Ghost - Phan (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 1 - He Left For Me

Phil's POV

*Just Last Week...*

"It's late," I said. "I don't want to go out."

"So you just expect me to?"

"Would you? Please?"

"Do you really need chocolate right now?"

"Pleeeeease?"

"These cravings of yours – are you sure you aren't pregnant?"

"Ask a biologist. Who knows?"

"You're so lucky I love you."

Dan took the house keys and shoved them in his pocket, along with his phone and a pen.

"Why are you taking the pen?" I giggled.

"Why not? You never know. I might have to sign something. I might meet a fan who wants an autograph. Maybe I just want the pen. Why do you question my actions?" he was laughing, trying to be serious and failing.

"Sure, Dan."

He gave me a kiss. "Love you, be back in a few."

"Thank you, I love you!"

He flashed a smile before closing the door. Dan... my perfect lover, my best friend, my world. He left. He went out to get something for me because I wanted it, but I didn't want to get it myself.

He left for me.

I sat with my laptop open waiting for him to return. It was taking far too long. I tried to call, and he did not answer. I text him and he didn't answer. The store isn't that far. He would have come back by now.

I was sat nervously on the sofa, my laptop now closed and my eyes watching the door. My eyes flickered, and with a glance of the clock - nearly midnight now – I fell asleep.

I woke up in the same position, instant memories of missing Dan come home flooding my mind. I tiredly checked his room, then my own, and he wasn't there. I checked my phone, and had one message left for me. He called.

I quickly called back, hoping he was okay. He didn't answer, someone else did.

"Hello? Is this Phil Lester?"

"Dan? Yes it's me. Who's this? Where's Dan?"

"Sir, your friend is in the hospital."

My mouth dropped open as I was rushing to pull on a jumper. I ran out the door to the tube, still on the phone with whomever was there.

"Is he okay?! What happened? Where is he?"

"Uh," they hesitated.

"Hello?!"

"He's in intensive care. He was hit by a city bus that swerved out of control on a London street."

I swore, and my body shook in fear. "Can I speak to him? Is he okay?"

"I'm sorry but Dan is in a medically induced coma to try and heal his body. His body was crushed under the force and weight of the bus, and several vital organs were damaged. He also lost –"

I dropped my phone, then shakily forced it into my back pocket as I sprinted off the train and towards the hospital the person on the phone had directed me to earlier. I dashed to the front desk.

"Dan..." I panted. "Dan... Howell... Where is he? Is he okay? Let me see him."

"Sir, who are you?"

"Phil. I-I'm his best friend and his boyfriend. Please let me see him."

The lady guided me to the intensive care floor, and through a thick glass window, pointed to him, wrapped in bandages that were soaked red in blood and casts galore. Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed disgustingly. I shut my eyes and pounded my hand against the glass.

"Dan!" I yelled. The nurse touched my arm with force, holding me bad from breaking the window.

"Sir, please calm down."

I broke her grip. "Dan, no! Dan, please!"

"Alright, that's enough," she said, picking up a hospital walkie-talkie from her belt and summoning security. Two men as tall as myself took me by the arms and dragged me off, still screaming and eventually kicking like a child for Dan's attentiveness.

They brought me to a room where people grieved. It was private so no one could bother me and I could try to regain control of my thoughts.

This is life, I thought. This is real life. Dan's fine. He'll get fixed up and we can go back to living as normal.