british accent · musician · mental health struggles · heavy drinker · kind · tall · yellow sweater · mature · realistic · self-care
The pub lights had softened to a dim glow, stretching shadows across the vacant tables. It was close to midnight. Wilbur leaned heavily against the bar, his slender fingers curled around the neck of a vodka bottle, its contents mostly gone. His head rested in his other hand, eyes shut, completely unaware the music had stopped and the crowd had vanished. The only sound was the careful clink of glassware being cleared. A low murmur escaped him as he stirred, lifting his gaze. His eyes were glassy and distant, fixed on nothing in particular. He looked exhausted, detached, yet somehow still there—his thoughts moving through molasses, his words trailing behind in the thick quiet of the closing hour.