I'll Leave You With The Outtakes // Phan

Part 2

Dan likes America, it's nice. The people are a lot more upfront about things, loud and all busy looking. They have accents that Phil likes to make fun of, and there actually aren't as many people walking around carrying guns, despite what Dan always expects. Times Square is already decked out for Christmas, and the architecture is all significantly newer than in London.

But he's just too tired to enjoy it. He would much rather be wandering the city than cramped in a Barnes and Noble suffocated by copies of a book he and Phil wrote together. The air just seems too stuffy inside. Dan's head is drifting away to the brisk breeze outdoors and the busy streets.

Well, fuck, he finishes scrawling his name and glares at the barely legible signature. When had his handwriting gotten so much worse?

He's just tired is all. Tired, and there are still a hundred more books to sign, before they go to another city. Chicago and L.A. Hundreds more books, hundreds more signatures.

And now there's another copy in front of him again.

"Hi there,"he says with a smile to the fan in front of him, leaning over he pages to scrawl across them.

"Dan?" He looks up at his name, his eyes meeting Phil's. It's not the usual look he gets from Phil, so it isn't what Dan is expecting. Concern, and worry don't really register in his brain until he realizes.

He dropped his pen.

It just slid out of his fingers onto the copy of their book.

"Are you okay?,"Phil is asking, quiet enough that the other's in the line waiting on them can't hear. But surely the wide eyed fan in front of Dan has also noticed. Suddenly Dan feels extremely stupid. His fingers are twitching oddly, and he fumbles three times to pick back up the pen. Finally managing to force a shaky signature and hand the book back to its owner.

He's just tired.

It's the stress and the jet lag and the copious amount of autographs that Dan has been giving out as of late. He should do hand exercises or something.

-

Los Angeles and Chicago go well enough. Dan struggles against his left handedness and butterfingers, and he ends up dropping various items throughout the time. But it's nothing like the New York Incident. Maybe the rest on the plane flights is finally doing Dan some good.

L.A. is sunny, even in November, and rife with the YouTube community. It's his and Phil's last day in the United States, and in California, so they're supposed to be collaborating with Tyler Oakley and a few other Los Angeles based YouTubers.

Tyler has enough energy to brighten up both him and Phil, and sitting between the two of them as they film actually let's Dan relax. His shoulders loosen, his smile becomes less rigid. The video filming doesn't take very long, Tyler offers to take them out into metro L.A. Tyler does most of the talking. Phil chiming in for Dan's silences. It's almost okay. It's almost like they are all friends. And Dan can almost imagine that he's just an average tourist from London, visiting a friend in America. There's a Thai restaurant that Tyler recommends. And because the hostess recognizes Tyler they end up getting to avoid the half an hour wait to be seated. Everything is dreamily alright--then Dan's phone chimes. Phil's still laughing at an innuendo of Tyler's as he reads the text, and tries to answer.

"Your hand is shaking,"Tyler says quietly. Dan flinches at the comment, he hadn't realized Tyler was even watching him. Much less, noticing his struggle.

His fingers blunder over the screen. Like Dan's hands just won't listen to him as he tells them what to do. They have a mind of their own. When Dan voices this aloud, Phil giggles, then quickly blurts,"Sorry, that's just really funny."

"Yeah,"Dan mumbles, his face heating. He is just so stupid, why can't he answer a fucking text for god's sake?! The only letters he's managed to type are utter nonsense. "It's—it's been doing that."

"For how long?" Dan doesn't answer Tyler, but Phil does. He wants to stab him for it.

"Since we first got to America, right? But, he's always been jittery."

Dan grits his teeth and twitches his thumb clumsily, erasing everything he has typed and starting again. Or trying to. For once actually thanking heaven for auto correct, because it makes his misspelled attempts legible. "It gets better after a bit."

He can physically feel Tyler's gaze,"You should get that looked at."

"No, no,"he brushes it off,"Phil's right. I'm jittery. It's why I always make so many typos. I think my hands are just giving up after all of those books signings."

"I get that,"Tyler says slowly,"But, even after Binge...my hands were tired, but not like that, I mean--."

"Leave it, Ty,"Phil snaps, cutting the bouncy American off sharply,"If Dan says he's fine, than he's fine."

Tyler frowns pointedly at his drink. Phil glares at Dan. And Dan is tempted to throw his phone against the wall. Because the illusion of normality is shattered again, and he still can't type like a normal human being.

But—at least Phil is right. He's fine. Yes, his left hand is acting up and it's frustrating, but not worrying. Not yet, anyways.

-