Every band had different needs, and every musician had different preferences.
Will's solo act had gone down to London all by himself; he was a solo guitar player and didn't need much help. Shane's Will was still very much a work-in-progress, but he had been recruited for his musical talents.
Bitchcraft, on the other hand, was a different story. While Will had provided the wolves with some instruments as a Christmas gift, his services weren't in demand as a musician -- at least, that had been the impression he had gotten from talking to the Wolves as they had plinked and plunked their way through practices. In all honesty, Will was a little surprised they were performing anyway; he had begun to suspect "being in a band" was a euphemism for euphemistic activities, one they didn't particularly need a fourth wheel for
anyway, but hey -- everyone can be wrong on occasion!
That's not to say Will wasn't
involved. As part of their olive branch after one of the (far too many, he must admit) times he went off the reservation, Sam had expressed
at least some interest in getting some help for the whole look and
feel of the band defined. They hadn't spoken of it since then -- they had both been through Some Shit, and Will wasn't even 100% sure Sam remembered that conversation. But, still, not only did it give him a chance to be useful, it also was a good excuse to spend time with some of his favorite people on campus and listen to some sweet tunes. Hard to pass that opportunity up, at any rate.
All of this went a short ways to explaining why Will was in the room the Wolves shared, rummaging through their closets as if he had been invited to do so. Standing in the corner of the room were three mannequins, each shaped like one of the three members of The Pack, with various jackets, jeans and belts looped around, as Will looked over them with a critical eye. He tsked, flipped through a notepad, and scratched somethings out, making some doodles, as he went.
((Open to people who would have a reason to be there!))