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poraphia · 1 year ago

Text

"A Heart-Shaped Necklace."

heartbroken!wilbur x newlywed!reader 1971 words • 8.11.23 cw ~ unrequited love, heartbreak, depictions of vomiting. Reader uses she/her pronouns! wilbur soot masterlist

I was going to give you a heart-shaped necklace after a gig in Paris, but you met your future husband, and it wasn't me.

♡♡♡

“Will, seriously, we don’t have to do this, mate.”

I clutched the brim of the toilet seat. The bottomless pit in my stomach served me no good other than throwing up what little breakfast I had this morning. My temples pulsed as I could do nothing but kneel over what disgusting mess I’d created before me. I shook my head, exhaling a shuddered sigh.

“I promised her. I promise we would perform…” I mumbled in a croaky voice. With what strength I could muster, I reached over to flush the toilet before standing up with wobbly knees. To prevent myself from stumbling I leaned against the stall’s wall, backing up a bit to unlock the door and to face my band mate.

There stood Joe. The man that agreed to ditch our previous band to start Lovejoy. The man that has seen me through every breakdown and tear to my heart when I would catch a glimpse of her face at my shows. The man that has been with me through thick and thin. He gave me a half-hearted smile, but it wasn’t enough to hide his furrowed eyebrows and eyes glossing with concern.

“Will–”

“Joe, please!” I begged. I brushed past him and made my way toward the sink, washing my face to fight back the nausea. “I just– want to be there for her, okay?! I want to give her the most perfect day possible. I want her to feel like– like she’s on top of the world! And if performing for her and–” I choked on my own words, stumbling in my nonsense. “H-her fucking shit husband.” I propped myself on my elbows, staring at my reflection before looking at Joe. “Then fucking fine! I don’t even give a shit about him?! I care about HER!” I shouted, slamming my fists onto the marble counter. “ITS FUCKING FINE!”

But who was I kidding?

I put my head down, clenching my jaw to avoid any sobs that would’ve dared to escape my lips. Joe, with careful steps, approached me, placing a hand on my back. My quickened breathing started to ease down. However, that painful ache in my chest that felt like boulders pressing down my body remained. If the weight were to suddenly manifest in front of me, with open arms I would’ve accepted its crushing embrace, accepting the sweet release of death.

Yet here I stand in the bathroom with my bandmate and friend crying over what loss I had no way of preventing.

I’ve loved (y/n) since our first gig.

We had been friends for a while before that, but I distinctly remember telling her that my first performance will be the next day, and within the same hour, she called off of work and made plans to drive all the way to Brighton to come see me. Once she made it, she brought us cold bottles of water and showed nothing but her undying support.

When we had finished the performance, she ran up to me, and with open arms I engulfed her in the biggest hug, mumbling bits of gratitude in her ear as she exchanged back with praises. I felt like the happiest man on Earth. Nothing could strip away what joy she brought me for she has seen me through scrapped lyrics and broken guitar strings.

I planned to confess to her on stage.

It was envisioned perfectly in my head. After our performance in Paris and the stage had been cleaned out, I would ask the stage crew if I could borrow the set for another hour. I bought roses, a mini stereo for us to listen to our favorite music, and a golden necklace to profess my love to her.

And oh, how I imagined her smile.

I was so giddy that day too. My heart was dancing in my chest and my energy reflected it like a mirror. I woke up early before everyone else despite the jetlag. I had the widest smile on my face each time I would brush my hand against my pocket, and there rested the velvet box which I shall present to her later. I told my bandmates my plan over soundcheck and they all cheered me on. There was not a single doubt she would say no.

That was until during the concert.

In the midst of me performing consequences, I searched among the crowd to find that face. That gorgeous face that would never leave my dreams. Eventually… I did find her. My eyes widened as I looked over to Joe, who caught the same sight as well. My heart, once pumping a lovesick melody, came to a stop and dropped onto the floor below me. There she was, with hands wrapped around the neck of a man I’d never seen. Their faces were just centimeters apart as those lips I only daydreamed of kissing were parted just for him. It felt like the world around me stopped moving, and despite the screaming crowd in front of me, I was only listening to an ear-ringing screech and my heart beating in my ears.

Painfully, I strained out,

“I’m yours. I’m yours! I’M YOURS!”

I liberated my pain and anguish in the final verse of The Fall. Thousands of fans screamed and cheered for me, but I was only met with lonesome. I looked over to (y/n) who was now clapping and cheering as well. The man still wrapped his arms around her.

I smiled at her, and she smiled at me back.

