Finally, the flash lights went off, millions of high pitched cheers from the crowd, sweat drops falling down their faces , heavy breathing. It was hot in Australia, very hot, Phil hated that but he loved travelling, just like Dan. Finding new places, living adventures. What an adventure had they lived, what a great book had they read. The last chapter was now at its final, because just like every other good story, this one had to end, or else it might get boring, am I right?
As soon as they entered the dressing room, they fell straight onto the great couches that were there, Dan with sweaty, wavy hair, Phil heavy breathing and attempting to get his glasses on. They looked into each other's eyes, in complete silence since they got out of the stage. They started laughing. Hysterically. Laughing until their stomachs hurt, laughing because, how else could they express all of this?
But all of that ended in a few minutes, and Dan suddenly felt like a foreign without home, like Bob Dylan would say, like a Rolling Stone. His stomach felt empty, his eyes, lost, his hand...
His hand touched Phil's, the soft fingers caressing his. Dan heard Phil's sigh loud as a drum.
"I'm homesick."
That was the word. Homesick. Dan remembered proudly that Phil had studied English language, and the last year was completely forgotten for a minute. He could not have described their feelings better. Homesick. The cheers from the theatre faded away to his hears. And he was homesick. For the first time in a month, he realized that the lamp on the ceiling wasn't their lamp. They both had stopped laughing and smiling by then.
"What do you want to do?" Were his words to his friend. Then, after two seconds, he turned his head just to see Phil's perfectly defined profile, his blue eyes lost somewhere on the ceiling. Dan knew perfectly what he wanted to do, his only desire he had been repressing for months.
"I want to sleep. On my bed. With my blue and green covers."
Their hands didn't leave each other's, their fingers were unconsciously playing all the time. Phil faced Dan with very big eyes and ajar lips. "You?"
Dan looked to the ceiling again, closed his mouth and tried to look as if he was thinking about it, premeditating his response as he recovered his normal breathing speed.
"I want to scroll on Tumblr."
Phil didn't even laugh, or smile, he just stood there looking at his younger roommate, the one he was so proud of, the one he loved so much, understanding him completely. Dan didn't smile either. For once, he just wanted to sit-lay on the sofa, his sofa, and scroll by Tumblr with his macbook overheating on his lap. And Phil understood him perfectly. That's why they were even more than best friends.
The air felt cold and strange there.
The light was too yellowish.
The couch was too hard.
The covers were too...circular.
"I want to be a youtuber again."
If he was asked, he wouldn't have been able to describe Phil's voice in that moment.
"Let's go home."
Dan's voice was almost broken, and very, very low. He wanted to be a youtuber too, like Phil. It was the same feeling he had when he first saw him, in black and white, yet completely different. He wanted to be like Phil. He understood Phil. And he also wanted the old times back. No big things. Just stupid videos.
And just like that, they went back home.
Dan opened the door in silence and rolled his luggage in the house, Phil followed him upstairs. It smelled like dust, and cold breeze of London, the one they, somehow, had missed so much, entered through the gate with the smell of rain as its companion. The only sound was the one the little wheels of the luggage made on the floor.
As Dan put his luggage on the bed, Phil opened a few windows, letting the fresh air in. As Dan took off his clothes, Phil checked on his houseplants. As Dan opened his bag, Phil took a pair of mugs. As Dan took his laptop and headed to the living room, Phil prepared hot chocolate. As Dan sat-laid on the perfectly mould sofa, Phil sat by him with two hot, steamy mugs and his glasses on.
In complete silence.
Dan took one cup and opened his laptop, meanwhile Phil wrapped his arm around Dan's shoulders. The youngest of them entered his password, opened Safari, and Phil took a little sip of his chocolate on the process. The url was typed fast, and a dark, greyish blue appeard on the screen. Phil smiled, Dan said the first words of the evening.
"Hello, Internet."
And just like that, they were back home.