Not On Fire (Phan AU)

30 | it's hard not to

It's hard not to hear the whispers. They were quiet at first, undetectable--faint noises in the background that he didn't even pay attention to whatsoever. But now they're louder, the people more confident that he doesn't have a lighter hidden away somewhere--ever wonder why he got such a lenient sentence? Rumor has it he fucked the chief's son. Not all of it's bad, some just facts--that he burned a bunch of places and got off practically scot-free--but it's often sneered, a hateful look on the person's face.

It's got even worse now. Has spread like wildfire from a small few to almost everybody. Not even his roommates are safe territory now. Everywhere he goes he gets weird looks and murmurs follow his every move.

He doesn't fit in with the outcasts and he sure as hell doesn't fit in with the rest either.

He spends most of his time--like right now--in his bed, scribbling away on whatever piece of paper he can get a guard to give him, writing down pieces of his story that don't quite have a place yet. But his head is brimming with ideas, finding motivation in the sheer fact that he has nothing else to do except this. No way to smoke or light a fire. No way to just escape for a second or two.

His roommates provide little solace.

The only person to blame is himself. He got himself into this situation by digging a hole and thinking it was a good idea to jump right in, and if climbing out means getting dirt under his nails, so be it.

But that doesn't stop him from keeping a count-down in his head until he can finally get out--at this point, three weeks and four days. His parents have visited a few different times, but Phil hasn't come back since then. With his parents, slow progress is being made--the first time they came here, they were quiet almost the whole time, little words being exchanged, but little by little, visit by visit, they've started talking more. They still haven't addressed what happened, not since that night in the police station. But they did tell him the last time they came that Louise would be coming soon, and he's been on edge ever since.

What would she say? She had been the one to walk in on him with a lighter in his hand as he burned memories he wished he didn't have. She had been given more clues than anybody, but Phil had been the one to piece them together without even trying. It's too hard to think about but the thoughts refuse to leave. They weigh heavy on his chest since he has no one to talk to. Despite being surrounded by his roommates.

Alex and Jake are sitting on the bottom bunk, huddled together and talking so no one can hear them. Austin is in his bed, saying nothing. Every so often, Alex looks up at Dan, offers a small smile, but Jake just turns to look at Dan and glares whenever this happens. He just smiles right back and acts as if everything is right in the world even though it clearly isn't.

He'd talk to Austin, but he's more of a lone wolf, which is more apparent than anything else about him. Plus he's pretty sure he's not exactly the happiest with him, either, if him taking every opportunity to distance himself from Dan is any indication.

He's become an outcast among the outcasts. Nobody thinks what he did is cool anymore, and he's not exactly sure that's a bad thing. He misses it--definitely--but he knew it had to stop sooner or later. He couldn't live his whole life living in fear of being caught and needed that push of getting in trouble to finally see the other side. That toying with fire doesn't make him powerful; it makes him a criminal.

He's on top of his bed, scribbling away on a piece of paper he was able to get from a guard in the morning. He was worried he wouldn't be able to write in here, but the words have yet to stop flowing. He's not even writing about what's going on now, but getting caught up with everything that's happened since the last thing he wrote. Typically, he doesn't like reliving memories, but this is oddly therapeutic, even though he can see every mistake he made clearly now.