May I Have This Dance?(Phan)

Bad Idea

A/N: OHMYGOSH IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH MY SCHOOL PLAY I PROMISE I'LL GET ON A BETTER SCHEDULE AFTER THE PLAY IS OVER~tato

Phil's P.O.V.

"So, Chelsea seems nice," I said. Dan laughed.

"Kind of. She can get really bossy if you step out of line," he said.

"Well, I guess I'd better go. Are you gonna come with?" I asked.

"Sorry, I can't. In a couple days, I'll pick up my stuff from my house and then drop by. But, thanks anyway," he said sadly.

"Ok then. I'll see you tomorrow!" I said as I left the studio. I quickly hailed a taxi, and they took me to my flat.

Dan's P.O.V.

I stuck around my room in the studio to pick up some of the mess. There was sheet music everywhere, plus some other things left by my students: a couple hoodies, a purse, and a pair of sneakers. I texted mum that I would be home at around 6:30 because I was cleaning up.

~

After I'd got a taxi and arrived home at 7:00 because of traffic, I unlocked the door and turned the brass knob. Yet again I heard thumping music and shouting voices in the basement. I went into the kitchen, and sure enough, mum was there, reading a magazine, with an empty plate in front of her. There was a chicken breast sitting at my place. I sat down, and didn't bother picking up my fork. I knew what was coming.

"Hello Daniel."

"Hey."

"So, I notice you're later than expected."

"And?" I asked nonchalantly.

"And," she said, smacking her magazine shut, "you didn't tell me ahead of time you would be this late! I was worried you were in danger."

"Well, I wasn't, ok?!" I said, getting annoyed.

"You were hanging out with that Phillip boy, weren't you?" she asked. I reddened.

"No, I was cleaning up the studio! I told you that!" I said, a little too loud.

"Firstly, do not yell at me. Secondly, I don't believe that little 'I'm cleaning up' story," she said as she rose from her seat. I tried not to flinch.

"Why?"

"I believe that you're, you know, turning the other cheek, so to speak. I think," she said as she strode over to me, "you have feelings for Phil." I blushed again. Did I have feelings for Phil? I wasn't sure. Mum grabbed ear, interrupting my thoughts. She dragged me to the couch.

"Sit down. And STAY down." she said coldly. Mum walked over to the window, removed the curtains, and grabbed the curtain rod. Walking back towards me, she gripped the pole like a baseball bat. She came over and started slamming my right leg with the pole. Wincing in pain, I tried to get up and get away. Mum hit my chest, hard. I reluctantly sat down again. The hitting began again, the agonizing pain stinging more and more each time she struck. Finally, after about 30 whacks, the hitting stopped.

"Go upstairs. Now." I stood up, but yelped when I put pressure on my right leg.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," mum said as she walked into the kitchen. I started my way up to the stairs, limping. When I finally made it up the stairs, I was almost in tears because of the unbearable sensation. I collapsed on my bed, and wiped my eyes. Grabbing my phone, I found Phil's contact.

"Phil. Come here now. I need to get to the hospital."