addicted (phan)

The Morning After

(tw: mentions of assault)

NINE

Phil woke up tangled in the sheets, his body pressed against Max's. His cheeks heated up, realizing what he'd done. That was his first time.

Phil took a bit to admire Max before sitting up, looking for his phone. Once he realized it was out in the livingroom, he got out of bed and slipped some pants on before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. He grabbed his phone and his heart skipped a beat once he saw how many missed texts and calls he had. Most were from Cassidy and some were from Miles, but none were from Dan.

He furrowed his eyebrows and called Cassidy, every ring making him more anxious. Finally towards the last few rings, it stopped, and Cassidy's voice rang out.

"Phil."

She sounded exasperated- worried almost. There was background noise, indicating she wasn't home.

"What's wrong? Why'd you text me so much last night?"

"It's Dan. He overdosed."

Phil wished he never fought with him, guilt and fear and sadness rushing through him all at once. His eyes watered and he began to shake. "Is he- . . ."

"They won't let us see him. They had to pump his stomach. Xans."

"Where did he even-"

"His first psychiatrist gave him Xanax prescription for his anxiety but he got addicted so he had to change. We thought he got rid of the old medication but I guess he had it stored away. We went to the hotel and woke up to go check on Dan since we knew he was upset."

"Oh no. . ."

"When we went to his room. . ." Cassidy continued. "He was on the ground shaking- vomit all over his shirt. We drove him to the hospital and we've been here since last night. We're thinking about canceling the concert tomorrow. He's asleep right now."

"I'm on my way."

Phil hung up and went back into Max's bedroom to get his stuff, finding his boyfriend sitting up and yawning. "Morning. . . Are you okay? You seem a bit rushed." He stood up.

"Something happened and I can't stay. I'm so sorry, Max, I really am. Last night was amazing but I have to go."

"What if I go with you? I could be moral support."

"No I really don't think that's a good idea-"

"Why not?"

"Max I really have to go-"

Max averted his eyes, hiding his sad expression by looking out the window. "Yeah whatever. I get it. Just go."

"Max-"

"Go," he repeated sternly, voice breaking.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Phil hurriedly grabbed his stuff and left without another word, not knowing what to say. He called a cab and went for the hospital, walking in and finding Cassidy and Miles sitting in the waiting room looking anxious. They stood once they noticed Phil, rushing over to him and initiating a group hug.

"Is he awake?"

"Yeah, just woke up. It's one person at a time. I don't know how he'll react to you though."

"I don't care. I have to see him."

Cassidy gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before patting him on the back, sending him into the room where Dan stayed.

He pushed open the door and Dan instantly looked up at him, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here, Dan?" Phil shot back. "Do you understand how serious this is?"

"Yes."

"Then why? Your friends were right there, Dan, I don't know why you didn't just-"

"Talk to them?" Dan finished with a snarl. "Get help? Well, you see, Phil- what I've been through. . . I can't be helped. I can't make it go away. I can strive to make it better than my past, but what happened to me will forever haunt me."

"Well what am I supposed to do if you don't talk to me? You don't talk to any of your friends. We all want to help, and don't bullshit me and tell me you don't want it. I know that deep down you want help- I saw it in your eyes when we fought last night. Please just talk to me so I can prevent this from happening again."

"I didn't try to kill myself," Dan said. "If that's what you think, you're wrong. I just wasn't paying attention. I'm not suicidal, I'm just a bit too carefree. I do stupid things-I don't think. And that's the biggest thing about my past: I'm still too carefree."

Phil cautiously moved towards Dan as he spoke, sitting on his hospital bed.

"I was a teenager. Insecure high school kid with an unsupportive family. I wanted out, I wanted to make my own family, even if they weren't much better- even if they were worse. So that's what I did," Dan breathed out, sitting up and fumbling with his hands. "I met a group of guys- all druggies, but they loved music as much as I did. We'd get drunk or high every night and my parents never questioned where I was. I had too much freedom."

"Finally, one night," Dan continued, "after I finally realized how toxic it all was, I told them it was the last time I'd hang out with them. I told them I had to get my life together, that I was too young to be this fucked up already. I wanted to get better and they-. . ." Dan squeezed his eyes shut. "They didn't like it."

"Dan, they didn't. . . did they?" Phil murmured. Dan nodded his head slowly, a tear escaping one of his eyes.

"They started shouting at me, telling me I'd be nothing without them. . . I tried to leave but all I remember was hands- hands pinning me down and shouting and myself screaming until it felt my throat had ripped in half. They hurt me when I was sober, so I get high and drunk because that was when I wasn't hurt. I do all of these things so I don't have to think about it."

"Is that why the band is called Addicted?"

Dan let a small smile crawl onto his lips, looking at Phil with teary eyes before nodding again. "I started it. I met Miles and Cassidy at a low budget concert. We instantly bonded, and I decided they'd be my family from then on. A good one. And they haven't failed me since."

"Nobody can hurt you anymore, Dan. You can keep getting better. Please just let me help with that."

Dan suddenly got angry again, shaking his head. "You can't."

"Why?" Phil questioned.

"Because of Max."

"What is your problem with him? We stopped talking all because of him, you're really gonna bring him up again? What is it, Dan? I-"

Dan cut him off, as sharp as a knife.

"I have feelings for you."