$20 For You {D.H. & P.L.}

Vodka

Dan

My thoughts were proved right from yesterday.

    I actually made sure to bring an Advil, because I knew he'd have a hangover. Funny, how i managed to guess that, and the fact he's hungover isn't the least obvious thing ever. His eyes are bloodshot, from what looks like lack of sleep and too much vodka, I'm surprised he's even here. Before he's even in the school gates, his walk is swaying, and his hand scrapes the wall. His typical dress up is failed today, with light blue skinny jeans, and a white button up. The raven fringe he has, is sticking up in tuffs, his usual flower crown abandoned.

   He can't go to school like this. No way in HELL was he going to. Making a beeline jog to the gate where Phil is struggling, his feet patting against the wet pavement. The boy looks even worse up-close, his eyes also look like they've been crying, no matter how hard you try you can never conceal sad eyes. "Phil, hey look at me." Snapping my fingers near his face, attempting to get his attention. His eyes follow my finger lazily, and I know I've got his attention, or at least the amount I'm gonna get from him hungover. "Phil, you aren't going to school like this, I'm driving you to my house, okay?" My dear god, he reeks of alcohol, he wouldn't last 5 minutes in that school. Grabbing his arm, and he doesn't protest, or he doesn't have the energy pick one.

   "Wait, Dan where are you taking me?" He asks, his words slurred, and his breath smelling like alcohol worse then he does. "My place. You can't go to school like this, we are skipping. Understand?" Gazing straight into his eyes, I search his blotchy face for a sign that he understands. I mean weather he does or doesn't, I don't care. Unlocking my car, he gets into the passenger side haphazardly, as I get into the drives side. The car starts up immediately, as I begin my journey home.

    

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Phil

   How the hell am I here. The last I remember is- Oh SHIT. Now I know, and I feel extremely awkward. "Oh come off your innocent act already, don't tell me you've never woken up on someone else's couch before." I hear a sharp voice ring out, making me jump. It's then I see Dan stroll into my view, his typical black ensemble. Black combat books that go up to his mid shin, black skinny jeans, and a regular hoodie. His piercings out for once, his fringe having a slight curl. On the coffee table in front of me, I see a bottle of water and an Advil.

   Downing it quickly, and being grateful for it, but slightly taken a hurt to his comment. His comment isn't exactly wrong, but it's not exactly accurate. It's a healthy balance of both correct and not correct. Sitting down casually next to me, and pulling out his phone, I catch a glimpse of his wrists. Scars line them, and from what I'm gonna assume are from self-harm from the looks of them. "Okay, so maybe I'm not the most innocent but I'm not like you." I snap harshly, feeling really no remorse for my words.

   His harsh glare focuses on me, before he stands up, pulling a cigarette carton, and lighter out of his pocket. "You know nothing about me. Now, if you want to continue this conversation, you could follow me to the balcony." He shrugs, and starts walking towards a sliding glass door I never noticed. Now I'm starting to get a good look at this place, it's plainly decorated, but it's obvious two people live here. Just a question of who, and where are his parents. If he even has any, considering the rumors that go around. Slowly I walk out onto the balcony and the sun is setting over the hills. The familiar smell of a cigarette hits my nose, as I see Dan with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. The glowing embers slowly going up as he inhales the killer gas. "Yea you slept for a while there. Tyler questioned why I had a guy sleeping on our couch," He laughs, his voice slightly hoarse, not even turning to look at me.

   "Why do you always act so secretive?" I ask boldly, because somewhere in me there was courage that I had no clue existed. "I'm Dan, the punk guy who lives a secret life. I don't get a date, and I'm me. Nobody has even been to this house, so congrats on being special." He coughs on the killer gas, but this time actually looks at me, his eyebrows raised, searching for a response. "Who's Tyler?" I blurt out, and realize I will probably never regret anything else again after this one. "My roommate. He's with his boyfriend Troye, right now, you were probably gonna ask where he was." He shrugs, and puts the cigarette in the ash tray, putting it out.

    "You don't live with your parents?" I inquire, taking in his casual appearance. He's slouched, whilst tapping his fingers on the railing of the balcony. Looking down it gives me a slight vertigo feeling, but I ignore it. "Kicked me out when I was 15." Yet again, he shrugs like he doesn't care. It's kinda funny really, how people act like they don't care, when they really do. It usually makes sense why people act the way they do, like Dan. He doesn't care about people very much, and it's hard for him. His parents kicked him out, so he feels rejected, simple.

   You take me for example, supposedly happy, dresses in bright colors, makes everyone laugh despite the bullies. Despite what happened that night when I was- No Phil you don't talk about that, it's the past. Which makes me curious, why is Dan caring about me. "I'm to lazy to drive your ass home, just stay here for the night, I'll take the couch you can take my room." He walks off the balcony leaving me to think in my own terms.