"Dad, please? I'm serious! I wanna play!" Wilbur pleaded at his father side once more as the man was trying to finish up the dishes.

"Wilbur, I've already told you we can't afford a guitar right now. Even if you 'really really mean it'." His father sighed having listened to the same set of pleas for the better part of the week.

Wilbur had come to both he and his wife one day after school insisting that he just needed a guitar. While it had been true that his oldest child had shown great interest in music for some time, it wasn't a purchase they could make easily. Not only that, but it wasn't one they could make just to have the item in question bashed around for a few days and then forgotten from either boredom or frustration.

"But!" Wilbur started again, no doubt with a fresh argument about why it was, in fact, 'needed' in his life.

"Wil." Phil cut him off, picking up the drying towel to wrap his hands in while he turned to look at his son, "I've given you my answer and your mother agrees. Begging more and more isn't going to get you anything."

Wilbur stared up at his father with a wavering pout, his lower lip trembling as his eyes began to water. This time Phil couldn't tell if it was for show or not either.

"Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay?" He asked, Wil perking up at least to some degree at that, "One year."

He pauses, giving his son time to take in that bit of information first.

"In one year, if you still 'really really need' a guitar in your life, we will consider it."

Wilbur's face broke into a wide and excited smile that had Phil instantly raising a hand towards him.

"Not 'get you one right away' mind you. I said 'consider it'. Okay?" He reiterated before the boy could go off with a half baked promise never fully made.

He'd learned to clarify specially after three instances of 'promised cookies for dinner' almost got him in trouble with his wife.

None the less Wilbur was nodding his head and lurching forwards to wrap his arms around his father's waist.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I'll be good and everything." Wilbur rushed out as he smiled up at his dad.

"Well, lets not go making promises you can't keep." Phil teased him before giving a small 'boop' to his noise, "Now, go find your brother's and make sure they are getting ready for bed. Your mother is going to be home soon for bedtime."

Xx-xx-xx

In the follow weeks Wilbur made mostly good on his promise of 'being good'. Though that was mostly due to him spending an absurd amount of time talking to his brothers about all the songs he was going to learn once he had a guitar of his own. He pulled up videos on the computer and played along on an air guitar and hummed out tunes while doing homework and chores.

It was honestly adorable, though it made Phil feel a bit guilty as well. He couldn't just promise Wilbur something as expensive as an instrument even if he wanted to. Seeing his son so happy over the mere idea of one made that sting just a little worse.

Wilbur, like most nine year old kids, had interests that burned bright for a while before fading into the next big thing. But so few things before had made him this happy. It was like, he just clicked with it in a way his prior interests hadn't. It was a joy that was contagious too as Tommy would happily join the invisible band with Wil, wiggling around in an excited dance. Even Techno would hum along at times despite his usual shyness when it came to his voice.

That was why, when his wife came to him with an idea Phil was all for it. Kristin's brilliance never failed to astound him.

Now, here he sat, drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen doorway and watching as Kristin and Wilbur were making a guitar out of shoe-boxes and rubber-bands. Techno had opted to make a drum which he and Tommy were now bashing away on.

The smile Wilbur wore as he lifted his mostly finished product off the table was almost enough to split his face in half.

"This is going to be so cool. Could you teach me how to play something on it?" He asked excitedly to his mother.

"Well, I can't play anything myself. But, I can look up playing tutorials with you." She nodded with a chuckle, "We have to finish building it first."

"Can we paint a whale on it? Then I could name it after Jubilee." Wilbur replied as he placed his creation back in front of him on the coffee table.

"Wont that get confusing? Having two things named 'Jubilee'?" His mother asked with a slightly raised brow.

"But, all the good musicians name their instruments." Wilbur insisted.

"I'm not saying not to name it. I'm only saying that it might be best to pick something unique. So it stands out." His mother explained as she worked the next rubber band into place.

Wilbur tilted his head at this as he considered it.

"No need to rush it right now if you need time to find a good name. Its always an option to wait until the right one finds you." His mother stated as she started on the last band for the homemade instrument.

"I'm going to call my drum 'The Baby'." Techno stated with a mischievous grin.

" 'The Baby'? Why that, Techno?" Phil called over to him with a furrowed brow.

