As I pour myself a cup of coffee, I find my mind wandering to the brown eyed boy again. Dan, it was, Dan Howell is what I remember Janice telling me. Why was I so flustered when I talked to him? I know I'm not the most social person, but it shouldn't have been that bad. In fact, thinking back on it now, Dan was really quite lovely... The way his eyes were so chocolatey, and his smile seemed so relaxed, and-

Gosh, why am I thinking these things? It's not like he's anything special, though I do see why Janice likes him. She's perfectly right about his gorgeous features, and those skinny jeans...

I'm doing it again! Wow, this coffee must really be messing with me... I haven't slept in some two days, which is a new low for me. That must be it. Ever since I moved to my new apartment, I've been so busy with videos and paperwork for the new apartment, last night was the first time I'd left the house in a little under a week... I flip open my video camera, pushing back my fringe and smiling. I'm about to press the "record" button when an outburst of rapping comes from the front door of my flat. My stomach flops, and the first person that pops into my mind is none other than brown-eyes himself, but I shake the thought from my head and walk over to open the door.

Standing there is, not Dan, but Janice, smiling up at me in a jumper and jeans, with her bright blue electric eyes. Something in my heart deflates a little in disappointment, and I can't quite pinpoint why. Smiling, I invite her inside, setting the kettle to a boil, and sitting her down in the living room. As she sits on the sofa, she beams up at me, taking a cup of coffee as I hand it to her.

"So, what brings you here?" I ask, eager to hear the story behind her overexcited grin.

She let out a squeal of delight, and said, "So I talked to Dan again, today!"

I do feel bad, I knew that Dan didn't like her, not that way, but a part of me thought it might be best not to tell her that.

"-and then he smiled at me! Phil, Phil, Phil! He knows my name!"

I sigh, quietly taking a sip of coffee, "Yeah, he seems really cute, I think you two would be nice together." I say absently. I'm not lying completely, though. I do think he seems really cute. I'm not really paying attention to her avid storytelling, and I'm not sure if that makes me a bad friend or not, but that's not what I'm focused on right now. My mind has wandered back to the coffee shop. For some reason, I have an inexplicable urge to go back. I've been there often enough, since my best friend works there, and I suppose it must just be habit.

Sometime later that night, at around ten o clock, I find myself strolling down the street towards that same neon coffee sign above the shop where Janice works, and I pull open the door, shivering slightly from the winter chill that's only just settled in. The familiar tinkling of the bell tied to the handle on the door clicks, and I slide into a booth next to Hayley, who's slumped against the table. She's something of a mess, smudged mascara streaking down her face, and wearing an old sweatshirt covered in blotted ink stains.

"Uhm... Hayley?" I ask, poking her gently on the arm. She grunts quietly.

"You okay there?"

Groaning, she sits up, rubbing her eyes and smudging her makeup further. From the dark circles under her eyes to the state of her clothing, I'm frankly impressed she's still talking to me. After she's finished smudging her mascara to the point where she looks like some sort of zombie, she stares at me and says one word.

"Finals."

Ah.

Leaving Hayley to her coffee and smudged eyeliner, I can't help but feel that something's missing. Somebody is missing... Dan's not here, and I don't know why that bothers me so much. To be honest, he was a bit of an arse when I met him. Then again, I didn't really give him my best first impression, either.

Sighing, I sip my coffee and scroll through my Twitter feed. Save a few tweets from excited fans, my notifications are relatively empty. I reply to one of them, a fan who has tweeted me at least fourteen times by now. Clicking on the tweet "Hi, Phil! Ilysm, and I got tickets to vidcon this year! Will you be there? Xoxo Audrey 3" and type a quick response: "No, sorry, I probably won't be able to afford Vidcon this year... I love you too, though!"

Just as I'm about to send the tweet, a voice speaks from behind me.

"So, who is it that you 'love'?"

I recognize the sarcastic voice of none other than Dan, as he slides into the chair across from me. As seems to be his custom, he's dressed from head to toe in the blackest black that ever blacked.

Hiding my phone by instinct, I blush, "Oh, nothing. Just someone that tweeted me, no one special...

Raising his eyebrows in disbelief, he takes off his backpack, pulls out his (black, of course) computer, promptly ignoring me.

What an arse.

Miffed by his rudeness, I stand up and push my chair in. It's late, anyways, I should really be getting back. Gathering my things, I push past Dan and walk towards the door. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk out the door, I can already envision it, the smug smirk stretched across his lips...

I shake my head as I hear the bell on the handle of the door rattle behind me. Congratulations to Daniel Howell, arsehole of the year.