DANS POV

It was two weeks ago Phil told me he was gay. I shouldn't think much about it. I shouldn't. But I do. Little things are way more weird now. Like when Phil makes me cereal and tea, I think, 'Is he trying to tell me something?' when he does it all the time. Like when Phil replies to my tweets, something as simple as that, I think, 'Why does he always want to talk to me, does he like me?' when I probably reply to his tweets more than he replies to mine.

Right now, I'm waiting back-stage with Phil at Reading Festival. It's 5 minutes until we have to go on to introduce the next band. I love Reading but its still pretty scary on the stage.

I start to pace around, and Phil knows that I'm scared. H e latches onto my hand. I freeze and yank my hand away.

"What?" Phil said. He did it last year and I found it comforting. Now . . . it's different.

I bite my lip. I swear he knows. I look around, uncomfortable. "You know Phil . . . well . . . your gay!"

He stops. He looks at me right in the eye, a deadly look. We don't say anything for a while. I open my mouth to say something but he beats me to it. "I thought you've been acting weird lately," he said, his words full of poison. "I understand now."

He turns around and stomps away, and I have to jog to catch up.

"Phil! I didn't mean it like that," I said, guilty.

He stops and turns around. I didn't know he'd stop so I nearly bumped into him, and I backed away after-ward. And he took it the wrong way . . .

"Oh sorry! Did I touch you? Silly me, I forgot my caution banners to remind people that I'm gay so people will keep away!" he said, his voice stone cold sarcastic.

"Phil!" I said. He stomped away, and I didn't bother following him.

I curled up into a ball in the corner, and a single tear fell into my hand. "I'm so STUPID," I told myself.

"Dan?" the registry man asked, coming up to me. I'd wiped away the tear before he could see it luckily. "What you doing down there? You're going on in 2 minutes! Where's Phil? He's usually beside you."

I didn't say anything. "I don't know where Phil is."

"What do you mean? You two are like brothers," he said.

"We were," I said, quietly.

"What? I didn't catch that. Dan, you need to find him, your going on in . . . 1 minute now!"

"You are going to have to either delay it or find someone else," I said, sourly.

He looked at me. "Whatever has happened, put it behind you. I'll try and drag it on a little, and please go find Phil."

He helped me up and shoved me on my way.

I knew where he'd be, so it wasn't difficult, but I didn't WANT to go.

"We're on now," I said, my voice meaningless and emotionless. Then I looked down and saw the mess that Phil was. His eyes were big and puffy and his entire face was tear-stained, and he was still crying.

"Will you GO AWAY!" Phil screamed, shoving my legs, making me topple over.

"Phil - "

"I said, GET LOST!" Phil yelled. He looked up at me, his face full of so much anger. He didn't look like himself.

He was in a little corner part of the backstage that him and I found last year. He shuffled further back, and I had to get into the 'Den' to see him.

"No," I said, stubbornly.

His breath slowed down. "I'm not going on."

"Then neither am I," I said, sitting beside up, curled up.

"Better not touch me, I have the gay plague," he said, bitterly.

"Phil," I began.

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OVER AND OUT.