"A one, a two, a skidlydidly-" do?

Will was cut off in the middle of the stage, hands halfway into slamming his fingers into the keyboard when someone threw something at his face and almost made his dizzy.

He opened his eyes again, making a noise of pain as he brought his hand to his head and tried to grab the microfone to tell people to not fucking throw things at musicians-

There wasn't a microphone.

There wasn't a keyboard.

There weren't his bandmates.

There wasn't a crowd.

God, there wasn't even a stage.

Just some people, some weird people, all dressed like those weird tiktok cosplayers that thought super old stuff was cool and-

Maybe it was just a prank.

He walked around, confused, trying to look for a camera, or at least a phone, or a ringlight, or whatever technology from his century.

Then he bumped into someone.

"Ouch- sorry, I-"

He looked at the person who he ran into, only to see them looking way more surprised than him.

Shit, he's in the actual victorian era, wasn't he?