After being at the bar for who knows how long— Wilbur hadn't even realized it was closing time. It was already 11:47pm, and most people had left or were leaving. He barely liked to check his phone when he left the house to go and drink, not wanting to be disturbed much by others. If he even got messaged during his time out.

He wasn't even sure what specific reason caused him to need to leave the house. He didn't often leave to go and get drunk. Usually he'd have vodka at home. Perhaps it was the desperate need for a chance of scenery to keep his mind at least wired in some way. Who knew what Wilbur really thought?

Wilbur hadn't noticed at all. Sat silently at the bar, vodka bottle in hand as he had his head resting into his hand. His eyes closed, completely unaware of anything around him. Which could sound bad but.. there were only about two people, the barista, and him. At least since everybody else had left for the most part. Not even realizing that the music had been turned down and wasn't playing loudly anymore.

Though the sound of glasses hitting brought him back to reality, a small incoherent murmur left his lips. Lifting his gaze from staring at the counter for a moment. His look seemed almost vacant. He wasn't one of those drunks who could barely form sentences, he could, his words were just a little slower than usual and his mind couldn't keep up with his mouth.