Wilbur stared at the screen, unsure of what exactly he was doing. He had imagined this day several times, sure, but that didn't prepare him in the slightest for the actual thing. It still seemed so surreal. Phil wasn't in the room, respecting his obvious discomfort with what was about to happen, even though it was Will's idea in the first place.

He could still remember the event like yesterday, yet it seemed like decades ago. He had accepted it. So why was recalling it so terrifying? Why couldn't he just face the fact that it had happened? Sighing into his hands, he repressed the urge to scream, worrying Phil wouldn't do him any good.

He knew both his friends and fans were waiting, the stream intro having occupied his and their screens for the past ten minutes. Why is this so hard? Glancing back at the computer, he stared down the mouse, as if daring it to click for him. No such luck. Rolling his eyes at his own shenanigans, he thought of all the excuses he could use for why he started so late. First you have to start the stream, idiot. Deciding to just commit, he quickly switched to his face cam, trying not to overthink it.

"Hi, chat," he greeted, smiling. "How are we doing, guys?" His eyes skimmed over the various messages being sent, most of which being a certain purple heart. "I hope you're all doing well, I'm certainly not, but that's okay. We'll figure it out," he continued, wiping his nose as he finished setting up the overlay. "There we go."

He paused, trying to gather his thoughts before he started his 'speech,' he really should've prepared something.

"Well, um, for those of you who don't know, this is the one year anniversary of..." he trailed off, trying to find a good title, "of- of that one stream, we all know what stream I'm talking about, right?" he asked with a chuckle, glancing down at his hands. "I- I struggled a lot, um, figuring out what I would do for this, and- and I decided that- that I would-" He swallowed, finding his thoughts. "I wanted to do something special. I wanted to do something that would- that would, not- not replace, but- but I guess add a lighter note to an otherwise terrible- um, terrible experience."

He paused, trying to find some semblance of resolve before he committed to this. The internet could be brutal.

"I'm- and I'm trusting you, chat- I'm going to do a Q&A. But- but," he stared into the camera, giving the audience 'the eye,' "before I turn on text to speech, um, I'm gonna give you a couple rules. First- first of all, if- if I don't answer your question, it's- it's probably because I don't want to, okay? Second, um, please- please just use fucking common sense, alright? Use your brain, don't ask anything crazy. Those are the only two things, okay? Not that hard, chat. Right?" He glanced at the messages flooding in, making sure they agreed. "Alright," he gave them a nervous smile, "Let's get started!"

Tubbo watched anxiously as Wilbur answered various questions asked by fans. Why the boy was anxious? He didn't know. If anyone had the right to be worried, it was the person who had just given more than a hundred thousand people access to text to speech, giving them permission to say pretty much anything. Bringing his fingers up to his lips, he refrained from biting his nails, a bad habit he had picked up from who knows where.

Tommy and Ranboo were in a call with him, also watching the stream, equally silent. All anticipating the next alert, signalling the next question. He had a feeling that most of the community was like this. Scattered throughout various calls with various people, all experiencing the bittersweet moment together. Better that than alone, he supposed.

Sapnap, Dream, Bad, and George all waited patiently for the next question, occasionally joking around to pass the time. They knew this was serious, and that it was a huge moment for Wilbur, but it was a coping mechanism for them. A way to... not necessarily ignore, but manage to accept what had happened to someone so young, so undeserving of the terrible experience.

Why had it been him? The question had been bugging Sapnap for a while. Not that he would wish that on anyone, but why, out of all of the people in the world, had it happened to Wilbur? What cruel sense of humor did fate have that it decided to put the boy in such a position?

Turning his attention back to the stream at the mention of his name, he realized with surprise that Will was talking about them.

"Yeah, um, Techno, Sapnap, George, Dream, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, Niki, Bad, um, everyone- everyone really. Uh, they- they have all helped me so, so much. Um, Phil as well, of course. They have been with me- with me every step of the way, and- and I appreciate it so much, like, genuinely. Um, I know you guys are probably watching this, and- and I want you guys to know that. And- and not just them, this- this entire community has been so supportive, and- and have made a huge difference in my life, so, thank you."

The group stared, shocked, at the screen. They were thousands of miles apart, yet, they had never felt so close. And they weren't the only ones. People who were in a chat with complete strangers suddenly felt like they were surrounded by friends. Brought together by chance. Because that's how relationships form. People, who used to be complete strangers, decided for some reason to connect. To talk and to learn about each other. They could become best friends, they could be enemies. Who knows?

That's the funny thing about fate, isn't it? Sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes both. Sometimes it's bad in the moment, but good in the long term. Sometimes it's just plain bad. Not all suffering is character growth, sometimes pain is just pain. That's the thing about life, it's not black and white, and that's the beauty of it. So, just keep living, and be ready for whatever card you draw next.