dirty water : phan

1

I awake with a sudden gasp of air and look around quickly, the boy with cerulean eyes vanishing with the rest of my dream. Looking around, I steady my breath. My room. My bed. My pillows and blankets. I run my fingers through my hair, damp with sweat.

I glance at my alarm clock. 3:36 AM.

I feel the dryness of my throat and decide to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I quickly change into a less sweaty t-shirt and try to slip down the staircase into the kitchen. I am not met with much luck.

"Daniel, what in God's name are you doing going downstairs at 3 in the morning?"

My father stands sneering at me from the doorframe of the room he shares with Jen, my step mother. "Please don't think so low of me, Dad. I'm just getting a glass of water."

I attempt to continue down the stairs but feel a tug on the back of my shirt. My dad has a firm grip on me. His voice suddenly becomes dark and he strains to keep his voice at a whisper. He grits his teeth. "If I hear you even try to leave this house, you know what will happen to you, faggot."

His cruel last words sting as soon as they come out of his mouth. I quickly wriggle out of his grasp and stumble into the kitchen.

My hands shake as I fill the glass tumbler with the icy water; my hands are always shaking, but our conversation put me much further on edge.

I know what he can do to me. What he will do to me, with no hesitation or discouragement from Jen.

I down the water in 4 gulps, rinse out my glass, and race back up the stairs, avoiding my father's room at all costs.

My bed welcomes me with open arms, yet I can't keep my eyes closed. The memories of her appear every time I shut them; I can't even blink without seeing her, hearing her. She makes me sick to my stomach. Sooner or later, my drowsiness takes over my memories and I am lost in my dreams again, much like every other night.

-

The morning comes rapidly and thankfully, classes are no longer in session. I rub my eyes and turn on my phone, finding nothing but more emails and texts from my mother, who always asks me to come around more often. Don't get me wrong, I love her. She just reminds me too much of the life I lived before.

I unwillingly pull myself out of my warm, cozy duvet cave to take a shower. As the water pours over me, I almost feel like I'm too relaxed. Am I forgetting something? What did I do wrong? Stepping out of the shower, I hear my phone's alarm go off. I assume I've just forgotten to turn off my normal alarm when I suddenly realize I have a job interview in 15 minutes.

My morning of relaxation quickly turns into a hurricane of frenzy, formal clothes and loose papers being thrown about until I find my suit jacket.

Five minutes later I'm in my half-broken car, speeding out of my father's driveway with a cigarette in one hand and a bagel in the other. I take one long drag to steady my nerves, another to give me some energy, and one more just for the hell of it. "Shit, Dan, relax. It's just an interview. Calm down prick," I scold myself as I pull into the parking garage near a large apartment complex.

Soon enough I find myself in front of suite 476. I can faintly make out the lyrics to an old Muse song. Shakily, I knock on the heavy door. The music immediately ceases to play and I can hear a confused string of dialogue from a person inside.

The door opens with a swift gesture and I feel as though I've been punched in the stomach. Standing in front of me are familiar blue eyes, fragile freckled skin, and dark dark dark hair that I recognize as unnatural.

"Hello, Phil Lester?" I choke out, "I'm here for an interview?"

The man nods, letting out a chuckle and pulling the door open wider. His shirt and jeans are both stained with colorful patches of paint. "You're late. Trying to charm me?"

I swallow hard and retreat further into the hall. He seems to notice, adding, "Clean look, messy style. I like it."

As soon as I'm inside his flat, the mysterious man slams the door closed and grabs me by my shoulders. I flinch.

He looks me up and down, nodding slowly. Quickly his time shifts from serious to carefree.

"Ah, Daniel, you seem a perfect subject. I think I'm gonna have to give you the job."

My initial smile is replaced by confusion. "I'm sorry, what's the job exactly? Your ad wasn't very clear and I meant to a-"

"Strip."

-
here's the long awaited first chapter! hope you enjoy ;)