The Bigger Picture (Phan)

Chapter 1

*Dan's P.O.V.*

October, 23

I stood in front of the blank canvas, biting my lip in concentration. It's an amazing thing, really, that you can take something so plain, and turn it into something unique and beautiful. To me, painting and drawing, are a lot like life. You start out with a blank slate, and It's up to you what you put in your world. You could create something lovely, that makes people stop and stare because they are absorbed in the wonderful things you've created, or you can create something hideous and foul, and people will still stop to have a look, but only to judge you, and ridicule you, because you chose to make something ugly and bad, instead of something bold and beautiful. Life, is the same way.

You choose to  do good, and people will think you are a kind, beautiful person.
You choose to do bad, and people will think you are a mean, ugly person.
However, I find that what you see on the outside, is not always the same as what's on the inside.
As those thoughts swirled around inside my brain, the living embodiment of my metaphor walked in. I couldn't help but smile as Phil Lester, the school's rebel sat next to me.
"Hello, Phil." I said, cheerfully.
He ignored me and slipped his ear buds in. I sighed and looked back to the canvas in front of me. I smirked slightly as I realized what I wanted to paint.
I got out my pencil and sketched the rough outline of my picture.
Phil hadn't always been like this. He'd changed.
When we were younger, Phil had been a nice, happy young man with a promising career ahead of him. Now, he was the kid all the teachers gave up on. They didn't try to get him to participate in class anymore, because they knew it was a lost cause. I still don't know why he...changed. He wont tell me why, and that hurts sometimes. I'm his only friend, but he barely ever talks to me.
I sighed and shook my head to get rid of the bad thoughts. I had to think happy, live happy. I have to be happy for both of us. 
I began to paint over the lines I had drawn, my brow creasing in concentration. As I made the last stroke with my paintbrush, I smiled brightly, and took off  my smock, setting it down on the chair next to me. I looked at my picture with admiration, and turned to tap Phil on the shoulder. 
He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised.
"I painted you something." I told him.
He had a confused look on his face as he took out his ear buds.
"What?" He asked.
"I painted you something." I said again, motioning to the painting next to me.
It was of me and him, sitting on the floor in his room. He looked over at the picture, and his expression didn't change.
"Oh." He replied simply, before slipping his ear buds back into his ears.
I frowned deeply, tears threatening to escape out of the corners of my eyes. He didn't say thanks, he didn't say it was good. I mentally scolded myself, saying that I should have expected this from Phil by now.
"Yeah, oh. " I whispered to myself.