Phan short stories

I Care...

*this story occurs in their old apartment in in 2013*
Phil's POV
I had woken up pretty early so I figured I'd go "check" on Dan's cereal to make sure the was enough for him in the morning. As I make my way down the hall towards the kitchen I stumble across some sort of giant hard, squishy lump in the carpet. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I start to notice the shape of a body laying face down right in the of the carpet. And of course this body belongs to my positive and upbeat roommate, Daniel Howell. He's laying there in his grey hoodie with horns on the hood. I step over him and continue on to the kitchen without hesitation. He's probably just having an existential crisis...again. I enter the kitchen through the expertly built GLASS DOOR.
I mean who's idea was it to put a glass door in an apartment. Well anyway, I head over to the cabinet and grab the box of crunchy nuts conveniently placed in the front.
Dan really needs to do a better job a hiding his food. It's his fault for having it so easily accessible. After devouring over half of the dry cereal with my hands I head back to my room to go browse through tumblr for a while. I look down a see Dan still on the floor. I would have thought he would've been over it by now.
"Hey Dan?"
He simply replies with a muffled "hmm"
I kneel down and lay beside him. My arms at my side and pressing the left side of my face into the carpet so I can face him.
"Dan"
He turns his head towards me with a blank lifeless stare that pains me to look at.
I place my hand on his back. "What's wrong?"
He sighs and blinks for an exaggerated amount of time. "Nothing"
"Nothing! Dan I've known you for almost 4 years I think I would be able to tell by now when something's wrong."
He sighs. "Have you ever thought about how pointless your life is along with everybody else's."
"No...I try to avoid thoughts and topics like that."
He sigh again. "...and since all of our life's are pointless that we are ultimately pointless..."
"..."
"And since we ourselves are pointless then this gives others no incentive to care about us..."
"...n—
"So that means that no one truly cares about the lives of anyone"
"..."
"...and no one truly cares about me..." a tear escapes his eye and falls onto the carpet. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to respond to a statement like that...
"Dan I car—
"No, no you don't...you're just saying that because that's what society has conditioned us to think..." he begins to turn his head to the side facing away from me but I stop him by grabbing his cheeks and pulling him into a hug. We lay on the floor in each other's arms for at least 15 minutes before I finally break from his grasp and place my hands back onto his cheeks and look straight into his eyes.
"Dan..."
"...."
"...I care"