blank canvas ;; phan

.:one:.

There were three people seated in Phil's car. Him, of course, slouched in front of the steering wheel; his sister, Maggie, with one violet earbud slightly visible through her fiery hair; and Bianca, Maggie's blue-haired and bubbly girlfriend.

Phil rolled the knotted end of the string to his hoodie, his thumb brushing over the frayed tip. "Are you sure there isn't anyone else that can drive you? You know how I feel about this," he said, his voice just short of a whine. His cerulean eyes found his sister's, whose were almost the exact same shade of blue.

She replied with a scoff. "You're the only one with both a car and a licence." Her lacquered nails ran through her hair. "And besides, you're better moral support than B is."

That earned an "Oi!" from behind them. Maggie turned around in her seat and gave B a wink while her brother had his eyes transfixed to the steering wheel.

"C'mon then," she pestered, nudging Phil in the shoulder. "We haven't got all night. And Dan hates waiting."

—

Phil was afraid of only two things: spiders and tattoo parlors. Most people could relate to the arachnids, but others laughed at his fear of something as harmless as a tattoo parlor. Sometimes, even Phil laughed with them. But it was when he stepped through the glass doors behind Maggie and B that the fear kicked in. Everything in the dark room was foreign to him, from the heavily tattooed people sitting in various plush chairs that leaned back all the way, to the humongous wall of designs that stared at him to his left. The only thing recognizable was the faint voice of Vic Fuentes playing from above his head.

He took a deep breath. There's nothing to be afraid of, he told himself. He chewed on his hoodie string to try to keep himself calm.

"Dan!" Phil heard, his attention immediately focusing on his sister, who was making her way to a huge figure. He was too far away to see clearly, especially with the lack of light.

"Hey, Mag. Are you seriously getting another? You were only here a few weeks ago." Phil was taken aback. Someone as large as this "Dan" surely couldn't have a voice so ... soft? Phil couldn't think of a better word.

"She's addicted," B stage-whispered. Maggie rolled her eyes.

"Who's this?" he said, walking over to Phil. Dan stepped under the light, and Phil was even surprised by his face, which, although was decorated with piercings, looked softer and gentler than what Phil had expected. His name seemed to suit it perfectly.

Phil let the black string of his hoodie fall against his chest. "I'm, um, Phil," he muttered, cautiously looking into Dan's chocolate eyes. They were almost the same color as his hair, which was styled in a fringe not unlike his own.

"Ah, you must be Maggie's brother." His lips formed a smile, which revealed a deep dimple in his cheek. "She's told me a lot about you," he adds, "and how you hate tattoos."

"Um," he stuttered, unsure of what to say. How would he reply without offending him? "I, uh, I don't have anything against anyone who has any, it's just, I wouldn't get them for myself, y'know? Needles are a bit frightening, along with the idea of something permanent on my skin."

To his relief, Dan laughed. "Nah, mate, it's cool. I get it, I used to be deathly afraid of needles as well." He leaned against the glass counter. "It's sweet of you to come for your sister, though."

Phil could only reply with a shy attempt at a smirk.

Dan led the three of them to another room with better lighting, where Maggie showed Dan what she wanted tattooed. She handed him a piece of paper with a phrase scribbled in black ink; it was too far away for Phil to read it.