"Cus me and Tommy are gunna 'hit The Baby." Techno laughed as he brought his hand hand hard on the stretchy top.

It made a twanging thud noise that had Tommy letting out a squeal at as he slapped it as well.

"Hit da baby." Tommy repeated with glee as he continued to bang away at the drum.

" Techno, No. You are not calling it that." Their father wheezed, almost dropping his coffee mug as he tried not to laugh too hard.

Wilbur and Kristin were likewise having a hardy laugh, though unlike Phil, neither were trying to keep it contained. Techno looked proud of himself and Tommy smiled wide at his ever so happy family. He swat at the drum some more, looking back at their beet red and grinning faces and assumed it was all for him.

It took a fair minute or two for the family to regain themselves. Phil moved into the room fully and took a seat beside his younger boys, planning to help form a different name for the drum. While it was funny in the house, he couldn't avoid the feel of dread at the thought of any of his children saying they were going to 'hit the baby' out in public for whatever reason they could come up with. With the chaos the two already created it was a fear he had rightfully developed.

"Is it done yet?" Wilbur asked his mother, now that his residual giggling had subsided.

He was watching eagerly from her side as she made the final adjustments on the final bands, giving the creation a once over. He was practically shivering in place with his eagerness and she couldn't help the smile that formed on her face. He was so open and expressive with his joy that it was rather contagious and she loved him ever so much for it.

When she looked back at him with an equally eager and happy smile she didn't even need to verbally answer him before he was bouncing up out of his sitting position and reaching out with grabby hands. It honestly made him resemble Tommy for a moment and Kristin had to hold in her chuckle at the thought. Wilbur didn't notice though, far too focused on obtaining the cardboard instrument.

It consisted of a shoebox, the core from a roll of paper towels and rubber-bands. There were a few small things Kristin had added on to make it feel more 'real', but other then that she left it plain for Wilbur to decorate as he saw fit. He'd already drawn a few things on the body while they had waited for the glue to dry earlier on the 'neck'. But aside from that it was still a blank canvas more or less.

None of that matter to Wilbur right now though. Right now his only thought was to hold the shoebox body to his own and to strum down the rubber chords. They released a snappish twang that had Wil's face lit with an ecstatic joy that had his smile nearly splitting his head in two.

"Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You-" Wilbur rattled off as he rushed in for a strong hug, almost knocking Kristin backwards from the force.

"Of course, Wilbur." She laughed as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him just as tightly back before adding a light warning, "Careful not to be too rough with it."

At that Wilbur leaned back, glancing at his newest most precious belonging. The instrument was already slightly crooked from when he kept messing with it during the initial glue drying, but other then that it still looked fine. He had managed to hold it just away enough during the hug that it hadn't been crushed, which had him sighing in relief inside.

"Can I go play it? Can I?" Wilbur asked, eyes practically bursting with his newly unmatched enthusiasm.

"Of course you can. Its yours now." His mother nodded, reaching out to pat at his wild curls which were bouncing with his every motion.

"Just keep in mind lunch is going to be ready soon. It's your turn to set the table." Phil stated as he absently bopped his own hand onto Techno's drum for Tommy's amusement.

"I can set it now and then-" Wilbur started before being cut off with a raised hand from Phil, the 'parental pause' button.

"No setting up early. You're going to have to balance time between playing and doing your chores just like before." Phil stated plainly.

"It's no different from before, Wil. You just need to keep the time in mind. We'll call you like usual, but no putting it off." Kristin agreed.

Their boys were usually good about chores and such. However, they were young and easily could vanish into their own little worlds. With this she could easily see Wilbur struggling to maintain chore balance for a while. Which was fine. It was another part of growing up and she and her husband were patient. They trusted their kids, as smart and clever as they were distractable, to find a balance that worked for them.

Wilbur let out a short annoyed huff but nodded all the same. His defeated expression didn't linger at all long before he was grinning again, letting a hand strum down the body of the Ukulele. The fake rubber tones bringing him joy as if it were the genuine article.

Xx-xx

The noise was constant.

Absolute.

It was either the strumming twang of rubber 'strings', or the popping noise of them breaking followed shortly by a call from Wilbur to whatever parent was closest.

