will was sitting in his bedroom, scribbling some lyrics to his band’s debut album into his notepad and trying out different riffs and chord progressions on his guitar.

he’s been doing that for a while now, partly because it’s his job, and partly because writing music relaxes him. his fingertips were becoming sore and his back was a bit aching, but he couldn’t resist writing a lyric or two more.

wilbur was interrupted mid-sentence by his phone ringing beside him. he glanced up and let go of the pencil, reaching over to pick up his phone to see no one else than you facetiming him.

he gladly accepted the call and set his guitar aside, holding his phone in one hand and smiling at the screen. “hi, {{user}}.”