Phil P.O.V.
I stumble out the back door of the house ready to hit something. My fists find the wall, repeatedly. I can feel the stucco and blood mixing together on my scraped-up hands. Tears well in my eyes, but not from the pain in my hand. These tears were full of anger and love and pity and hate. They were painful tears that forced their ways from my eyes and down my pale cheeks. No one would come out to see me, I knew that. I had disappeared before Dan could look up from what he had done.
Dan.
"God dammit Dan, you just don't understand!"
I could still hear the words like I had said them less than five minutes before.
He would never understand. He would never understand the complete loss for words I felt when I saw him and the painful ache of butterflies I felt when he spoke.
How could you explain something that was so ineffable that you, the creator, could not even understand?
And he...had laughed. Granted, he was drunk off his ass, Phil, I kept having to remind myself, he didn't know what the hell he was saying. But he had made fun of something that was so much more complex than what he could even understand.
Seeing him with that girl...I couldn't cope with the feelings that were exploding within my racing heart.
I had gone to get a beer (only my second of the night, I mind you), and turning that corner brought sudden clarity to my blurry thoughts.
He had her pressed up against the counter, their mouths pressed together, his hand around her waist, through her hair.
And I did the most stupid, impulsive thing I could thing of.
"Dan, I need to talk to you."
I had said, grabbing his arm and pulling his mouth away from hers.
"Phil wh- what the hell, Phil?"
"I...I don't feel well...um, yeah I think I'm gonna head home."
"Well, okay. Don't need to ask my permission or anything."
As he had said that, I remember watching his turn back to the girl, fitting their bodies together like long lost puzzle pieces.
"Dan, I'm serious. I think you should come too. You've had enough to drink" I said, pointing to his half empty beer can.
He pulled away from her again. "You don't need to keep tabs on me Phil. I'm fine. You go home, you'll be fine too. Honestly, I don't get why you need me so much."
I slump against the side of the house. Pulling my knees in as tightly as possible, I put my head between them, allowing the tears to slip off the bridge of my nose and onto the concrete.
After about twenty minutes, I wander back inside and look around. Most of the people emptied out after Taylor went unconscious so it was clear that he had left. I walk out the front door and ring him...no answer. I try two more times as I walk down the empty London streets toward our flat. He still doesn't answer.
He's probably just angry...don't let it bother you, I think.
As I walk down the side walk, I get an uneasy feeling. I suspect that it is the same feeling Dan gets when he is in the dark. I see headlights up ahead and hear the ear piercing sound of hastily applied brakes.
My stomach explodes.
My lungs climb into my throat, making it impossible to breathe.
Every single bone in my body aches.
My head screams until I hold my hands up to try and block out the intense waves of pain.
My heart stops.
I look up.
