A/N: hellooo who's ready for a story of a few parts? I know I am! i've been workin on this one for a while, so i hope you guys like it. watch out for tones of angst, it's a bit more sad than the others i've done, as well as homophobic slurs. otherwise, enjoy!
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Manchester University, 2010
Dan's POV
Lunch had just ended, and Phil and I were on the swings out in the back of the playground. No one ever really went to the swings, since there was only two, and they were dangling on the last link, aged with rust. But it was our little corner of the big wide world, and we didn't know much of it. So to us it was the center of our universe.
"How are your parents doing?" Phil asked kindly. He was a year seven and swinging high, pumping his legs to gain speed. I, though, year four, was still close to the ground, kicking the dirt with my favourite shoes. "Hey, don't kick the dirt with your nice ones. Those are the ones with the buckles, aren't they? Your mom would be upset." Phil threw a hand up to his mouth as soon as he realized what he had said.
I sighed with a sad smile. "Yeah, to answer your question, she's not even at home anymore. My dad already told me, they only married because it would make for practical and successful finance. They don't even talk to each other... only on the phone, if they need to discuss payments or whatever."
Phil stopped swinging and slowed down to my speed. He put a hand on my shoulder: "It's okay, you've still got Mattie, don't you?"
I shook my head. No, sadly, my older brother was never home. "My mum took him into her custody. My dad was okay with it. He's at Ridgefield now, the special academy."
"Oh yeah, Mum and I pass by it on the way to cello lessons. It looks like a nice school."
"It's not a nice school," I retorted, "because it has him without me."
Phil just looked down at his shoes.
"Well, it's okay," he started to say, but I interrupted: "No it's not." "Shh! Listen to me, it is. Because you have me."
Phil took my hand and held it in his. We continued to swing until we were told we had to come in, that recess was over.
That was a couple years ago. Now Phil is somewhere in England, living with flatmates that simply come and go, and making videos. And I'm stuck in uni. I haven't spoken to him for a while, not since he graduated from the academy we went to. That day set us off, though. He tried to block it out, but I still remember, that when someone saw us holding hands, they called me gay, and called Phil a fag, hitting him in a head with one of their soccer balls. Them, the popular kids. It was harsh on Phil, especially since he was older.
Just my last year of uni, and then I can go off and visit him if I want.
Or if I can even find him.