Don't get Phil wrong. He loved his kids dearly. He did. He loved them and their hobbies. However, trying to focus on work when the sounds wildly strummed rubber was snapping against thin cardboard and echoed through the house…it was like he could feel his sanity chipping away piece by piece. He knew he wasn't the only one either.

On more than one occasion Phil had found Techno, or had heard the resulting argument between the boys, hiding the torture device that his wife had made for their eldest. Wilbur had decorated it now and called it 'Boxulele', making him only more protective of it. It had been hidden, or attemptedly hidden, so much now that whenever Wilbur couldn't easily find it the younger was sought out.

Kristin, as much as she didn't regret making the thing, had never been more relieved when having work outside the home. Half of the time she truly enjoyed listening to Wilbur practice and having fun, just as her husband did. However, for the other half part of her would wish that something of interest would pop up, at least for a short while. The longest grace periods they had outside of bedtime and school were the occasions where a band broke. She didn't have the heart to not fix it, but that didn't mean she didn't drag her feet to do so every few times.

The only one in the house that didn't seem to mind was Tommy. Though, that was probably less true than it appeared. He still had his moods after all and it was hard to say what was triggering what. Though, when Wilbur was close enough to him or when Tommy managed to seek him out while the other was playing the youngest boy always was reaching for the instrument. On one occasion he'd managed to get to it while Wilbur had gone to the bathroom, slamming his pudgy little hand down on it like it was a drum. Wilbur had been less than pleased when he returned and the resulting 'scolding' he gave Tommy for it landed him with his own punishment.

Boxulele had been put on shelf that day and everyone had been relieved aside from Wilbur.

X-

Understandably, then, Phil was more than a bit dread filled when he saw his wife come home with a small case printed with the local music stores logo. It was small and child sized and the beaming expression on his wife's face meant it was either a really good purchase or something even more chaotic than her first 'solution'.

The boys had been in the living room when she'd come in. Wilbur, of course, had been 'practicing' a new song that Techno was supposed to be judging for him. By the look on the younger boys face it…wasn't going to be a good review. However, at seeing their mother and noting the item in her hand halfway through their greeting she received a mix of responses.

At first it was a look of relief from Techno, before it shifted into one of almost defeat at the sight of the case. From Wilbur it started off with a usual happy smile before morphing into something bubbling with energy. He was bounding off the couch to greet her while Techno lagged behind.

It wasn't long before the family as a whole, minus Tommy who was currently down for a nap, was surrounding the kitchen table. The new item was placed on top of it with Kristin facing the eldest child. Wilbur was bouncing on his heels excitedly as he looked between her and the case.

"I know its almost Techno's birthday and all, but-" She started off with, giving a look to Techno briefly before going on, "With how much you've been practicing so far and with how much your ukul-"

"Boxulele' Wilbur corrected with a proud grin.

"'Boxulele'" Kristin corrected with a smile and a short nod, "-has been breaking. Well, this just seemed to make sense."

She moved the case so that the latch on the side was facing Wilbur.

"Go on." She encouraged with a hand motion towards it.

She hardly needed to though as he was eager to pop it open an see what was inside. Phil laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze and she could tell he was anxious. Which was fair. She'd talk with him later about it, though she figured that in a moment some of his worry would put to rest.

Inside the case was a small plastic body Ukelele. It had a rounded out body that was designed to look like a coconut and the neck was colored to be a straw going into it. The strings on it were pale, almost clear looking and, by a best guess, were also plastic, or something similar.

Wilbur wasted no time in taking it out, running his hand down its body, and then pressing it against himself. His brother and father tensed, waiting for the coming noise while his mother just looked at him with her usual 'I'm happy for you' smile.

His hand came down.

The notes that came out were…muted. At least in comparison to what Wilbur was used to. The nylon of the strings was far more pleasant to hear than the rubber had ever been, and it was also far quieter. It also hurt his fingers a bit less too.

Techno beside him let out the breath he had been holding, his body visibly relaxing at the new sound. Where 'Boxulele' had grated his nerves and gave him headaches, this one…It sounded far more relaxing. Much closer to those learning videos his brother had been watching and 'learning' from. He could see himself getting used to this sound.

