stars [phan]

two

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars"
-Oscar Wilde

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

Phil groaned as he turned over in his bed, swiping his phone to get rid of the annoying beeping.  He didn't hate work, he hated getting up for it.  8am was too early for somebody who stayed up late, but he supposed that was his own fault.  He'd been walking every day for a week as the sun went down hoping to see the stranger he spent new years with, but so far Phil hadn't managed to find him. 

The man groaned again and sat up, rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on so he could see.  He glanced at his phone, seeing a few twitter notifications and a message from one of his friends.  He'd answer them later.  It's not like they actually cared about him anyway.  Phil ran his hand through his hair.  He didn't know what it was, but he really didn't want to go to work today.

Sometime in the next few minutes he got up, showered and made cereal.  He sat down on his couch as usual and looked over his shitty flat.  It really was crap, but it was all he could afford.  He didn't actually have a tv so he relied on the internet to provide him with news and important stuff.  As long as the world hadn't ended it was okay.  Phil finished eating and put his bowl in the sink to wash later, picked up his keys and wallet and shut the door for the day, fighting the urge to throw something for the hell of it.

He was lucky he only lived a few blocks away from where he worked.  He'd begun volunteering at a second hand book store when he first moved to london just to give him something to do, but he turned up so much that the lady there gave him a paying job.  He loved working there, and Elise had become like a mother to him.  She made sure he always had enough food and sleep and basically looked after him.  In return, Phil would help if she ever needed anything.  He loved it there; sometimes he just didn't want to get out of bed.

He stuck his hands further into his coat pocket and breathed out softly.  Even if he was basically dead at this hour, he loved his part of the city.  He didn't live in a particularly busy part, so at this time of the morning everything was relatively calm even if his mind was going crazy as usual.  Stupid thoughts ran through his head. "What's the point of getting up if you're just going to sleep again?"  "Why do I eat when I'm going to get hungry again?"  "Why do I do anything if I'm only going to fade away?"  Elise had told him there was a purpose but he couldn't see it.  Not yet.  As usual, he pushed the negative thoughts out of his head and tried to concentrate on getting to work.

Phil didn't see the man walking towards him until their shoulders banged together painfully. Ow. He turned around and watched the stranger walk away without apologising. "Sorry," he called out anyway. The stranger stopped for a second and turned to face Phil, meeting his blue eyes with his own chocolate brown ones. They looked familiar, but the man just pulled his hood further around his face and started walking again. Fine.

He arrived at the book store quickly after that, wanting to be early as usual to help Elise open up shop. The old woman smiled at him as he walked through the side entrance, putting the book she was sorting down and giving Phil a hug. "Good morning Phil. How was your holiday?"

"It was great, thanks," Phil tried to be enthusiastic but something about the stranger had ruffled him. He hugged her back anyway and went about his usual actions, unlocking the front door and putting the 'open' sign up. Elise had obviously turned the heater on a while ago considering it was already warm. He loved this shop, even though it was small. It felt more like home than his crappy apartment did anyhow. There was something about the atmosphere that felt welcoming to him. Phil took off one of his jackets, putting it under the counter.

The bell rang a few minutes later, signalling the first customer. Elise was out back making them tea, so he called out a hello. They didn't reply, but Phil didn't really expect them to. He was well acquaintanced with rude people, but everyone had their bad days. He leant on the counter, waiting for them to either find what they were looking for or disappear again. The man flicked through a few books before turning to look at Phil.

It was the same man that had bumped into him before.

Their eyes locked again for a few seconds until the stranger came up to the counter.

"Uh, do you have books on space or anything? Sci-fi I guess." Phil paused before answering. He recognised his voice just like he'd recognised his eyes.

"I'm not really sure about space, sorry. We go by authors, but sci-fi's over there. Isaac Astimof is good, so maybe something by him. There'll be space there too."

"Thanks." He walked over to the area Phil had directed him to and started browsing through titles. Phil looked at the back of his head for a moment and then went back to sorting the books he was before.  That's all this job was, really.  He'd sort books into sections and shelf them at the end of the day.  Elise insisted on paying him and he accepted just enough to get by.  She knew he had trouble with money and she wanted to help, he supposed.  His apartment was cheaper than it looked, which was saying something considering it looked like a dump.  Despite everything, it was enough.

A cough startled him from his work and Phil looked up to see the man from before, plastering a smile on his face almost instantly.  "Hey.  Find anything?"

"Yeah, thanks."  He held up The Martian.  Phil smiled genuinely. 

"That's a good book.  It's one of my favourites actually.  I wish it had more recognition. I'm surprised we got a copy, it's not very popular."

"I look forward to reading it then." The boys face split into a smile for the first time since entering the shop. He handed over the money and put the book in his jacket pocket. He smiled less genuinely this time and turned to go.

"Thanks, Phil."

"No pro-"

"I should go."

"Okay."

"I hope I'll see you again, Phil."

"Wait!" Phil blurted out.  The boy stopped and turned to face him.  "You're the guy from New Years.  I still don't know your name."  Brown Eyes smiled again. 

"Ding ding, he wins the prize.  It's been a few weeks."

"It's only been a week.  This year already seems really long, right?" 

"Yeah."  His eyes dart around the room and his hands mess around with the pocket of his hoodie, playing with the hole that's already there.  He coughs quietly and uses his free hand to grab a card from the counter, slipping it into his book.  "I hope I'll see you again, Phil."  Phil laughed softly.

"I still don't know your name."

The boy just turns away and Phil thinks he's going to walk out the of store without answering him, but he pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

"It's Dan," he says quietly, then coughs again to clear his throat.  "My name's Dan."

Phil opened his mouth but Dan had already stepped out the door.  Through the frosted glass he sees the man cross the street and then disappear around a corner.

"Dan," he murmured.  The stranger had a name.  Dan, with the brown eyes that seemed so much more alive in the darkness.  Dan, with the deep speeches about stars.  Dan, with the hole in his jacket pocket. 

Dan.