Drama Llamas | Phan

1- Unfortunate

- P.L - 

I pulled the hoodie tighter around me. It was getting cold out and I desperately didn't want to stay in it any longer. Hurrying onwards down the road, I noticed a young couple trotting loudly, bashfully marching down the road towards a nightclub. My eyes latched onto them for a few seconds - and in those moments I noticed something fall from the woman's back pocket. As I got closer, I began to make out what it was through the evening mist.

It was a small, squared leather object. I recognised it immediately. I picked it up and rushed into the nightclub after the two. It was loud and stuffy - I absolutely hated it. I scanned the room for the couple and spotted the woman immediately, now by herself. Rushing forwards with the need to get this over with quickly, I tapped the woman briskly on the shoulder. Her head whipped round, eyes meeting mine.

"Uhm, excuse me?" I began, holding the purse out infront of me. "You dropped this in the street." A look of suprise entered her face and she quickly took it from me.

"Thanks." She murmered. There was a short awkward silence before I made my move to leave. 

"Wait!" She stuttered, grabbing my hand before I could go. "You're Phil Lester, aren't you? You know from TV?" I gulped, I'd badly feared she would recognise me, but my hopes had all now gone and died. I nodded, smiling. The woman then began to smirk a little.

"Hey, why don't you stick around for a bit. Have a few drinks, get a little... Dirty..." She winked at me. I struggled out of her grip, shaking my head. A gold digger - just my luck. "Uhm, no thanks! I don't drink and don't you already have a boyfriend?" I replied quickly, taking a small step backwards. She looked a little disappointed. "Oh c'mon, I'm sure you're not all pure like you're made out to be on TV. Plus, I'm sure he won't mind. I'm planning on dumping that asshole anyway."

The woman tutted shortly, sticking her tongue out at me. Before I could do anything else, the man she'd been with before sprinted towards us. "You bastard!" He shouted at my face. "Stop hitting on my girlfriend, you dick!" I shook my head furiously.

"No, no! I wasn't! She just... Dropped her purse. I came in to give it back to her." I explained quickly, maybe a little too quickly...

"Dropped her purse my ass! I walked with her all the way here and I would've noticed if something like that had happened!" He yelled at me, spit coming flying out of his mouth in his rage. 

I continued to shake my head in fear and shock. "I-I wasn't hitting on her! Plus, I think I should warn you that this same 'girlfriend' of yours just hit on me because I'm famous and called you an asshole!" I replied, anger slipping into my tone. The man stared at me for a few seconds, before realisation and recolection entered his expression. "You're Phil Lester from TV, aren't you! I can't believe it..! I thought you were a cool guy from TV, n' stuff, but looks like that was all just you're public persona, eh?!" 

I was lost for words. Enraged, I attempted to calm myself down. I took in a heavy breath. "Look. I wasn't hitting on you're girlfriend, alright? I was just helping her." I turned to leave, ignoring the shouts of protest coming from the man's mouth. I caught one last glimpse of the woman beside him, spotting a satisfied smirk on her face. I grimised, quickening my pace to a jog as I hurried out of the nightclub. 

~~

I was ready for the morning. I've successfully gotten out of bed, brushed my teeth, eaten and clothed myself and now I'm standing, effortlessly staring outwards from my doorway. I'd been browsing late into the night on tumblr, exploring my hashtag to see exactly what my fans thought of me. I'd found a bunch of silly edits from TV moments, pervy fanart and a bunch of quotes from when I've accidently blurted out something stupid on TV.