This is gonna move quickly because I'M TERRIBLE AT DESCRIPTIVE WRITTING OMG. I write very similar to Bret Easton Ellis (I love you so much if you know who he is) so this was a big challenge:) (teehee just copying and pasting dis shit muwaha) Anywhore... bai.
It was now 5 days after the ‘incident’ and Dan was getting angry. He was angry at the way Phil refused to speak to him, look at him, or even acknowledge his existence.
“How can I get him to talk to me though” Dan pouted and sipped his Shake-away; Butterscotch and white Maltesers made everything better. “I really don’t know, Dan. You should have called PJ, he knows about this type of thing!” Chris said, trying to comfort Dan. “He’s with Phil” Dan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a three year old having a tantrum. “Have you actually tried to talk to him?” The YouTuber known a Crabstickz questioned. “Of course I have!” Dan sighed, slouching in his chair waving his arms around dramatically. “He won’t even look at me Chris! So I really doubt he’ll want to sit down with and talk with me!” Dan said straightening up “What will I say? ‘Oh hey Phil! How come you don’t seem to like me now that you’ve seen my penis?’ or how about ‘Sup Phil, what was it like walking in on your best friend in the shower?” He exaggerated the last sentence and Chris just face palmed. “Dan. As much as I like you, you are a melodramatic idiot sometimes.” Dan was about to object but Chris continued anyway “Now, when we leave here, you are walking straight up to Phil and forcing him to talk to you. No buts about it Dan! You two are best friends! You can’t live without each other!” Chris almost shouted. He then got up, brushed the crumbs from his earlier cookie from his coat and walked over to Dan. “Do the right thing.” And he was gone. Dan whipped around in his seat and yelled at the retreating form of Chris, “YOU AREN’T FUCKING BRUCE WILLIS, CRABSTICKZ!!!” He heard a small gasp next to him and turned to face an angry looking woman with three small children hanging off of her arm. “Sorry Ma’m. You see my-“He felt a sharp pain across his face and the woman said sternly “This is a family cafe, you filthy mouthed man” and she walked away, pulling her children with her. Rubbing his face, Dan got up to leave, tossing his milkshake in the bin as he left the shop.
***
The walk home was a lonely one. Dan hated walking through London alone in this light, yeah okay, it was only 7pm but it was still as dark as it would be at 11pm. Deciding to take a short cut through the outskirts of Soho, Dan ended up in Piccadilly Circus at rush hour. He cursed quietly to himself and quickened his pace, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and began to try to push past the crowds of people. This didn’t work very well. He ended up being knocked on multiple occasions and for some reason, some guy punched him in the face. Then to make everything better, it started to rain.
By the time he got home it was 8:30pm and was soaked through to the bone. He unlocked his front door, kicked off his Vans (damn, they were going to take a while to dry) and proceeded to the living room. To his surprise, the door was shut. Switching to ninja stealth mode, he lightly crept towards the door. He knew PJ was here earlier but was he still here? Why was the door shut? Was Phil okay? Was Phil dead? No, scratch that last one. That couldn’t happen in the space of 3 hours could it? The mere thought of Phil being dead sent a chill down his spine. Shaking that thought out of his head, he reached out and opened to door a fraction, just enough to see Phil and PJ on the sofa.
