Disclaimer: There will be self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of child abuse, bullying, and depression, if you are not okay with that then turn back now, please don't try to skim over the parts that you think might be triggering to you because these themes will continue all throughout the story. If you are okay with it and are absolutely sure you won't get triggered, then carry on!

This won't have smut but it is slash. Phil/Dan

"A broken mirror will convey the same reflection more than a thousand times. You cannot escape yourself by destroying what you see"

III

Locked, in the bathroom stall, a sixteen-year-old Phil Lester's entire body shook with silent sobs. As he angrily wiped away the tears, the cold voice of his father echoed in his head;

'Crying is for weaklings, you aren't going to be the weak-link.'

Ashamed by his own weakness the black haired boy dug his nails into his palms creating half-moon dents in his skin. He bit down hard on his lip, trying to keep himself from screaming but he was unable to keep the whimper of pain from escaping his body as he drew blood.

He licked the cut which caused a slight sting.

He wasn't weak. Wiping the blood of the sleeves of his shirt, the young student stood and exited the cubicle.

A single startled gasp escaped his mouth as he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror. Although he was usually considered to be a well groomed and quite presentable young man, even he had to admit that he looked dreadful. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from where he'd been crying and black circles were around them from his lack of sleep. His hair was a horrible mess; not as untamed as some days, though. Then there was his cut lip, it wasn't too bad but it didn't help his character look any better.

His father gave him that injury, but he wouldn't go into further detail about it with anyone, not even if they pressed him for it.

But who was he kidding? No one would care enough to ask him.

He turned on the cold tap splashing water over his face cleaning it up a bit.

He looked up with water clinging to his eyelashes, still unsatisfied with his appearance he reached for his comb. When his hair was satisfyingly neat he put the comb away and pulled some concealer out of his bag,

This was below him, using makeup. He was gay, not a drag queen. But, it was the only way to hide how broken he was from the world. Phil patted his fingers against the makeup, and stroked it underneath his eyes, making them look happy and full of light.

His eyes wandered back to his reflection, he hated the way he looked, he hated how he was fake, he hated himself.

Phil pulled his fist up to smash the mirror, but then he stopped. He knew deep down that: A broken mirror will convey the same reflection more than a thousand times. You cannot escape yourself by destroying what you see"

Phil shook his head at the mirror, he was already on thin ice with the principal, one little slip up could gain him a suspension, then his father would make him pay. If he was home right now then maybe things would have been different, maybe he would've smashed it and repeated the almost daily routine of slicing open his arms, but maybe the fact that it was school property had a role in it. Maybe that was why he chose not to.

Collecting his bag, he placed his concealer away before leaving the bathroom. He roamed absentmindedly through the corridors, bumping into someone on the way causing both of them to lose their balance.

Phil looked up to see a group of several boys in a circle around him and the boy he knocked over, who looked extremely pissed.

He had never seen a single one of them before, well, he couldn't remember seeing any of them before. Phil had always tried to keep himself invisible, because if no one noticed you then no one would hurt you.

All of them had a sense of vain arrogance about them.

"This can't be good." Phil thought to himself as he quickly got to his feet.

"Errr, sorry," Phil mumbled nervously making sure not to keep eye contact with any of them for too long, and as he tried to leave he noticed that the boys around him weren't moving and the circle around him remained solid.

"Where do you think you're going?" the blonde next to him sneered "As I recalled, you knocked me over with your clumsy walking! What's your name?"

'Surely they weren't picking on me this early in the morning, I said I was sorry." Phil thought to himself, not realizing that he had started to quiver, "P-P-Ph-Phil" he replied stuttering.

The smile on the thug's faces grew and they started to laugh, "Are you scared? Are you going to go cry to your mummy?" The blonde haired boy next to Phil got to his feet, knocking over Phil with a sneer "Filthy Faggot" he said spitting on him and Phil picked his hand up, wiping the spit of himself, looking up at the blonde with a glare. "What are you going to do about it?" Phil closed his eyes, he wasn't going to do anything, he didn't want to fight, but the wasn't going to beg for them to stop either, he wouldn't sink that low; he wasn't weak, he would just try to pull through. He had done so with his father, surely this couldn't be worse.

It would most surely be painful, but it wouldn't last forever.

The blonde took note of Phil not replying, "Good choice" he said kicking the Phil in the stomach, before turning around "Dan, your turn."

Dan looked up at his crew's new victim, he couldn't stop thinking about how hot he looked.

Dan quickly shook that thought from his head, 'No I'm straight, I'm not gay" Dan thought rebuking himself.

Even still, he couldn't bring himself to hurt him he wanted to help Phil, to tell him that it would be all okay and to hold him tight, but he couldn't he would become a social outcast, get beaten up every day.

But, that was what was in store for Phil.

Dan nervously rubbed his arm, turning his head from the scene, it was too horrible to watch, "I'm not up to it today" he mumbled.

The crowd of thugs went silent and Harry, the blonde haired boy, dropped Phils shirt collar, walking over to Dan, glaring at him annoyed, "It wasn't a question." the blonde said in a voice struggling to remain neutral, Harry made a hand gesture pointing towards the shaking boy "Your" he drawled, "Turn"

Phil opened one of his eyes as Dan walked over to him, he noticed a pitiful look in his eyes, and could even see, in the corner of Dan's eye, a sparkling threat of a tear.

Why would he be crying over me getting hurt? He was just another vain arrogant Jock.

"Sorry" Dan mouthed, making sure none of the other thugs saw, he felt a pang of guilt plague him like a disease.

He didn't want to do this, but he knew he had to.

Phils face hardened as he realized what was coming next.

Dan swung his fist in the air, colliding with Phils face in a loud smack, sending him into a state of unconsciousness.

III

THE END

I don't know if this was good, If you want to know what happens next, and if you'd like another chapter then leave a review, please!