As the sky turned lilac and the wind grew cold. Phil Lester walked the streets, sad. Cold. and alone. For no one knew exactly why Phil turned this rather unpleasant way. For everyone they could think of were nothing but nice to him.
A few hours earlier.
Dan...: Ugh.
Phil: What is it Dan?.
Dan: Nothing. Phil. Nothing.
Phil: Please tell me i want to make things alright!
Dan: NO Phil I dont want your help with this!
Phil: ...
Dan: Phil...
Phil: No dan I understand. I'll just go...
A single tear fell from Phil's eye. Like the last drop of a golden sun running off into the deep, damp, harsh world below. Dan walks to the kitchen only to look at the room. Phil's room. It used to be so bright and full of colour. "What happened? What went wrong?" The April showers turned into a thunderstorm, like London suddenly when through some vortex of horror into the stormy sea with thunder and lightning.
Present.
Phil thought to himself. "If dan was out in this rain his hair would be curler than a curly fry." He chuckled. Why can't life just be a bunch of bad puns? Phil's eyes fill up with tears, like a dam just waiting to overflow. "Stop it Phil." he said aloud. Only no one was around to to hear. Several minutes pass. Silence. The ever deafening sound of nothing.
