Part 1
You walk down the chilly streets of London, shivering as fat raindrops hit your head and exposed arms. You remember contemplating whether or not to bring your coat, and, cursing yourself, step into a nearby Starbucks. It's only slightly filled, about 9 or 10 people sitting in booths around the store, on laptops or reading books, all clutching their hot drinks. You walk to the cash register, your mind full of thoughts about a delicious hot chocolate only moments away. The cashier is blonde, with blue eyes that sweep over you as you step into view. He's cute, but a little too burly for your type... He smiles and reveals dazzling white teeth. Definitely not your type.
"How can I help you today?" He asks, surprising you with an American accent. Momentarily caught off guard you can only stare at him. Idiot! Do you want him to think you're checking him out?!
"Er- large hot chocolate, not too much whipped cream," you say, and he smiles once more, winking before turning to make your drink. You can feel your face, flushed and hot, probably bright red, and you curse yourself once more. After possibly the most awkward waiting- in- line experience ever, you hastily pay for your drink, nod in appreciation, and sit down in the far corner before you can do any more damage.
As you sit, sipping idly at your hot chocolate and pondering the events of the day, the doorbell tinkles and two loud British people enter the Starbucks.
"... told you not to buy the whole store, I mean really-"
"But the Pokemon section was on sale, you can hardly blame me..."
Wait a minute, you recognize those voices... You glance up, trying to calm your frantically beating heart, trying to quench your hope before you become disappointed. The eyes of Dan Howell and Phil Lester are staring back at you. I've died, you tell yourself. Died and gone to heaven. They quickly order their drinks from the blond American boy, still staring at you. Or is that your imagination? Are they really looking at you?
What do you do? Do you go up and introduce yourself? Do you gush and fangirl everywhere? Probably not the latter. Meanwhile, you sit and stare at the two most perfect boys in the world. Like a creepy stalker, you are. The Ken- Doll (as you've decided to name him) flashes his white teeth at them and hands them their drinks; Dan pays.
You hallucinate them walking up to your table, smiling and laughing, talking together. Wait. No, you're not hallucinating. Are they seriously approaching you? Your hands get sweaty as your heart rate launches off again, you can feel your face flushing cherry- magenta. Suddenly, there they are, standing in front of you, looking down at you, smiling.
"Hey, mind if we sit with you?" Dan Howell. Is talking. To you. You shake your head frantically, not trusting your vocal cords. They beam again and slide in the bench across from you. "I'm Dan, by the way," Dan speaks again, causing your heart to stutter and nearly fail.
"And I'm Phil," Phil Lester. Is talking. To you.
"I know," you splutter in a strangled whisper. "Watch... YouTube... fan..." You always knew your vocal cords would betray you.
"Hey... are you okay?" Dan asks, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. Suddenly, you can't stop the torrent of words falling like a waterfall from your mouth.
"Omigosh, I have never been better. Here I am, miserable and stuck in the rain with no coat, ducking into the nearest store, which happens to be a Starbucks, then trying to avoid a flirting American Ken- Doll cashier, and heading to the back of the store to sulk and then all of a sudden my two favorite YouTubers just burst in talking about Pokemon and then coming up to me, with the whole wide store open, and talking to me of all people, and now here I am and I just..." You clap your hand over your mouth to stop the torrent, this time turning bubblegum pink. You just gushed. And fangirled. To your surprise, however, Dan and Phil are laughing.
"It's good to meet a fellow socially- inept person who is accidentally funny," Dan says, brushing fringe out of his eyes, still grinning.
"I think that just about sums me up," you say. Are you seriously having a conversation with Dan and Phil?
You chat through the afternoon, occasionally making them roar with laughter. You gush again as they berate you with non-stop questions, telling them about your hobbies, your favorite color, your life. You tell them about your parent's divorce, your recent breakup, your loss of a best friend, and Phil sympathizes with you. You talk about your personality, frequent sarcasm, and laugh about awkward situations with Dan.
You notice the time at around 5 o' clock, and, reluctantly, tell them you have to go or your Dad will be mad at you. Subconsciously, you rub the bruises on your arm he gave you last time he got mad... You brush it away and stand up to leave.
"We can give you a ride, if you want," Phil says, glancing out of the window at the clouds still pouring rain.
"That would be fantastic," you say, wondering what their car looks like. Cheerfully, they clean up the mess of cups on the counter and shove them in the trash. Are you dreaming? Did that 2- hour long hangout with DAN AND PHIL seriously just happen? You pinch yourself, and when nothing happens, you gleefully follow them out of the store.
The ride home is short, especially due to the fact that you still find yourself able to keep up a conversation. It comes so easily, so naturally, like breathing. When they finally park outside the gray apartment complex, drizzled with rain, you sigh and reluctantly begin to clamber out of the warm car.
"Wait!" Dan says, and you turn back, hardly daring to believe your ears. "Here's our emails. We're trusting you not to release them to the entire internet," he says with a wink, handing you a piece of paper with two email addresses.
"Maybe we can meet up again sometime," Phil adds with a cheerful smile and wave. You hop out of the car, wave goodbye, and clutch the paper to your chest, the only evidence that the best day of your life really just happened.