alone『 kickthestickz + phan au 』

6

Daniel arrived at his childhood home before sunset and was pleasantly greeted with a warm welcome from his mother.
The door was painted a pale blue, the same colour it had been for all of his life. The paint cracked slightly as he turned the knob to open it. As soon as he stepped foot inside, a huge wave of memories came back to him as if a flood of happiness was drowning the whole house.
He had sat on those very chairs while he grew up, watched that very television, played in that very garden and slept in that very bed. The bed that he would be sleeping in again that night, and for however many other nights he decided to stay here.
He ate dinner with his mum and talked with her throughout the night as the sky went from blue to black and the stars danced across it. He explained everything that had happened since he had last seen her and the two of them shared a multitude of laughs and tears.
'I understand how you feel, son,' she said, 'it was the same with your father. Terrible to lose someone like that. I wish you'd told me about it sooner.'
She eventually ushered him up to his room when it got too late, worried about how his sleeping patterns would be affected by this whole ordeal.
Daniel slept well, dreaming of the house and who he used to be.

Christopher, after spending the day wandering around London aimlessly but happily, slept well surrounded by his art again and awoke in the same way as the day before.
He repeated the cycle, put on new clothes and messed with his hair, moved some canvases so that they would be slightly more out of the way, only this time he had the image of messy hair and dazed eyes stuck inside his brain.
It was without doubt that that hair and those eyes belonged to exactly who he thought they did and this entirely confused him.
Why would PJ be out in the city since he lived further out?
Has he been around the area a lot lately but Chris didn't see him since he was trapped in his bathroom seeing red?
Who was that girl?
Why did he look so tired?
There were so many questions he had but he attempted to brush them aside and went out to have a coffee, yawning as he walked down the street.
Once he got his drink, he walked out the door and strolled along until he reached the park. He sat on a bench in a half-asleep daze and listened to the calm buzz of the city around him.

PJ drank himself silly that night, sipping on his bottle until he couldn't think straight or see anything.
He woke and relapsed into ringing ears and headaches, feelings which seemed strangely normal to him in comparison to his wellness the day before.
Even though he persisted and mumbled something about feeling ill, the girl forced him out of the house once again.
'It's good for you to get out,' she said in her whiny voice, 'you'd just sit in your room and rot otherwise.'
Maybe he would rather rot than listen to her talk all day.
Once they got to the city, the girl dragged him around some more. PJ couldn't believe she'd been doing this for 3 days straight without him actually dying or something of the like.
He certainly did feel like dying and, as they wandered down the street and were met by a particularly large group of pedestrians going the other way, a darkness started slowly creeping into his vision.
Before he knew it, he face was on the coldness of the pavement and slightly hurt from the impact of falling. He didn't register this, though, because he was more than half unconscious.
After a 'hmph' from the blonde girl with him and a slight tug of his arm from her trying to get him up, she realised this and called for help from a passer by.
His slightly lifeless and heavy body was carried down the path and onto a seat of some kind and someone unidentifiable felt his pulse.
He came to eventually, his head lolling from side to side as he squinted his eyes. The girl inspected him and whispered to herself 'water' before skipping off to a fountain in the distance.
This was when PJ realised where he was, a park filled with trees and plants. It was pretty but slightly overwhelming, so he looked straight ahead of him for something else in the sea of green.
In front of him was a bench with another hardly recognisable figure sitting on it. At least, until his eyes focused slightly and he became fully aware that the person in front of him was no stranger but someone he knew very well.
'Chris?'