A Hundred Days | Dan Howell x Reader

Chapter 28.

idk what time//day it is and high school is both wonderful and horrific so i'm updating

just
just go with it, frens

AND THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH BEAUTIFUL READERS; I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH YOUR LOVEL READS AND VOTES AND COMMENTS MEAN TO ME + I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BOOK HAS OVER 900 READS— love yous!!

~Tina x

• • • • • •

You'd accepted.
For who would pass up the opportunity of a lifetime?
Who could?

Sure, you'd be leaving the city of your dreams, and your best friends, but New York had something London had not deigned to offer: the path to your career as an author. A bestselling author, as good as Orwell, as good as Rowling, or Tolkien. Austen would be no match for you, and the Bronté sisters could only have dreamed of attaining the life you soon would.

So what did it matter that you left a few people behind? It was unlikely they'd miss you, with all the glamour of their lives— YouTubers, a singer-songwriter, and a director/producer for the BBC, wasn't it? Radiant Eileen would find another flat mate with which to ambush when they came around corners, Dodie would take her girlfriend to see every horizon's sunsets, Evan would tour with his friends the best restaurants in the city, Louise would find another bargain-shopping partner, Liam would eventually take his child swimming, Phil would go back to baking with Dan, gaming with Dan, taking pictures of Dan around the most beautiful places on Earth, and Dan? Well, he would find someone else more worthy of his affection, someone as pure and beautiful as Phil, or somebody as violently passionate as Eileen, and you would be forgotten. You were okay with that, you told yourself, because as magical as the past eighty-eight days had been, those were only eighty-eight days and nothing more, while New York would be the rest of your life. London had been an adventure, but it was time to move on.

"Eileen", you flopped down beside her on your couch that evening, "I have something to tell you".

"Mmmmmmm", she said, encouraging you to go on, though she seemed absorbed by the email she was hurriedly typing. You looked over her shoulder and caught words such as Broadchurch, Tennant, Jodie, Doctor Who, before Eileen snapped her MacBook shut. "Yes, Y/N?" she said sharply.

You wrung your hands nervously. Then the story flooded out, from the cheering in the office, to Michael being a bastard, to Mr. Osbourne advising you to take the job the Times were offering.

Eileen sat with her mouth agape. "And I thought my boss launching Broadchurch's series four a month after Doctor Who's eleventh was big news".

"Hang on", you stopped her, "you work directly for Chris Chibnall?!"

"Whoops", Eileen bit her lip. "Not really supposed to say, so you don't mind keeping that quiet, do you?"

"No, no problem..." You paused. "Have you met David Tennant?"

Eileen smiled wryly. "On my agenda for next week".

"You're JOKING!"

Eileen gave a squeal of delight, "Certainly not!"

"Can I meet David Tennant?!"

"Honey", Eileen sent you a look, "you're moving to New York next Monday and I'm meeting the good sir on Tuesday".

You made a face.

"But New York, huh?" Eileen brought you back on topic.

"Yep", you said, popping the letter p as you nodded.