He can't be dead...

Chapter 8

Phil awoke the next morning to a buzzing noise coming from under the blankets, rubbing his eyes as he reached for his glasses. The buzzing turned out to be a notification reminding him of the importance of the day, and he sprang out of bed when he noticed the time. Phil's wounds from the car crash throbbed as he reached into the closet for his suit, setting it to the side and heading to the washroom. He reached into his jean pockets and snatched up his phone and the crumpled note that he would be reading later that day. Shrugging off the clothes that he'd been wearing since Dan's death, he found himself thinking about how peaceful it would be if he too were to pass away as well. It would be so calm, no need to worry about the fans or cry until his eyes were raw. Maybe he could escape the reality he was living after the funeral. He wasn't really needed then anyways, Phil said to himself, as he stepped into the shower, hot water beating down on his pale skin.
After finishing his shower and drying out his hair, Phil pulled on the suit and jacket, wincing with each harsh movement. It felt strange to get ready alone, as him and Dan usually played music and chatted, helping each other out whenever necessary. This memory just sent more strikes of pain through his weak body, so he decided to finish up as fast as possible and catch his cab.

Phil stepped outside, the loud, city sounds overwhelming him and the fresh, morning air flooding past him. A loud "Phil!" drew his attention to a young girl, maybe 13 or so, waving at him from the sidewalk. He tried to pull off a faint smile, but it turned into more of a grimace. The girl ran over to meet him.
"Hello! Oh my god! I can't believe it's actually you-I'm a huge fan! Say, why are you so dressed up? And where's Dan?"
Phil's heart flew into his throat. "He's, uh, not with me." He managed to croak out. As if by magic, the black cab he's called for earlier that morning pulled up in front of him.
"I've got to go. Nice to meet you!" He said with fake enthusiasm. The fan faltered, seeming to notice something was wrong, but waved anyways and continued on as Phil climbed into the car.

Phil arrived at the funeral home slightly late, and as he stepped through the dark wooden doors to the big building, the chatter on the inside stopped abruptly, diminishing to muttering and whispers. A hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to whip around. He found himself inches away from Cat, a sad expression spread across her face.
"Phil, I'm so sorry. I'll miss Dan too, you're not alone. If there's anything I can do..." She moved her hand closer to Phil's, to which he reacted by jerking it away rapidly.
"I'll be fine, thanks Cat." His reply was emotionless, and even he couldn't say wether it was sadness, anger, or a mix of both that was overwhelming him. He turned away, stumbling towards his parents, who were talking quietly with those of Dan. They greeted him kindly, and the sight of more people who were mourning as much as him made him slightly more at ease. They chatted for a while, and when there seemed to be nothing else to say, Dan's mum turned to Phil and said "There's an open casket, if you'd like to say goodbye for the last time. It'll be open until the end, so if you'd like some privacy..." Phil nodded. "Thank you."
Someone on the opposite side of the room cleared their throat very loudly, and the crowd turned to face the direction from which the noise came from.
"Dan Howell was an amazing friend, son, grandchild, leader, partner, writer, creator, lover, and much more. He will be well remembered for so many things. May we take a moment to mourn the death of this young man, and appreciate what was his life."
The room went dead silent, the only noise being the occasional sniffle. Phil faced the ground, a lump building in his throat.
"Thank you for gathering here today, friends and family. I'm sure that Dan would be happy to see how many people have came to send him off."
The room was silent again, and everyone stared awkwardly at each other, until the man at the front spoke up again.
"If Phil Lester could come to the front?"
Phil continued staring at the ground, until he noticed the group staring at him, and the man up front gestured for him to come up.
He made his way to the stand at the front of the room, fumbling to get the piece of paper in his grasp. He unfolded it with shaky hands,knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it through steadily.
"If any of you didn't know this, Dan and I were in love. He was my best friend, but also the man I wanted to be with until the end. He was-" he paused, his eyes beginning to blur with tears. "He was planning on marrying me, actually." He could feel his cheeks go bright red, embarrassed that he was already crying.
"But, uh, enough about me, I guess I'll talk about Dan. He was an amazing person, I don't think I could go into enough detail about that." Tears were flowing down his cheeks rapidly, and the people in the audience began to look worried. He knew he couldn't finish his speech.
"I miss him...oh god, I miss him so much. I-" Phil gasped for air. "Dan, I love you." He stared at the ground awkwardly, feeling the entire crowd look at him in pity. He slowly stumbled away from the front of the room, of into the bathroom, where he exploded into loud sobs. The tears kept flowing for a long time, and he lost track of time, as someone came in soon enough to let him know that everyone was leaving.
Phil stood up and walked calmly out of the bathroom and over to the casket. He stared into the eyes of his lifeless friend, and knew that he couldn't keep living in this pain. He couldn't keep living without Dan.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Cheesy ending. Oops. Enjoy!