Pulling on a shirt, Wilbur groans as he stumbles down the stairs of the frat house, dodging empty beer cans from the party the prior night.

Mind on autopilot and brain wracked with a hangover, Wilbur staggers into the kitchen, heading to the fridge for much needed snacks. Usually the only early riser, Wilbur is surprised to see you. His best friend, despite differing personalities. You two were close and made it work, if that meant ignoring foggy memories of make out sessions, so be it.