"Bills to Pay, Blood to Spill," 2010!Phan, Dan's POV, angst-ish
DAN'S POV
Phil and I had known for a while already that we were struggling with paying the bills. I mean, sure, YouTube pays you if you have a partnership, but it's such a hard income to live off of. We have each other, so we pool our incomes, it seems to tie us down. It's hard, though. Thankfully we've been getting more from opening the store, but even still, a few five pounds every now and then doesn't make much of a difference. I just didn't think it would be this bad.
This issue seemed to particularly bother Phil this morning. He was hunched over at the table, jabbing the calculator as he crunched some numbers. I was almost scared to ask what was wrong from how angry he looked, but I came over anyways and put a loving hand on his shoulder. "Phil," I asked quietly, "is something the matter?"
Phil jumped up from his paperwork, startled. He let out a breath he apparently had been holding this whole time when he finally saw it was me, and stood up to give me a hug. "Good morning," he said in a gruff voice. "Nah I'm fine, just been paying the bills." I nodded and went over to the cabinet to take out a mug. "Want me to make you a fresh mug of tea?" I offered. "Yes please," Phil said, not taking his eyes off the numbers.
Phil said not a word to me as I prepared the teas. He just kept adding and subtracting, rubbing his nose so hard I thought it would blister. Finally he got up and went into his room, slamming the door behind him. "Phil!" I called, but decided to look at the pages instead.
Wow. No wonder he was upset... we were in debt. Surely that wasn't too bad... but it got worse... page after page showed negative numbers in red ink. I started to hyperventilate. This was too much too handle; tears started streaming down my face. Would I have to get a real job? I didn't want to leave the comfort of my home. Would we be evicted from this place? What would happen to our YouTube channels? I collapsed in the chair at the table and began to weep. My life began to crumble all from some debt. How were we ever going to pay it off? Surely we'd have to skip meals just to pay it all... I never knew how deep in it we were. It felt like shitty quicksand.
"Dan," I heard Phil whisper. He was standing in the doorway, looking very small. I jumped up and threw my arms around him. "It's so bad," I mumbled between sobs. Phil nodded and rubbed my back. "I... I didn't want you to see, didn't want you to get this way," Phil said. I pulled back. "You should have told me! I wouldn't have blown my money on treats when I could have been saving it for bills!" I cried. Phil looked hurt. "I was trying to prevent you from getting into such a wreck..."
"Like I am now?"
"Yeah."
Phil sat down at the table and I sat down across from him. After a few moments of silence, I reached for Phil's hand, all the way across the world at the other end of the table. Phil looked up at me. "What are we going to do?" I said softly. Phil brushed away a tear with his other hand and squeezed mine with care. "I'm not sure, but we'll get through this, I promise."
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Phil sent me out to look for a part-time job, so I was now on my way into town to look for work. He was back at the house trying to put some of our things up for sale. I asked him to sell as much as he could, but spare our cameras. We were desperate, but I wasn't about to give up YouTube.
I came back, three hours later, completely exhausted and without luck. Fourteen people I asked about a job... almost half of them said no, five said they'd call me back, one said there was a long list of applicants, and one looked so creepy I turned around and left.
Phil sighed. "Well, at least someone might call you back," he said. I sighed too, and sit down next to him. Phil leans into me, and I don't think anything of it until I hear some sniffles. "Phil?" I say, turning to look. And there was Phil at his all-time low. A big blubbering mess of snot and failure. Phil looked so fragile, I almost didn't want to touch him to shatter what was already broken, but of course, I'm his friend, so I wrap him up in the biggest hug I can muster. I'm really bad with sob stuff like this, and Phil knows that. He wraps his arms around me back anyways. "I'm so sorry, Dan," Phil manages, "but I think we're going to have to leave the apartment until we can pay." That's when I start to cry too, and we remain there, bawling our eyes out like babies for ages.
The overwhelming sadness is the only thing I remember before I fell asleep.
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I wake up the next morning feeling emotionally drained and extremely hungry, but first things first is to go into the bathroom.
I get into the shower, trying to wash off all the misery, but no luck. The haunting reminder that we'd have to leave by the end of the week keeps looming closer and closer.
After I finish my shower, I go into the living room, to find Phil packing things away in boxes. "I went out this morning," he says, his voice shaking, "went out early this morning to buy some storage boxes." My lip quivers but I go over to help him. Maybe bring some comic relief? I pick up a stuffed Totoro and bring it over to Phil. "Hey Phil... hey, hey Phil, hey... Totoro thinks you're a nerd," I say with a smile, but Phil barely bats an eye. I frown and put Totoro in the box.
We're falling apart.
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It's our final day in the apartment. Phil and I made a goodbye video and posted it to my channel. I also found Phil once hugging his house plant and crying. Phil and his bloody house plants.
But now it's 10 PM, and we're watching TV. Well, I mean, I am. Phil's on his computer, typing madly. His fingers are flying across the keys and his tongue's poking out in focus. What on earth is he doing?
I ignore it. He's probably planning something out.
Finally, with a sigh of defeat, he slowly closes his laptop and sets it down on the table. "Tough luck?" I ask. Phil nods silently and lays his head on my shoulder. "It feels so wrong," he says softly. I reach for his hand and squeeze it reassuringly. At least we'd have each other through this.
All hope seems to be lost until Phil's phone rings. He answers it shakily. "Hello?"
Then he jumps up and beams.
"What? What is it?!" I ask, jumping up too. Phil nods and nods, saying "Yeah" every now and then. Finally he ends the phone call with an excited "Thank you, you too."
Then he turns to look at me. "That was the radio station."
I nod, unsure of where exactly this is going.
"They said we're going to have our own radio show every Sunday, Dan," Phil says breathlessly. Then he throws his arms around me, this time happily.
That's when it hits me.
I start shouting with joy and hug Phil back tightly. "Yes! This is so awesome!" I yell. Phil whoops with excitement and starts jumping around, laughing.
We're saved.
