Get Out Your Damn Umbrellas

Chapter 11

It had been nearly three months now. Three months since either of them had left the apartment, and honestly it felt like decades. In the past during brief periods of reclusiveness they'd at least had the internet as a means of staying connected with the outside the world. Nowadays Dan could hardly go near a computer, or a video camera for that matter. The one time he saw Phil attempting to move the video equipment out of his bedroom and back up to the gaming room, Dan turned white as a sheet before dashing back into his room and hiding in the wardrobe.

Phil managed to coax him out of hiding about an hour later, and that's when saw the bloodstains on Dan's face and clothes, evidence of another nosebleed. After helping him get cleaned up, he tried asking him what had happened, but Dan shook his head and mumbled that he didn't want to talk about it.

Phil mainly used his laptop for checking his email or taking a look at their slowly dwindling bank accounts. Occasionally he searched for pictures of dogs to try to cheer himself up, but he avoided logging on to any of his social media accounts. He dreaded the thought of going onto Tumblr or Twitter or YouTube and seeing their audience writing panicked posts and messages, spouting wild theories, or simply leaving. They'd probably lost quite a few subscribers by now.

There was a chance that Dan might never want to return to YouTube, but Phil still wasn't ready to face that grim possibility. He knew that he didn't want to make videos on his own, but maybe he could get a regular job and try to support them both for a while until Dan got better. Either way, couldn't let Dan spend the rest of his life trapped in isolation. This was no way to live.

The trouble with Phil constantly ignoring his phone was that his family liked to keep in touch, and so it shouldn't have been such a surprise to Phil when he heard a loud, urgent knock on the door at eleven o'clock in the morning. Of course, Phil had become much more cautious about answering the door, and so he stood waiting in the entryway for about a minute until he heard Martyn's voice on the other side.

"Phil, Dan, are you there?" More loud banging. "For God's sake, open up!"

Phil quickly turned the lock and opened the door in time to see his brother's expression change from panic to relief. Martyn rushed inside and wrapped Phil in a tight hug. "Christ," Martyn said with a long exhale. "I was seriously considering calling the police. I've been calling your phone all morning. Why haven't you pick up?"

"Oh, um," Phi mumbled, his arms still hanging by his sides. "I must have left it on silent by accident." His body felt rigid and awkward, not being used to experiencing this much physical contact in quite a while. Martyn took notice and let go of him.

"Hey, you alright? You seem a bit off." Finally getting a good look at him, he could see that Phil looked a bit paler and thinner than when he last saw him, and his bright blue eyes seemed to have lost their spark.

"I'm fine. Just haven't gotten much sleep lately," Phil answered, hoping he didn't look as terrible as he felt.

As much as Martyn wanted to sit down and have a chat about what was really going on, there wasn't time for that at the moment. "Look, we have a bit of an emergency. The reason I was calling you was because Mum and Dad are in town. They stayed at my place last night, but now they're wanting to come over to see you."

"Oh God," Phil muttered, glancing apprehensively at the closed door. "They're not here now, are they?"

"I told them that you'd meet them for lunch in Trafalgar Square. You'd better hurry and get over there, or they might just come barging in."

In a hurried frenzy Phil put on his shoes and grabbed his coat. Instead of heading straight out the door, however, he stopped and looked back at the stairwell. "I can't leave Dan here by himself," he said quietly. "I can't, I promised-"