ten pounds."

"What?" My head whips up to my monitor. "You bet on Wilbur and I?"

"Yeah, of course," George says as if it's the most obvious thing ever. "We all knew it would be eventually, but I said sooner rather than later."

"We're not together, George," I admit, "He said we were just friends."

"Oh." George's tone softens. "Well, you take your time with it, but personally I think you guys are soulmates of some sort."

I smile a bit. That's exactly what I've been thinking. It's just a matter of what kind of soulmates.

"And if you could decide before June, that would be great," George adds. "That's my deadline for the bet."

"Seriously George?" My voice is lined with the warning not to mess with me.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just ideal, but take your time."