Opportunities. If he had a nickel for each time he heard the word in the timespan of an average schoolday...
He eyed his homework. At least half an hour ago, he'd been confronted with a fair threat of a ghost, and, usually, he called his friends in for assistance when such an event went down. Today, he hadn't. A heavy stone was planted in his chest, he wondered why he hadn't thought of it earlier. Of course they'd get tired, eventually. The good side of it was it had taken longer than he would've expected it to. That meant they really cared for him. It wasn't that Sam's exasperated looks weren't becoming more pointed and deliberate as the days went by. Why would she do that?
He was a stupid, overdramatic drama-king for feeling these subtle prickles of hurt, buried beneath layers and layers of denial—swallow the bile, swallow the god damn bile. An emotional teenager full of bull, down to the core. Whatever.
Even Jazz was beginning to wince and huff whenever her beloved little brother brought up the all-important subject. Or, well, it was incredibly consuming to Danny, but that was only because he was half-ghost and everything. It was his fault for bothering them so much. The hunting and fighting took up so much of his time, he'd naturally assumed the others viewed it the same way. He was selfish.
They still had the chances he'd long since given up on. It still mattered whether or not they got decent grades, scholarships were waiting for them, colleges across the country overflowed with possible futures.
And that was perfectly fine.
NASA... Danny didn't technically need to breathe, did he? No, he could just float up and stargaze at all the nebulas and quasars whenever he wanted, right? Yeah... gravity didn't affect him so much anymore, he could moonwalk on lava! He wasn't missing out on anything. His teachers' disappointment in him shouldn't cut him so much. The ghosts did that enough as it was—in the literal sense.
After all, Danny Fenton-Phantom already had a half-lifelong career, one that booked no distractions... including an education.
Satisfied with his nightly forced, carefully crafted lies, Danny slept; once again, ignoring the assignment Mr. Lancer had given him. His back still ached and throbbed from the impact of a towtruck that was slugged into his spine, it wasn't as if he could concentrate on much else but rest.
(Outside his window, Plasmius smiled grimly.)
A/N: What do you think? I wanted to try some Danny!angst... Plasmius wasn't kidding when he claimed only halfas could understand halfas. And let's be honest, besides the ghost involvement, Tucker and Sam, and even Jazz, are all normal teenagers. They're going to have their moments of self-centered stupidity due to their inexperience, and Danny's more likely than not going to be the one paying for their mistakes and ignorance. Jazz, obviously, won't be as bad, but it'll be there, nonetheless. She's a sixteen-year-old with her own life, no matter how much she loves her bro.