irl

Chapter 43

Dan awoke the next morning on a random bench, on a random street, at a random location which he did not know. He vaguely remembered walking a little longer after his talk with George and collapsing on the bench, completely exhausted.

He looked extremely homeless, still moist from sweat. When Phil had forced him to leave his own home, he was in sweatpants and a t-shirt. The pants were now damp at the bottoms from walking thorough wet grass and puddles. It had rained the day before.

Dan sat up, extremely uncomfortable. His head throbbed for some reason as he stretched, his back sore from sleeping on the bench for hours. He remembered then that he didn't have his phone to check the time with. So he got up and walked, heading somewhere into the town do at least see what time it was.

He ended up at an ATM, finally remembering that he had money in his bank account. He headed to a convenience store not that far away from where he was. He received looks from the cashier, but he didn't give a fuck as he got a pistachio muffin and a coffee. He used the bathroom to wash his face and splashed some water into his hair, so it wasn't wet from sweat. Not sure it looked much better, honestly.

He left the store and found a different bench to enjoy his small meal on. He hadn't realized that he was starving, and he wolfed down the large muffin and gladly drank the caffeinated coffee to wake him up a little more. He then was in good enough condition to come up with some type of plan. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

~•~

Phil had barely slept that entire night. He was angry with George, angry with Dan, but also worried about Dan. He had banished him into the night with basically nothing, also in an extremely emotional state.

Phil panicked for a moment, wondering if Dan could've possibly offed himself. Phil knew that his mental health was far from normal, but would he do that? Would he just go and... throw it all away?

Phil called Dan, but by that point the phone was long broken and Dan was on the bench, trying to figure out what to do next. He tried using the Find my iPhone app, but of course, it didn't work. The phone was shattered and on the riverbank, there was no hope of it ever working again.

Phil began to worry, why had he flipped out so much?

Dan had to have been feeling those feelings for quite a while... it must've been terrible to keep them held in. So when he got his chance he just let them out, I can't blame him. I screwed up. He could be hurt or worse... it's my fault.

Phil buried his head in his hands, tears forcing their way out of his eyes. How did he even have any tears left to cry? His entire night had been miserable.

For whatever reason, Phil's memory turned against him and decided to dislodge the events of the night Phil had gotten extremely drunk with George. He had been used by George, he realized. He couldn't get the night out of his head, until he began thinking of Dan again.

He repeatedly texted and called him, but to no avail. Dan wasn't answering, and Phil really hoped that Dan was just mad and that he hadn't gone and harmed himself in any way.

Phil finally decided to call the police, typing 999 frantically into his phone.

~•~

Meanwhile, Dan had landed himself in a coffee shop, with a new pair of sweatpants and yet another coffee. It was nearing two in the afternoon, and he still had no idea what to do.

Phil won't want me back, now, after what I did. What was I fucking thinking?! He had just broken up with a boyfriend he believed to be perfect! How could I just go and confess to him like that? Why the fuck did I kiss him? How fucking stupid can I get? How many times in my life am I going to be left alone? When will I not fuck up for once?!

His thoughts were cut off by the news on the television in the shop. He directed his attention as he heard his own name spoken and a picture of himself appear on the screen.

The picture was a selfie of him and Phil in Japan, both smiling wide.

"Local resident, Daniel Howell, has gone missing. Disappearing from his flat last night around midnight. He was last seen wearing sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. If you see him, please report to the police or to his friend, Phil Lester."

Phil.

Dan got up and ran out of the shop, eyes following him out the door. He sprinted down the street, still not knowing his location. He spotted a familiar sign and saw that he was at the cinema where he worked.

He knew where he was.

In half an hour he was at the building where his flat was, panting, out of breath. He had run the entire way.

He trudged his way up the stairs, trying to reach the flat as soon as possible, but also extremely exhausted from running for so long. His legs ached and struggled to support his weight.

He made it to his floor, and stood up straight in front of the door.

"Here goes nothing," he told himself, balling up his hand into a fist and knocking on the door.