letters to dan // dan smith

Chapter 1

Dan, Woody, Kyle and Will sit on the floor of Dan's apartment, drinking coffee and going through fan mail. All the letters and parcels had already been opened and checked, to make sure there was nothing dangerous in them. Not that the guys objected, it made the job quicker. As Dan puts down yet another letter, Kyle says something, but Dan ignores him.

"Dan!" Woody pokes him and motions over to Kyle.

"What?" Dan mutters, not looking up from the letter he was scanning.

Kyle chucks a thick envelope at Dan, which hits him square in the head.

"Ow! Kyle, what the hell?"

"Read it," he says. Kyle usually doesn't give a damn about the fan mail. It was mainly Woody and Dan's job to write letters back and look through everything they received. Will only came because he liked the coffee, and Dan always cooked dinner after. So if Kyle's telling Dan to read something, then it's worth reading.

He opens the envelope and a big bundle of letters falls out. He looks through the dates written on the envelopes and realises that some of these letters were written nearly three years ago. Someone, whoever wrote this, something must have happened. He wasn't really sure though. He just had a feeling. He picks up the earliest letter, takes it put of the envelope, and begins to read.

Dan. I saw you perform today. I didn't meet you, but I saw you in real life, and that's the next best thing. Not many people know this, not even my parents. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'll probably never even meet you, but I guess it's just a relief, writing this down. That's how I tend to express myself. Through writing- music, poetry, novels. Whatever. It takes a huge weight off my shoulders.

My name is Beth. For almost a whole year now, I've been depressed. Lately, it's been getting so bad I can't eat or sleep. The only thing that helps is music. You and the other guys mean so much to me I can't even explain it. I've been cutting every day for the past five months. It's becoming a routine now; drag myself out of bed, struggle through school (it's my last year. I guess that's good), music, music, music, cut, try to sleep. Repeat. The thing is your music, and you, both help me so much. There isn't even a word strong enough to describe it. For almost three weeks now, I haven't cut, and it's all thanks to you. I'm sorry about the wet stains on the paper, I'm crying.

Obviously there were no tear stains now, but the ink had run in several places, so Dan can tell it's genuine. Not that he has any doubts about how true it is. He can tell that this person, no, this girl, Beth, was being completely honest with what she was writing down. He keeps reading.

To you, I'm probably just another fan, but you're my whole world. I don't know where I'd be without you. Probably no where. Six feet underground. As someone once told me "No one loves you unless you're pretty or dead". Today, at the concert I called out to you, and you waved to me. Actually, I'm not even sure if the wave was to me, but that small gesture might be the only thing keeping me alive in 10 months. That and Oblivion.

Being the state I'm in, my school marks are going no where but down. My parents think I'm being lazy, but I honestly just cannot do it. They're constantly yelling at me, and I just handle this anymore. Today, while you were performing was the first time I felt genuinely happy in several months. No pretending. No fake smiles, just happiness. The moment I got home, I was yelled at. I'm not even sure for what, but it completely spoiled my good mood and now I'm sad again. That's why I'm crying. My parents are constantly on my case about my marks, my lifestyle, my attitude. Everything. And it's always negative. Some days I consider telling my parents about my depression, but I'm scared they'll just brush it off and say I'm pretending.

I feel sick. I'm tired. I can't do this anymore.

You'll probably never see this Dan, but if you somehow do, I love you. I love you and thank you. For everthing.

Love Beth xoxo

Once he finishes he puts the letter down and sits there silently. Then he gathers up the remaining letters, stuffs them in the envelope, and carried the whole thing to his room. There, he hides them in a shoe-box at the very bottom of his closet. Dan's no idiot. He knows these are meant for no one's eyes but his own.

Once back in the living room, Dan is greeted by Will's curious gaze. Judging by the racket coming from the kitchen, he assumes that Woody and Kyle are looking for food. Dan ignores the stare and looks out of the window. Wondering. Who was this girl? And why would she write to him? And why did the letters arrive all together? Not one by one?

"Who's it from, Dan?" Will asks, interrupting Dan's train of thought.

"Huh?" Dan mutters, only half-listening.

"The letter. Who's the letter from?" Will repeats.

"Oh... No one..." Dan replies, not wanting to share what he'd just read.

"Yeah, sure Dan, and I'm the Queen."

Dan glares at him. Will shrugs and gets up to join the other guys on their hunt for food.

Dan sinks down onto the couch and picks up a book, in hope of distracting himself, if just for a moment, from that mysterious bundle of letters, and his own memories that threaten to overtake him.