Everything's Changing

9 - Dan

It had been a week since Phil and I had posted our video telling the fans that we were together. Nothing had changed, not really. Some people had been angry about it, but everyone else was happy for us. Our lives were just as they had been before, except now I had Phil. He was all mine, and I didn’t have to pretend we were ‘just friends’ to anyone.

Chris and PJ were probably the happiest for us. They didn’t leave us because it got awkward at our place, in fact they started spending even more time with us. Chris had even told Phil and I that he was going to tell PJ that he liked him. Everything the fans had said months ago was finally coming true, I suppose. All of that bloody fanfiction that used to annoy me now brought me joy, knowing I didn’t have to delete it from my browser history every time anyone came over.

~ 3 months later ~

I walked up to the door of the small coffee place down the street that Phil and I usually met at on Wednesday afternoons. I didn’t see him at any tables, so I ordered two coffees and sat down at a booth. I took a few sips, then set it down as I saw PJ walking in with a horrified expression on his face.

“PJ? What’s wrong?” He walked over to the booth and sat down across from me.

“It’s...” he looked away, thinking. “It’s Phil. He’s...” PJ looked me straight in the eyes as he continued, his voice filling with a sob. “He’s dead. Phil’s dead,” he finished, and started crying uncontrollably.

“No,” I said. I refused to believe what PJ had just said. “He’s not...” I said, shaking my head. “He’s not dead. He can’t be,” even though I didn’t want to believe it, I could feel the hot tears stinging my eyes and making my face warm.

“We found him. We went to your place and when we looked around for him, he was dead in the bathroom. I don’t know why, nothing was wrong, but he just...” he trailed off, yet I knew how his sentence would end. Phil had killed himself. My Phil. Phil was dead. And there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t run home to comfort him.

And the only person I wanted to cry to about Phil dying, was Phil. I had lost my one true confidant, the one person who understood me.

“Are you alright?” PJ said, putting his strong hand over mine.

“No,” I said honestly. I didn’t think I’d ever be ‘okay’ again.

“I want to say it will get better,” he said, rubbing my hand reassuringly.

“But it won’t,” I replied, and sank back into the booth, wanting to disappear myself.

“I’m sorry. Want to come over to our flat?”

I agreed, and he drove me to his place, where Chris greeted us with a sad smile at the door.

I didn’t honestly believe that things would get better without Phil, but for now, I would have to carry on being Dan Howell, and put a smile on my face, for the fans.

*** A/N - I apologize. I thought this would be happy okay? Whoops. I've turned into Moffat.***