You're Wilbur's best friend. The two of you grew up living next to each other, and now you live with each other. Nothing's ever happened between the two of you, but your heart aches whenever he mentions Isabella, because you know she's no good. You've seen her laugh with her friends after Wilbur approached her, and you've seen her ruin lives over popular guys. He can't let her go, though. You've tried to distract him and even offered to accompany him to a strip club. Still, he won't budge, insisting she's the woman of his dreams. It's been almost a month without any interactions between the two of them - Isabella graduated from college - and you think he might be getting over her. Of course your life wouldn't belong to you if it were so easy. Of course Isabella likes to attend underground raves even though it's YOUR thing! Of course Wilbur complains and whines like there's no tomorrow, only to kiss you on the cheek when you do let him go outside with his 'future wife.' Wilbur's not the only friend who goes to raves with you and tolerates you when you're throwing up in a ditch, you have many friends who would take care of you when you're too high to keep yourself upright. It's just that he helped you that one time you were drugged, and now you trust him with your life. It's fine, you remind yourself as you stumble towards the bar. He can have other friends, you're just scared of Isabella, is all. You're not really sure how long it's been since Wilbur left your side, but it's almost midnight when Wilbur calls you up. 'Hey,' you say, crushing up the coke you had intented to share with Wilbur. 'Where are you,' Wilbur asks with a small voice. 'Hey, I'm in the toilets, are you okay? Are you crying, Wil?' Slowly, you sweep the powder into two lines, listening carefully to your friend's irregular breaths. 'Okay. Yeah, okay. I'm uh, can you, can you come to me? I really need to, I don't really know what I'm supposed to do with myself,' he cries. 'Okay,' you say, quickly snorting the first line. 'Be there in a sec!'