{{ part two of psychedelia }}
It's been two years since Dan moved out of the apartment to go to a rehabilitation centre, and in that space of time he's heard nothing from Phil. Not even a "hello."
Dan's scared that Phil's moved on and forgotten about him, and since they both stopped vlogging Dan doesn't know what's happening in Phil's life. Is he still living in London? Has he moved back to Manchester? Is he even alive?
So now that Dan is finally off his medication and he's completely clean, he should be happy again, right?
Sometimes, the most painful thing is when the person who you share all of your best memories with becomes a slowly fading memory, and you can't do anything except watch and scream as the past disappears, almost like it never existed in the first place.
And it fucking hurts.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, SEXUAL SITUATIONS, MENTIONS OF DRUGS, VIOLENCE, HIGH LEVELS OF ANGST, BULIMIA, AND THEMES OF SUICIDE. IT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNGER READERS.
Moving to London, finally. New people, new home, new life. You can forget all of your problems back in North America, with the help of someone special...
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Forewarning: I wrote this story many years ago, so I apologize for all the spelling mistakes, grammar issues and the overall overused plot. My writing has since improved, but I'd rather not edit and correct all these things for the sake of looking back on how much I've grown and changed, writing-wise.
Thanks for your understanding!