:DAN | danxreader

Chapter Hundred and Twenty

DAN'S P.O.V:

I yawn and check my phone for the millionth time: "Look, they should've landed by now."

"Maybe she just forgot to text you or doesn't have any wifi or data.", Phil says next to me, rubbing his eyes.

"But I made sure she had international data on her phone and she knows how much I worry. So it doesn't add up."

He sighs: "Or maybe you're just a little overprotective of her sometimes."

Groaning, I check my messages again, still nothing.

I know I am being ridiculous but that girl means more than anything to me and all I want is to make sure she is fine. Plus already missing her like crazy doesn't make anything better.

"Dan."

"What?"

"Don't you think you are a little... clingy sometimes?"

"I just worry."

"I don't mean just now. In general. I mean you guys spend every day together. Don't you get annoyed at each other at times?"

I laugh, thinking about all of the fights: "Every single day. But I love her."

"Perhaps a break from another can be a good thing."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing!", he holds up his hands in defense, "I just want you to see the positive in this and not cry about it for days."

"Whatever."

"Whatever? Really? I'm going to bed, you can stay up worrying about nothing if you'd like to do that."

"I'd really like to, actually.", I say and gesture towards to door.

Phil gets up and closes pthe door behind him, annoyed footsteps following.
He just doesn't get it.

She is my everything. Someone I am insanely in deep love with and can't imagine myself without. And not knowing why there is still no sign of her makes me sad and wondering for hours, blankly starring at the TV.

By now it is 3 pm and I've officially not slept for 36 hours, except for forced naps.

And by now, I almost hope that she is sick of me and just wants to be left in peace because I don't want to imagine what could've happened otherwise.

Well I can, since these horrid scenarios get ingraved into my head while dreaming. Every little detail and every little emotion is what I feel during hours of sleep before the sound of my phone rips me out of it.

Immediately, I search for it under the blanket, scanning every little corner, when I finally find it.

But all there is is the alarm to remind me that I have to get ready to go and film the documentary.

Sighing, I crawl from the sofa and drag myself into the bathroom, avoiding mirrors at all costs.

***

"What is the best and worst part of living life online?"

Me and Phil are sitting opposite a camera and about a bazillion lights and people, watching our every move.

The man across the set is bombarding us with questions about us and our 'lives online', that are going to be used for the movie.

They are questions you'll get in every interview ever, so Phil and I don't have to think about what to say and can answer them quickly, it almost sounding like they are rehearsed.

"Um...", Phil begins, trying to make it sound a little more improvised, "For me the best part is having a creative outlet that touches people and influences lives a lot. Seeing people be happy because they watch our videos, so them liking our little creations we do for fun, makes me even happier."

"Exactly. All of the support we get is just insane, isn't it? And it does truly overweight the negative aspects. I mean there are horrible comments, but those are just letters on a display at the end of the day. Also we are both aware that not everyone will like our content and that is completely fine and understandable.", I smile.

"When do these comments cross the line for you?", the man asks in his usual monotone voice.

I clear my throat: "Probably when they start to investigate our private lives, not so much 'plain' hate comments. Some things are just better to keep private."

Phil nods in approval before we continue for another 15 minutes.

After, it is time for our break so we follow some people into what looks like a lounge with couches and a TV that currently has the news on.

I sit down on the sofa right away and pretend to text someone so no one will feel the need to talk to me.

Sometimes, I'll pick up little bits of information during the reports, but nothing except 'teacher from Finland rescues three ducklings', 'fourteen year old boy saves lives during a fire' and some pretty upsetting news stand out to me, until something grabs my attention:

"New York Airport evacuated."