Phil's own sigh was more audible and Kristin could only imagine how much his shoulders had just relaxed as well. The hand on her shoulder squeezed twice before he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She'd done good and she knew it. The other worries he might have over it could be talked about later and easily settled she was sure.

X-

Wilbur wasn't dumb. He knew his family weren't exactly a fan of 'Boxulele'. But, that was all the more reason he needed to practice as much as he could. If he could learn how to play quickly then they wouldn't hate it so much. He'd be able to play songs for them for real and they wouldn't wince or cringe or scowl. He could play and they would enjoy it and he could make them happy with something that made him happy.

But, he had to fully admit, and he would, that his new ukulele, 'Cocolele', was superior. It rested better against his side, the neck didn't bend when he held it too long and the strings didn't snap at his fingers if he strummed too quickly. The best thing though, was that when he played his family didn't seem to frown quiet so deeply anymore.

When he asked Techno to listen his brother didn't fight him on it as much, nor did he try to hide the instrument in question. His mother didn't have that strained smile on her face that made her eyes crinkle wrong when he showed her what he managed to learn so far. His father didn't shout down the hall for him to practice outside for a bit when he kept at it for 'too long'.

Though that last part Wilbur hadn't fully minded so much. The weather was nice enough out and playing outside was always relaxing. Sure the yard was small and odd shaped, and sure they weren't normally allowed outside without supervision. But as long as the door, or a window now since Tommy was more mobile, was cracked open for their father to hear from, it was fine. Or, fine enough. It might have been an acceptance of desperation, but Wilbur was going to keep rolling with it.

Currently Wilbur found himself sat outside the sliding door, sitting beside it so that he could be heard from his parents inside, and also make sure Tommy didn't sneak out. He was trying a set of chords his mother had helped draw on the body of 'Cocolele' , in marker so it could be washed off later. It was a simple set, but he wanted it to be perfect.

Techno's birthday was coming up soon and he wanted to be able to play something for his brother. His brother had already opted out of having any sort of party this year. Wil wasn't surprised. Techno hadn't been too happy with the one he had last year, though that was probably due to having to invite classmates he wasn't familiar with. It was a whole big thing that both their parents had agreed on never putting their son through again. Any of their sons.

That meant they were going to do a small sort of family thing instead and Wilbur was eager to play something special for him for it. So far Techno didn't seem to know, which was good. Wil wanted it to be a proper surprise.

He ran his hand down the strings again and wrinkled his nose. Looking down at each finger he adjusted them and tried again….still not right.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked from nearby and making Wilbur jump at the noise.

Snapping his head up and peering around Wilbur spotted the source. Off on the right side of the yard, on the other side of the fence and a few feet away, was a person. Well, a kid really. They were just about a full head taller than the fence itself, which came to Wilbur's chest at this point.

From what he could see of the other he had sandy brown hair that sat like a loose wind swept mess on his head. He had a happy yellow smiley sticker stuck to his left cheek and wore a light lime t-shirt that looked either old or slightly tie dyed. It was hard to tell at their distance.

The two stared at each other for a moment before the other furrowed his brow at Wilbur at his continued silence, tilting his head as well. It seemed to remind Wil to use his words though instead of just gazing at him.

"I'm playing the Ukulele." He stated plainly.

Where had this kid come from? Why was he in the alleyway beside his house?

"That's not what is sounds like to me." The boy stated in a matching tone.

At this Wil only grew more confused, his own head titling to the side to match the other, his brow furrowing for good measure.

"What do you mean? I'm clearly playing it right now."

The boy only gave a wide grin before opening his mouth again.

"It sounds like you're killing it to me." The boy said with a confidence.

Wilbur's mouth dropped opening instantly as an indignant gasp left him.

"You little-" Wilbur started to shout at the other before he was cut off.

"You should have heard him with the last one." Techno laughed out from his place in the partly opened door.

Wilbur rapidly turned to face him, mouth agape once more. One, because his brother had just insulted him greatly, and two, because he'd just spoken aloud to a stranger. True, they were in their own home still and probably out of sight from the other, but still.

Techno was laughing still, as was this new and strange boy across from the fence. Wilbur could do nothing bit sit between them and suffer the burning red that had taken over his face.

If that was how his brother felt then…then maybe he'd just…not play around him then. At least until he could…really play something.