Dan's POV.
London was enclosed in it's typical haze of smog and cloud, the sagging sky threatening rain as it had been for the past week. Despite having turned the heating on and wearing an obnoxiously festive Christmas jumper, the apartment remained practically arctic and I was forced to steal - um, borrow - one of Phil's hoodies.
Needless to say, I did not feel like going outside today.
Not that there was much else to do inside: for once I was up to date on all the usual household chores and, because I hadn't posted much online over the last few days, replying to messages and comments from fans had only taken around 10 minutes. I couldn't even kill some time watching the latest anime series Phil had insisted we buy, because he'd also insisted that I wasn't allowed to watch it without him. Normally that wouldn't have been an issue (Phil and I were literally the definition of homebodies... or recluse', depending on your perspective), but he'd been away a lot recently. There was the cousin's birthday, the other cousin's wedding, something involving some uni friends and a movie before the cancelled trains that had prevented him coming home yesterday... or was it bowling? Either way, a series of unfortunate coincidences had led to Phil being away from home for almost two weeks.
It was rare that we spent so long away from each other, so, although I liked to think I wasn't a clingy person, I was finding it hard to adjust to an empty apartment. There was nobody to wake me up with tea or coffee when I overslept, no one to argue with about what to have for dinner and no one willing by any means necessary, whether by pelting me with maltesers or simply asking me to come back, to help me pull myself out of the trance I delicately labelled 'existential crisis'.
Maybe I was clingier than I realised...
Moving on.
In any case, I missed Phil. He was such an eternal ray of freaking sunshine, with his summer-sky eyes and constant crooked smile. I'd jokingly nicknamed him 'Space-boy' when he brought that ridiculous coat, but when I thought about it, he was seriously out of this world. His dark hair, garish clothes and blue eyes made him the starry night to my dreary, plain, and monotonous rainy day. Since I first met him and worked up the courage to admit that I wanted to start my own YouTube channel, his ambition and enthusiasm had been infectious. When he was gone, he took that with him, and I could feel things getting bad again.
The same series of coincidences that had occupied Phil had seemingly provided me with some of the loneliest, scariest and most difficult weeks I'd faced. The producers at Radio 1 had questioned the necessity of our upcoming Christmas special when, without Phil, I'd been unable to convey our ideas properly, and just the other day when I'd forced myself to brave the elements and do some Christmas shopping, I'd been recognised by someone who decidedly wasn't a fan, if the spit on my shoes was anything to go by.
That had been fun.
Usually, I was pretty good at dealing with hate comments; I would reduce them to pixels on a screen until I could convince myself that they weren't even words and get by just fine. It was just slightly more difficult to ignore a random stranger stopping me in the street, demanding to know where 'the other fag' was before deciding I wasn't worth the words and spitting on me.
Fucking asshole.
And yet, maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't worth it. Maybe the only attention I deserved was scorn and hatred. After all, according to many of the original 'Phil-lions' who had never quite been able to adjust to 'Phil' becoming 'Dan and Phil', wasn't I the one who had desperately latched onto the dreams and success of one of my internet idols before proceeding to fall for him in a way that would never be reciprocated?
No, that wasn't right... If it was, then why would Phil bother to make me push thoughts like this away when he was around? Why wouldn't he just find a more normal housemate? Leave me alone?
Then again... hadn't he? If the asshole was wrong, then why had Phil stayed away for so long, barely remembering to call?
No no no no no. Moving on. Moving so the fuck on. I instinctively hauled myself off of my bed and began setting up my filming equipment, barely paying attention to the familiar task. I listened to what sounded like someone else wave a cheery 'Hello, Internet' as the camera began to record, the voice chattering aimlessly about the holiday season, me cringing internally with every word. Whatever. Better to be on autopilot right now I guess, and making videos at least killed some time otherwise spent completely alone.
Safe to say, I was crap with 'me time'. Where the hell was Phil?
Phil's POV.
Finally finding a seat on the heaving train, I dug my headphones out of my pocket, put the music on my phone on shuffle and tried in vain to stop the impatient tapping of my foot. After two weeks of being pulled in every direction, I wanted nothing more than to go home and settle in for a binge-session of gaming or anime with Dan, who I'd found myself missing more than ever. My best friend never failed to keep me grounded, and without his calming, reassuring nature I'd felt scattered and restless. It was as if I was constantly glancing over my shoulder to share some glance or joke with him before remembering he wasn't here - that sickening, dizzying confusion of missing a step on the staircase. The temptation to continually bombard him with messages was extremely difficult to resist.
Get over yourself Phil, you'll be home soon; no need to be so clingy.
At least that's what I tried to convince myself. Shaking my head slightly and resisting the urge to scoff at my own internal whinging, I turned my music up and attempted to catch a few hours sleep on the rest of the journey. Before I could, an all too familiar alert sound blared through my headphones. Fumbling groggily for my phone, I checked the notification.
It was Dan. Well, 'danisnotonfire', depending on how pedantic you were. Either way, Dan had just uploaded a video on YouTube (I'd been his first subscriber; of course I had notifications set for his channel), as if inspired by my wishful thinking. Fighting back a small smile, I opened the video and waited an age for it to load over my struggling 3G.
I didn't like what I saw.
On the surface, the video seemed innocent enough; titled simply 'The updated truth about December', it could pass as a standard vlog to those who didn't know Dan personally. I on the other hand noticed only the bags under his eyes, the occasional stammer and, most worryingly, the incessant fidgeting. Constantly playing with his hair, scratching at his wrists or neck... It was clear that Dan was agitated to say the least. Luckily, none of his subscribers seemed to have noticed so far as the comments already rushing in were of the usual sort.
If that was the case, maybe I was overreacting. I had a habit of being overly-cautious when it came to Dan as he was crap at alone time/taking care of himself. Maybe Dan's drained and anxious appearance was my imagination, or simply the result of a sleepless, caffeine-fuelled night.
Maybe.
In any case, I could tell the rest of my journey home would be painfully slow.