He's only a little confused by Hannah's words, but he pushes through. He's good at being a tutor, despite the fact that he doesn't really think Hannah needs it. (Her teachers expressed concern with her lack of focus, but her brain was plenty smart. Maybe the school just sucked at being attentive. Oh, well.)

"I know geometry can be confusing," he starts, tone kind, "but it's not the end of the world. It's just shapes, after all. Once you master the three big ones, everything else just kinda," he waves a hand in the air, "falls into place, y'know?" Pausing, he looks down at the workbook, pencil tapping against the table as he reads. "And you're not doing bad, by the way -- your answers are right."

no. it's definitely too late.

Chris would never pressure someone or push them to do something they don't want to and by the look in her wide eyed stare, he knows pushing isn't the answer here. He chuckles a little and settles into the cushioned seat, hands folded against his stomach as he slumps slightly in the chair, "Okay, okay. It's too late, roger that." He smiles as he looks back to the stage, eyes on the rendition of you can't stop the beat and the voice cracking making him wince slightly. He doesn't comment on it though. Speak poorly about someone trying their best? That wasn't in his nature. Maybe that made people think he was a fake and a fraud to some degree, but the truth was... Chris really just had good in his heart.

"So you're here for..." Chris starts despite backing off on the push to get Hannah to try out. He lets it trail off to hear what she's going to fill in the blank with. He assumes it's for crew, but he doesn't want to ask and be wrong. Especially, too, if she had specific crew pieces in mind. Set. Costuming. Lights. Stage Manager. Hey, she could be pretty good at that, he thought.

He was in Hatchetfield for this very reason, meeting and learning about Hannah Foster. He knew her sister was also powerful, but she wasn't nearly as knowing about what laid in her mind. Hannah though? Hannah knew she was special... strange perhaps, but special. She had a power like none other in Hatchetfield and there were plenty of kids her age that held similar abilities. They weren't exactly like hers, but they were special too and they were hidden away deep within the bowels of this town. All of them paid to be quiet on the upside and fighters on the inside-- money that came from Charles Coven and his little fighting ring. It was cute, truly... the disgusting dogs of Hatchetfield watching as powerful teens fought to prove themselves better than the others. They were all betting pools of wealth, but Wilbur? He was there to understand and analyze... he had to know which of these children would be problems in the future. Spitfire. Sophia. She was someone to look out for and he'd had a long conversation with Charles about being mindful of how powerful she was. Charles had first tried to dismiss him, but... Wilbur pulling the very gun from inside the man's jacket without moving across the room had him listening. He made it clear to Charles that this playground of his was just that and eventually something else would come along, something far more powerful looking to take control of these children and their abilities. He told the CEO to watch himself and let popularity run wild amongst the teens, money and power... they'd behave until they were being swallowed by something otherworldly. It had sparked questions, but Wilbur just tossed the gun towards Charles and wished him a good day before taking his leave.

But again, those teens with their showmanship powers were nothing compared to the likes of the Foster girl. There was something about her that made his God angry and ready to fight. But they couldn't fight until they knew what they were up against... so here he was to bring Hannah to the very ring he found amusement in. Putting her in with those others would give him and Wiggog the ability to know what she was capable of. He just had to figure out his approach... but he knew the best way to. He knew how to get into her head with ease because there was already someone there... a White Goddess with a power to annoy and frustrate her brothers. He just had to be louder than Webby. So he approached the girl late in the evening as she waited at the bus stop, denim clad figure coming around to where he could take a seat on the opposite end of the bench. He watched quietly as she opened her eyes, glancing his way then past him at the schedule beside his head. He chuckles a low sound and shifts to lean back against the back of the bench. He kicks his legs out and crosses them at the ankle, hand sliding into his jean pocket and other reach into the interior of his jacket. There's a pause but then he's drawing out an apple, crisp and green.

"You're going to be waiting a while for that bus," Wilbur says calmly, eyeing the apple then brushing it against his abdomen to clean it slightly with his shirt. He brings it back up and sighs, "So why not tell me, Hannah, when the last time you spoke to her?" He flicks his eyes towards her, frown touching his lips.

It's too cold to be out without a jacket, and even without looking directly at the apple the shade of green is so saturated it makes her head hurt. Maybe if he was only strange she would have left it at that, an anomaly. Hatchetfield is strange, and it would not be the first incident of strangeness that the girl turned her head away from whether at Webby's behest or her own. But he knows her name, and he knows Webby.

Something in her gut twists violently as she forces herself to look at him directly. Never in the eye, but taking him in more directly in spite of his wrongness. Even as she knows better than to engage, she can't help it, tugged by the invisible string of curiosity. "...how do you know my name?"

closed: @giftedtm where: high school auditorium

Miss Mulberry is stood on the stage introducing what will be the beginning of auditions noting how many students have shown up. She speaks highly and excitedly about it and it makes Chris grin. He doesn't know necessarily what part he's going to get, if any, but he's eager to audition and to see others shine on the stage. Chris is an enigma at times because he's aware of his talent, aware he's a triple threat on the stage, but he doesn't like to talk about it or make note of it. He'd much rather be praised for other pieces of his life such as being kind, understanding, and caring. Talents were ever changing amongst him and even his peers-- and though it was good to praise those talents... it was important to him to be known for more than those.

He watches as someone takes the stage, a junior he doesn't know. He listens momentarily as Miss Mulberry asks them a few leading questions before they break into song. Chris looks away though, eyes peeling to the side in order to catch Hannah Foster falling into a seat a little down the row he's in. He smiles gently and moves, lifting himself from where he's sitting and grabbing his bag so he can find himself in the seat beside the freshman. He sits down and sets his bag against his leg, shifting to sink a bit into the seat and lean over to speak quietly to Hannah, "You know, you could still get up there and actually audition for it..."