Phil Lester is tired of being alone. He has almost reached his 30's and wanted a relationship. One day, Dan found a girlfriend, and Phil was tired of being teased by Dan that he doesn't have a girlfriend yet. One day, Phil went online too hire a fak...
"DAN!" I screamed, as the fire alarm rang before my very ears. "Oh Shit!" He curses loudly. I've been totally pressured with the fire alarm. "Phil..." Dan trails off, staring into the void of burning pancakes. "Yes?" I ask in a distressed tone.
"Your pancakes are burning!" He exclaims, as the brown - gold side of the pancake, become black crusts.
As soon as Dan pointed, I run as fast as I could to stop the pancakes from burning. "What a great way to start the day." Dan says sarcastically. He just ignored everything, As if nothing happened. Dan just went upstairs to the Game Room. All my hard work, for freaking burnt pancakes. I just sneakily, get Dan's cereal out of the fridge and eat it dry.
"I feel like making a video!" I say in a good mood. Me setting up the camera equipment is like Mount Fuji and Mount Everest combining, it needs to be perfect.
"Hello Guys!" I happily chirp. "This Morning, the fire alarm went off and guess what happened..." I say, as I press my lips together, plastering a fake smile. "I burnt my pancakes!" I say, as I hand motion my hand up and down, in a fast way.
"Well, I woke up this morning, and do the usual stuff, then I decided to myself, |Phillip, why don't you make pancakes, for fun y'know?|" I casually say, forming a thinking face."So, I just got my pan and baked some pancakes, or 'baed some pancakes.'" I say, winking to the camera. "Dan's in the gaming room, playing Mario kart or something!" I roll my eyes.
"So, if you're willing too sign this petition for me and Dan to join... The Great British Bake-off! Just comment down below." I joke, laughing hysterically. Baking isn't that bad, right?
"Well gladly, me and Dan have actually been invited too join, but we actually declined." I say, as I plaster a 'sorry' word on my mouth. "Because, we're not very good bakers. For freak-sake, we follow Delia Smith Recipes and mess up." I titter.
"Not saying that Delia Smith is a bad baker!" I decline.
Mia's P.O.V
I let out a sigh, before glancing out the window that overlooked the town of London on a glossy, wet Friday morning.
Usually, I'd just look and scroll into the depths of Tumblr with my laptop but, I don't really feel like it. Looking out, I see a small, blonde-haired little girl, lick her lips, taking several glances at the ice cream truck.
She was tugging her mum's bag and gesturing for her to buy ice cream. I just let out a small laugh. "Mum, I'm going out alright?" I ask, clutching onto my purse. "Sure Honey, just be back before noon." Mum says, full of concern in her voice. Carelessly, I swung my arm to fast and hit my closet. "Ow!" I scream, looking at the red mark on my hand.
Thankfully, my cabinet door opens and I quickly change my clothes:
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