Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 5

Phil's POV

I stared at his retreating form longer than I would have liked to admit. My head ached.

Why did I do that?

To be completely honest, I wasn't even sure myself. I generally did not yell at people, especially Dan, like that. I rarely even got mad. But in that moment, everything had just seemed to fold over on me. All the pressure of having to keep my sexuality hidden, taking care of Dan, taking care of myself...

It's not like I was complaining. I loved Dan so much, and he didn't ask for a lot. I hoped he didn't feel guilty.

That was when the worry started up. The last time we had gotten into a fight, Dan had ended up in hospital with self-inflicted wounds. I desperately hoped he wouldn't start cutting again.

All these thoughts continued to swirl around my head until they landed on one thing: regret.

I needed to go fix things up as soon as possible before this mess got any worse. I needed to go say sorry. I needed to show him just how much he meant to me. I needed to...

I pulled myself together and caught a cab back to our flat. The elevator ride seemed to take twice as long as usual, largely due to the urgency of the situation. In the suffocating steel box, my mind conjured up all kinds of horrifying scenarios, each one more terrifying that the last. Dan crying, Dan perched on the edge of our balcony, Dan lying in a pool of blood....

Trying to eradicate these thoughts only made them worse, so when the elevator finally pulled to a stop, I breathed a deep sigh of relief and stepped off. I fumbled for the keys, dropping them twice.

When I finally got the door open, the flat was quiet and dark. I raced into the bathroom, flicking lights on as I went. It was empty. As was his bedroom, and mine, and the living room and the kitchen. I felt sick to my stomach.

Then I noticed the note on the counter. It said, in Dan's loopy handwriting:

I'm staying at Chris' for a couple of nights. Please don't try to contact me.

I immediately pulled out my phone and texted him.

Dan i'm so sorry

please text back

i love you

don't hurt yourself

I needed air. It was so stifling in here. I opened a couple of windows and let the cold rush in. It felt clean.

I then heard a buzz from my phone. I picked it up, hoping to see Dan's name flashing on the screen, but it was only Chris. I picked up.

"Chris! Is Dan with you?" I asked straight away.

"Yeah, he's right here."

I released my breath. "Okay. Okay. Good."

Chris spoke again. "What happened? He's not saying anything."

I shifted uncomfortably. "We got in a fight. I..." But I couldn't finish it. My face burned with shame.

Chris, thankfully, understood. "It's okay."

"Just take care of him, will you? Make sure he doesn't... Hurt himself," I choked out.

"Of course."

And then he hung up and I was alone with my thoughts. Never a good thing. I walked into the kitchen and reached to the top cabinet, all the way at the back where we kept the alcohol. I drank with the intention of forgetting who I was and what I had done.

Dan's POV

After leaving Phil, I just walked, my thoughts a swirling mess. Tears clouded my eyes.

Do not cry. Do not cry. Don't be a pussy. Do not cry you faggot.

On and on the voices droned until my face was straight again and I could breathe properly.

I couldn't face him. I couldn't look at him and see the look of pain on his face. I just couldn't.

I was drowning in self hate. I hadn't known what had come over me.

Why did I say that?

Why did he say that?

I didn't want to be mad at him. Being mad at Phil was like being mad at a butterfly for landing on you. Was I even mad at him?

Maybe a little bit. Maybe I was mad at him for pointing the fact that I was a spineless twat who couldn't even be true to his own self, let alone his fans.

I had seen what had happened. People coming out on YouTube or Twitter before all of a sudden they're being sent hate messages and having abuse thrown at them for holding hands with their gay partner. I'd seen it all.

And I didn't want that to happen to us. To Phil.

I needed time and space to clear my head and just think.

So I caught a cab back to our flat and packed a small backpack. I left a note on our counter saying where I was planning to go.

I didn't feel suicidal. I didn't feel like cutting myself. I didn't even know what I felt. It had to be a mixture of about 50 emotions.

I left the apartment as I heard the elevator coming up. I took the stairs. I did not want to see Phil. Soon, I was walking back into the fresh, cold air and trying to find a cab.

It was quiet out. There weren't any cabs around. I sighed in frustration and began to walk towards the busier end of London. I was walking past a dark alleyway when I felt the hand on my shoulder.

I wheeled around and was faced with a tall, hooded man. He looked at me predatorily and I shuddered as memories flooded into my mind.

Distorted voice yelling at me. Being cornered behind the school. The jeering voices. Hot water streaming down my back. The horrible burns.

Except this time, Phil wasn't there to save me.

"What's a little boy like you doing out here alone?" He drawled menacingly. I tried to twist away, but his grip was tight.

"I-I need to go," I said, hating how my voice shook.

He chuckled. "No, stay with us. We'll keep you warm."

I wrenched away from his grasp and pulled out my phone. "I will call the police."

He frowned. "Come on, we're just having some fun."

But I was already walking away, shaky and afraid. I had always hated the dark. That experience seemed to have opened a door in my mind. A door that I had been struggling to keep closed since that fateful year. I shuddered into my coat as the mental pain overtook me.
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writing phanfiction before school like
lmao thanks for reading xx