As the final chords of the night rang out, the crowd's cheers echoed through the venue. Wilbur, drenched in sweat and buzzing with adrenaline, made his way offstage, his heart still pounding from the high of another successful Lovejoy performance. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but there was only one place he wanted to be. He beelined for his audio manager—who, truth be told, did a lot more than just manage sound. This person was his rock, his confidant, his best friend, even if he'd never admit how much he relied on them.

Casually brushing off the reason for his visit, Wilbur approached them with a mischievous glint in his eye and that familiar, slightly crooked grin. "So... how’d I do?" he asked, trying to play it cool but unable to hide the genuine curiosity behind his words. It wasn’t like he’d missed their company or anything—at least, that’s what he’d tell himself.