You're The Straw To My Berry (Phan)

Part thirty-four

Dan P.O.V.

"Ladies and Gentleman, welcome aboard Virgin Atlantic non-stop flight to San Francisco. Please pay attention to your flight attendants evenly spaced throughout our cabin as we explain to you the emergency features of our Boeing 747-400 aircraft. To fasten your seatbelt, place the metal tip into the buckle and tighten the strap. To release your seatbelt, lift the top portion of the buckle. There are 6 emergency exits on board, two forward and two in the rear with two additional exits over the wing. In case of loss of electrical power, emergency track lighting near the floor will illuminate which leads you to the exits. If there is a loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will fall down automatically, just place the mask over your nose and tighten the strap, oxygen will flow automatically. Your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device, just remove the cushion from the seat, please your hands on the underside of the cushion and hold your wrists. There is no smoking onboard, our aircraft and tampering with the lavatory smoke detectors is a federal offence. Please turn off all electrical equipment and refreshments will be made available soon. We are set to arrive in San Francisco in 11 hours; the time is now 11am. We thank you for choosing our airline and if there is anything we can do to make your flight more enjoyable, please don't hesitate to ask," I hardly listened to the pilot and watched the flight attendants as they showed us what to do with not much interest.

I pulled my iPod out the pocket and repositioned my headphones that were around my neck on top of my head so they covered my ears and listened to what I was last playing.

I was lucky to be in the window seat for the flight and stared out the window during take off, watching everything get smaller and smaller as we ascended upwards.

I was grateful that I hadn't been recognised yet because I still felt emotional and I knew that if someone started to talk to me I would probably break down in tears. It was cowardly for me to be running away from my problems that I had created, and I knew that, but I needed a break and I needed to be on my own.

San Francisco wasn't exactly my cheapest option, but I wanted to get out the country and decided to make my life easier if I went to another English-speaking one. I closed my eyes, wishing I had thought to buy a pillow before I got on the plane, but I remembered I was hardly a saint and deserved to be uncomfortable.

* * *

I was thankful for the long flight because I was exhausted and used the time to catch up on my sleep. I woke when I grew conscious of some shuffling and opened one eye and peeked sideways, seeing that the people I was sharing my row with were packing their things away in a bag. I sat up and stretched my limbs as much as I could in the tiny space I had, ignoring the ache in my neck from how I slept.

I looked out the window and saw the sun was still quite high in the sky, showing me that we were in America now. For the rest of the flight I stared mindlessly out of the window, ignoring all the kafuffle that was going on around me.

* * *

After getting past the terrifying experience that was US passport control, I followed the large swarm of fellow passengers to the exit then started to panic when I realised I had no idea where I was going to go after I left.

Feeling jetlagged scared and intimidated, I took random twists and turns down different streets knowing that I'd have to find a hotel before it got dark.

After half an hour of searching I was still having no such luck and approached a nearby couple.

"Uhh, excuse me, do you know where the nearest hotel is?" I asked them as calmly as I could, mentally cursing my obvious British accent.

"Yeah! It's about a ten minute walk from here!" The girl who looked about 27 started telling me the directions and I listened closely, trying to ignore the glare I was receiving from who I assumed was her boyfriend. When she finished I thanked her and walked as fast as I could in the direction she gave me, repeating what she said in my head.

I breathed out a sigh of relief when I saw a shabby-looking hotel not too far away from walking after a few minutes. I raced myself to the doors, half-running there.

The receptionist didn't notice I was there even when I was in front of her, she was too engrossed in the TV show she was watching and I took the opportunity to look around.

It wasn't welcoming, the main reception area was lit by lamps but the lampshades were dirty and old, giving the room a gloomy effect. The carpets were stained and the little furniture looked old-fashioned.

I cleared my throat and the receptionist jumped and gave me an apologetic smile. 

"Sorry, how can I help you?" 

"Do you have any free rooms?"

"Let me check..." I held my breath in anticipation, praying she would say yes. "Ahh, yes, we do. How long do you plan on staying?" 

"I'm not sure. A week, maybe." 

"Okay, well we charge $48 a night and you'll need to pay when you sign out. What's your name?" 

"Dan, Dan Howell," she typed my name down into the computer then handed me a key.

"Room 37, second floor." 

"Thank you," I took the stairs and unlocked the door when I found my room, closing and locking the door behind me. I dumped my bag on the floor and sat down on the bed, inspecting my room. 

I had a small beside table with a lamp on top, the colour of it matching the peeling wallpaper. There was a wooden wardrobe against the opposite wall and a door leading to a bathroom. Overall it was dingy, but it would have to do. 

I turned on my phone and saw I had numerous missed calls and a voicemail. I rang my phone network to listen to it. 

"Dan! It's Phil, call me as soon as you get this, please, I'm not mad, just please, I need you, I need to know you're okay. Call me, please, I'm sorry, I love you," Phil’s voice broke halfway through the message and I could hear he was upset. Why wasn't he angry at me? He had every right to be, and why was he sorry? None of this was his fault. 

I was going to call him back then realised he could use it to track me down, so I switched my phone back off. I wiped away tears, wondering why I had to screw things up again. I had made such a mess this time, and it would take a lot more fixing when I got back. 

I wondered what Phil was doing now and how he was feeling. I hoped Chris was looking after him because I wasn't there to do it. The mere thought of Phil just made me cry harder, I missed him, and being away from him was killing me.