I didn’t dare to face her after the show. As soon as I left the venue I buried myself into hotel blankets and pillows as if this grief was pinning me down by the neck, choking me into this mattress as I lost all strength to get up. The next morning Mark noted that she was looking for me, but I shook it off.

It took me a while to even face her again. When she asked me what happened that night I lied through my teeth and told her I was sick for a long while and didn’t want her to get sick either. It took persuasion like a lawyer to convince her, but she accepted it in the end.

I took in a sharp inhale, and looked up to meet Joe’s gaze. He looked over at his watch. “We’re going to be going on in ten. Are you ready?”

I looked back at my reflection, squeezing my eyelids shut to blink away the tears. Every breath I took felt like a shudder. My voice only came out in weary croaks. But still, I stood up straight and looked back at Joe.

“Give me five minutes.”

With what sanity I had left, I freshened myself up by washing my face and pressing down my suit and tie. After some soft encouragements to myself and convincing myself that I look fine, I pushed open the door and was again met with the dim-lit reception littered in white floral decor. People were happily dancing under the shimmering disco ball. Friends and family were laughing with one another at different white rounded tables topped with bouquets. Chefs were working promptly as they dished out all sorts of fresh foods for the ravenous guests.

But what stood out the most was the bride and groom, (y/n) and Jared, sitting at a long white table by themselves. They smiled at each other lovingly, holding each other’s hands on the table with their new golden bands wrapped around their finger. I bit the insides of my cheek, having to rip my gaze off of the couple, and headed toward the small stage where we were placed. Mark and Ash exchanged worried glances at the sight of me.

“Will, are you—”

“I’m fine.” I quickly muttered to Mark. I looked over to Joe. He checked his watch before nodding toward me. Ignoring the worried exchange of glances from my bandmates, I tapped on the microphone, grabbing the reception’s attention. The DJ ushered down his music.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, we are Lovejoy.” I spoke in a low voice but forced a smile as I talked. “I’d like to, uh– congratulate the bride and groom over there. Hi guys.” I slightly waved to them as the guests cheered. (Y/n) grinned at me, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach. I looked down at my mic, determined to keep my focus.

“I’d like to especially thank (y/n). She’s been with me since we started this band, and I– I couldn’t be more thankful.” I looked back at her again, and there she was. Her stunning white gown was decorated with rhinestones. Her hair was styled beautifully, flowing gingerly with the soft AC cooling the venue. Her lips were colored subtly with a shade that matched her gentle skin.

What was missing was a pretty heart-shaped necklace that was supposed to be given to her after a performance in Paris.

I cleared my throat. “We’re Lovejoy, and this is Call Me What You like.”

I spent the next twenty minutes with the band as we performed various songs from our different EPs. My heart slightly ached with each song I shouted into the mic, knowing that most of these songs' meanings have changed over time. A breakup album dedicated to the United Kingdom? More like intense jealousy of wishing to get in between my friend’s healthy relationship because I’ve longed for her more than anything.

We were nearing the end of our performance, with our last song “It’s all futile, it’s all pointless.” A song that she loved even before the band began. A song that she would ask for me to play when she used to visit my apartment. A song she asked me to teach her as she sat between my legs with her back pressed against my chest and I would guide her hands and fingers from behind. I closed my eyes and talked through the lyrics. The noise soon started to drown out. No longer there was an audience in front of me with guitars and drums to accompany my vocals.

I was back at my old flat, and there (y/n) sat on my couch as I sat on the floor. I was smiling up at her with fingers pressed against steel strings with my thumb rhythmically strumming down.

“We’re getting to your favorite part.” I noted. She giggled, kicking her legs.

“I know!” She beamed.

“Ready?” I asked, scooting closer to her. She nodded. With voices harmonizing we sang the final run of the song. I couldn’t help but stare at her. How she closed her eyes while she sang. How she fiddled with a pillow in her lap with a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed, concentrating on getting the lyrics perfectly.

My only wish in this world is to drink in that look once again. To have a moment like that again.

I felt the tears pricking at my eyes as the memory fades out. The music and crowd crashed into my senses, and soon enough, I was back at this dreaded venue. With what passionate rage I had left, I belted out the final words. Her favorite part.

“Eat my rent!”

”and eat my food!” Her faded voice echoed back.

“And eat my dues–!

“and eat those kids!” I screamed out the last words, straining what little voice I had left, letting the tears roll down my cheeks and onto my blazer. The band riffed into intensity as I felt the inside of my pocket again, the box still there. The guitars, the bass, the trumpet, and the drums, all halting to an end–

I looked up and smiled at her.

“And maybe use a sextant.”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ angsty hehe. this is my fav fic so far. reblogs are appreciated :D!!

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