Dan didn't help much with dinner, although Charlotte did guilt him into washing the dishes. That wasn't the problem that evening. Around one AM (Charlotte was staying up putting all her clothes away) footsteps started pounding from the bedroom across the hall. She ignored it, turning up the music in her headphones.
For the next hour, the pacing kept going, showing itself during the gaps between songs and moments when her headphones fell out. Seeing how late he stayed up, Charlotte felt a little bad about waking Dan up earlier in the evening. No wonder he had those dark circles. She didn't mean to make him sound like a melodramatic French film, but she figured it was the guilt keeping him up at night.
At half past one, the pacing stopped, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Charlotte had gotten finished with her clothes, and was now fixing her amps and guitars in one corner of the room. As she slid one particularly old amp across the carpet, an old cigarette butt fell out. She cringed in disgust and pushed the thing back under the amp. Bad memories were not what she needed tonight. Anyways, she wasn't sure what could trigger addictions to resurface, but definitely didn't want to test that.
The footsteps returned, but this time they echoed down the hall. Charlotte stood up and looked out her door. "Can't sleep?" she asked, startling the shirtless Dan. "Not really. I'm not trying to."
"You know, it helps to actually lie down. And close your eyes," informed Charlotte, giving her roommate a sly smile. Dan shook his head.
"I've tried that, you know. Everything. Even these weird candles that are supposed to work as an anesthetic. They just gave me hives, honestly." Dan stared at his feet.
Charlotte swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. "Pj told me what happened, you know. I don't blame you for what you did. I've done similar things. The only thing I have to say is that you can't change what happened, especially not by moping around in your room all day with the lights turned off. Either face the problem, or move on."
Dan stared at her, a mix of emotions, "You could leave. I could kick you out." His voice broke.
"You won't, though. I know you won't. If you let me stay, I'll be the best thing that's happened to you in the last three months, as vain as that sounds." Charlotte smiled, her confidence returning.
The house was quiet. Even the cars and sirens outside seemed to take a break from their noisiness. "How do you know anything about that? You graduated Uni, have a music career. Your life is great," said Dan, hands wildly moving in outlandish gestures.
"Looks deceive, Dan Howell. Two years ago, I was in danger of getting kicked out of Uni. Failing grades, getting in trouble for having drugs on campus. Finally I met Pj. He made me realize that I had to get myself out of my funk. That's the thing Dan, me and you aren't that different. I realized I had to help myself, get out of it. Now you have to."
Dan sat down on the carpet. "Fine. How?"
