Downfall Of Amplification -Phan-

"and i know i can't handle anything without losing my mind"

As I step out of Dan's apartment I realize it's snowing. It's bright, so bright on my very tired morning eyes. My cheeks push against the bottom folds of my eyes, it's obvious I've been crying. I'm selfish for crying, of course. I feel guilty that I haven't visited home in years, haven't seen my sister in longer. She was there for me when I was young, practically raised me in the summers when our mum had to work.

I feel like the world has stopped dead in its tracks of turning. Dan's hand is curled around mine but I drop it once I push forward, eyeing the snowflakes that seem to freeze in the air. The ground is blindingly white, the cars are slow in this weather. Breathing out my eyes follow the trail of fog that leaves my mouth.

Dan's scarf is tied loosely around my neck and my coat is stiff from months of not wearing it. I wish I was there for her more, I should have at least called a few times, seen how she was. I don't even know what she's doing anymore, could she be working? Last time I remember she worked at the library across our house. That was summers ago when she was young and in college and not sick.

I want to see her, Dan has insisted I go but Mike asks me to stay. He needs me, so does Dan. He's still going through too much for someone, he's tense because of Mike and now my problems. He doesn't need all of this in his life. He deserves to enjoy all of the music and attention like he did years ago. I feel like I'm a weight tied to his ankle, weighing him down. Mike carries the same accessory in my eyes, how could I become this destructive?

"Hey, Phil?" Dan's voice is soft and reluctant like he's stepping on unstable ice. Be careful, Dan, that weight around your foot isn't going to help. I'll drag you down, down, down to the depths of the sea.

I turn around slowly, his face is stoic, "Yeah?" He must be in deep thought. He goes blank when he thinks deeply, it scares me. It reminds me too much of when we first met and he was just a soulless body floating through his days.

"We can reschedule the interview, we don't have to go." His eyes snap to life as he takes my hands, "Mike will be mad but I'll say it's my fault."

"No, I'm fine." I smile to try and show him it's true. To try to convince myself it's true. This is a big deal, Rolling Stones is interviewing us, Dan mostly I assume. This is his chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the magazine. He doesn't need it, I know that but Mike does and he was very assertive about us going. 'Dan needs to be seen in a good light again.'

His nose is turning red as we make our way through the streets, hand in hand. We decided to walk the few blocks it takes to get to the office. Dan said the fresh air might help me, I nodded at his enthusiasm. Dan is rarely the one to spew out a comment that isn't pessimistic.

The clouds are white, the street is white and it all feels too clean. I try not to think about how Samantha is seeing an equal amount of the stuff. Instead of snow, however, she has the pleasure of seeing walls and floors and gowns. I should have thought about her more, should have been there.

The door has a giant label of the Rolling Stones plastered on the front. Dan squeezes my hand tighter, "Don't worry about it, I'm sure they'll be nice."

Dan laughs, "I hope they are. I honestly just don't want to piss Mike off." He shakes his head, "But that's not important right now, let's just go."

As we stumble in I try to imagine the sight of us. A puffy-eyed boy with stark black hair and a stressed looking Dan Howell with hollow cheeks and uncombed hair, "Dan Howell, Phil Lester." A man at a desk greets us. Dan lets my hand fall and goes to talk to him. I would follow but my feet are stuck and my mind is elsewhere. The large windows that framed the outside of the building highlight the interior design work. The floors are a dark wood and the walls are bricks, covered in signs and posters.