I'll Leave You With The Outtakes // Phan

Part 11

It's funny how the moment Phil notices he completely changes, the lax smile on his face turns to an extra brightened one. His posture straightens, the steadying hand on Dan's own slides away. And Dan knows he's not looking at Phil anymore, he's looking at AmazingPhil. One thousand watt smile, excited eyes, innocent head tilt, platonic demeanor towards Dan, yet slightly intimate. Best friends, not more. Certainly not less. The spectacle makes Dan's chest ache a little.

"No, don't,"he says, lowering the phone slightly to meet Phil's eyes.

Phil just blinks at him. It's so natural to them both now that they barely notice it. "Don't what?"

"No camera personality,"he explains, motioning at Phil's stance,"I just want to record some of Japan is all. It feels right." The recording timer is still ticking forward, catching Phil's confused expression and the crowded landscape of Tokyo behind him.

"So this isn't for the side channels?"

"Even if it was. I'm tired of acting all the time, just—pretend it's not here." Easier said than done, both he and Phil have developed a hyper awareness of cameras, of when they are being watched. It's a sixth sense of sorts, and neither of them can ever truly relax (or fight) while there's eyes—electronic or otherwise—watching. But Dan's tired of that, god...he's so tired of it all. So yeah, he still hates Phil. And he's not going to pretend that he doesn't. He's also not going to pretend that he doesn't like being closer to Phil. In a physical way. Clutching out for solace in the bad times, and finding warm fingers and thrumming chest to hold him steady in the swirling side effects.

"If it's not for YouTube, than why are you even filming?" He doesn't know. Something in his head is just whispering film it, film everything, record it so you can hold it close later. Maybe it's because they've immortalized Danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil in print and bits, but they've never bothered to preserve Dan and Phil. He just needs something to hold on to. A way to save all of the details of every last moment. What better way than with a camera?

"I don't know really,"he admits,"We've always done it. Captured our lives digitally, and—and I just want to I guess."

Phil nods, he still doesn't understand, but he's not going to decline Dan anything at this point,"Okay."

"Relax, you still look like you're on film."

"Cause I am." It's hard for Dan too. So difficult not to fall into his usual pattern of banter. He takes a big breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth, and then let's his smile fall off of his face. There—now he's closer to him.

"Just take little steps back to you then,"he offers, taking Phil's hand back in his,"Like this."

-

Dan spends all of his time in Japan gazing at the landscapes of everywhere he goes, memorizing and recording faces and places because he knows he's never going to get to come back.

Despite everything, he's going to miss it.

He'll miss the crowds of people hustling and bustling past bright advertisements and honking horns.

He'll miss the open markets full of still moving sea creatures or tourist oriented booths or merchandise from every anime ever.

He'll miss the sound of shouted foreign language.

He'll miss the way the closed greenish-brown buds on the cherry blossom trees will open up in a few months, dotting the landscape with pastel florae.

There are a lot of things Dan is going to miss.

-

It's a Sunday afternoon, their last weekend in Japan, rain is falling steadily outside the window of the hotel room. He and Phil are watching it streak the glass from inside, they're still in bed. Dan sits cross-legged on the mattress, watching Phil read a mystery novel disinterestedly a bed over. He's curled up nicely, a mountain of pillows and blankets keeping him from having to move too much. A while ago, Dan might've been bored by sitting in bed doing nothing while he was in such an exotic place. But, he's listening to the rain, and watching Phil. They've got one of Phil's instrumental albums playing over a speaker on the dresser. It's kind of nice.