The years of YouTube, and fame and shipping were long gone. Pressured relationships are difficult to withhold, and the fear of Dan and Phil's relationship entering the public eye for good caused them to break off. They'd decided, politely, to remain friends- but of course this is always just a ploy to ease the tension. They hardly spoke for three years; the love still remained however. It was distant, but it was there, an unbreakable, eternal emotion.
Phil still lived in the apartment from all those years ago. Every picture and ornament in exactly the same place as it had been in the time when he lived with Dan. Though, Dans bedroom was desolately empty, his bed stripped of its covers, every decoration torn away from the bare walls. It was lonely, but the air still lingered with memories, and his beautiful smell, a sexy concoction of aftershave and a rough musty-ness. On a bad day, Phil would stand silently in the doorway, breathing in the scent, as tears rolled down his cheeks. He'd mutter:
"I love you Dan".
It was strange- almost disturbing- as if Dan had died- but he hadn't died- he was very much alive- or at least he was living.
Living, in fact, around 50 miles from his old home, in the suburbs of East London. Not alone though, like Phil, Dan had found a new partner. Madeleine. She was a year younger than Dan, and similarly as intelligent as him with a degree in Physics. She looked bright, long flowing brown hair; curling loosely but hanging with sections catching the light- a hazel halo. Her eyes were deep, meaningful, dark windows to her soul, surrounded by black framed glasses. Pale skin and pink lips, with a tiny waist and a perfect bust. She was the type to wear unique clothes and skirts that gripped tightly to her curves. She was effortlessly beautiful. Definitely matching Dan's standards.
Although her looks were interesting, her personality lacked slightly. She was kind and sweet, but far too ordinary in comparison to Phil who was quirky and adorable. She loved Dan- and would never do a thing to hurt him. Dan used to feel the same way, but years of living with a man who caused clumsy disruption every second, who laughed at just about anything, who was generally fun and amazing had caused his feelings for Madeleine to die out, and were replaced with the increasing need to fulfil Phil's absence.
It was a cold day in January. Phil came in from his job at a visual effects studio. He ran up the dark stairs, and peered at the dusty ceiling which still held a broken lightbulb from around 6 years before. He was too afraid to fix it.
It was one of those days when the air was so sharp and brisk that each breath forced a rush to race down your spine, exploding in your body and causing an external reaction of a small shiver. The kind of day when the air moulded into steamy vapour on every exhale. Phil sat with his back to the radiator in his bedroom. He glanced at the camera tripod at the corner of the room that he occasionally used for projects at work. The camera was old and battered, and had been dropped so many times. Phil removed the memory card and threw it to the other side of the room, hesitating before his computer. He didn't want to relive those memories today. Walking to the bathroom, he stopped and peered into the mirror. He'd never seen the beauty that he'd been said to have. Goodness knows why. He was so beautiful. He sighed slightly at the sight of his babyish face, his cheeks still smoother than chocolate.
Dan.
Dan was all he could think of.
But why?
They hadn't spoken properly in months. Barely a text. He understood that Dan had a relationship now.. But how did he break it off so fast?
Suddenly Phil sensed a horrible feeling of worthlessness.
Maybe he just meant nothing. It was just a boyish fling that was enforced by a few thousand hormonal teenage girls.
But it wasn't, was it?
You don't say "I love you" if you don't mean it.
You can't look at someone like that.
Phil grabbed for his phone. It felt hot against his icy hands. He typed a message to Dan:
I miss you.
No, too forward. He backspaced the text.
How you doing?
No, he'd lie, he'd say "fine", when he probably wasn't. His awkwardness didn't allow him to draw attention to himself. He backspaced the text.
Call me when you get this?
No, he'd ignore it. He backspaced the text.
Dan, I need to talk.
There was still chance he wouldn't respond, but perhaps the suspense would cause him to reply back.
It was strange how he felt so nervous about texting someone who he'd been best friends with since he was in his early twenties. Someone that he'd once shared his entire life with.
* * * *
Dan's phone buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up and stared, open mouthed as soon as he caught a glimpse of the contact name. His hands were shaking. He swallowed, his throat was coarse and dry.
"You okay Dan? You look ill?" Said Madeleine, head on one side.
"What... Yeah. I'm.. I'm fine." Stammered Dan with a short nod.
"Excuse me Maddy." He grabbed the phone and ran to the bathroom, locking the door. Inside, he felt amazing and ecstatic that the love of his life had contacted him at last, yet there was an aspect of unsureness- stomach butterflies- the insect of anxiety.
His hands were shaking too much to type a message, so he took a deep breath and called Phil. He answered straight away.
"Hi.." His tone was flat. Lifeless.
"Hello."
"I.. I um..." Phil sounded so strange, nervous and withdrawn. It was like it wasn't even Phil.
"What? You said you wanted to talk?" Dan's nerves caused his voice to come across sharper than he intended.
"Yeah.. Well if I'm interrupting then it doesn't matter.."
"No. No you're not at all phil." Said Dan, suddenly calm and gentle.
"I.." Phil sniffed.. Was he crying? "I just.. Can we meet soon? I need to see you."
"Phil.." Of course he wanted to meet. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with him... But he couldn't.
"I'm sorry. You've got Maddy now.. This is my fault."
"No not at all..look, I'll meet you Thursday.. Hey what about China town?"
"Yeah. Yeah okay. See you then Dan."
"Bye Phil."
"I love you Dan."
Dan cut away the line. But he smiled to himself and murmured, his voice coated in his breath:
"I love you too, Philip Michael Lester."
