chapter 1.
"Y/n! Phillip is here!!"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." I call out, grabbing my duffel bag. I sling it over my shoulder as I walk over to the door of my small room, looking around for a moment. "See you in a few months, room," I mumble, opening the door and walking out. I shut the door behind me and head down to the lower floor, going down the stairs. I walk over to the main entrance to see June, the head mistress of the orphanage, and an unfamiliar blonde dude, who I'm guessing is my new foster dad. Fun.
"Y/n, this is Phillip, your new foster parent," she says, resting a hand on my shoulder.
"Hello, Y/n. You can call me Phil, if you'd like," Phil speaks, smiling at me. I meet eyes with his for a moment and tense up, taking a small step back. Blue eyes. I wave hesitantly at him then fold my arms over my chest before mumbling a short hello.
"So, just sign the paper work here, here and here, and you can be on your way," June says as she gives Phil some papers and a pen. He nods and takes the papers, quickly signing them and giving them back to June a few moments later.
We head out the front doors of the building and make out way out to a car, supposedly Phil's. He opens the trunk and takes my duffel bag, tossing it in. I watch as he shuts the trunk and opens the passenger door, smiling. I anxiously climb inside, buckling up. He walks around and gets into the drivers seat, sitting and buckling up. "I would've had my wife with me, but she's been quite busy with work," he says, chuckling quietly. "You'll meet her later, though. I think you'll like her."
I nod shortly, staring out the side window as Phil pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving back to his place. "So, you're seventeen, right?"
"Yup," I speak in an awkwardly shaky voice. Talking is hard for me sometimes, but I don't mind it. I don't like to give out too much information, because who knows what someone could use against me-
"My youngest just turned eighteen not too long ago," Phil added, and I felt his eyes on me. I nod shortly, a small, feigned smile on my face. "I think you two might get along, if you don't mind incredibly loud teenage boys."
I let out a quiet chuckle despite myself, a genuinely one, surprisingly. Maybe- maybe things won't be so bad. Maybe I won't have to run away, or maybe I won't get sent back this time.
"I think you'd also like my eldest, Will. He can be a bit crazy at times, but he's a rather chill guy," Phil said, his gaze moving away from me. "Though I don't know how free his schedule is, so he might be pretty busy. He's a musician, y'know?"
I nod shortly before pausing, my attention grabbed. "Musician? Like the kind of musician who makes stupid, shitty songs and or covers of songs on SoundCloud or makes legitimate music that plays on the radio?" I ask, looking over at Phil. "Because I don't think you could technically count yourself as a musician if all you do is covers."
"Legit music," Phil replies, chuckling. "Has his own music and everything. He's even in this band, Lovejoy- ever heard of them?"
I gasp, my eyes widening. "HOLY SHIT- wait, your son, Will, is Wilbur Soot?! The lead singer of Lovejoy?! Holy fucking shit!!!" Phil bursts out laughing, smiling at me. I flush red for a moment but I push away my embarrassment, too excited to care about how cringe or weird my fan-(girl/boy/person, idk any gender neutral term to put here :'))ing is. "You're joking, right?! You- you have to be!"
"I'd never joke about something like this," Phil swears, putting a hand over his heart.
"Oh my God, I- I love Wilbur's music! He's got such a great voice and- dude, he's like, a musical genius, I swear." I gush, my voice getting louder and my hands getting more animated. "I used to listen to his YCGMA album over and over, I basically have all the words memorized." Phil chuckles, resting his hand on my thigh. I instantly freeze at the touch, pressing my arms against my chest. I inhale and exhale quietly, trying to calm myself down. Not again, not again, not again-
"Don't fight it, Y/n~ You know you want me. Want me touching you, pleasing you~"
My breaths speed up and I clutch my shirt, tugging at the collar like it'll help me breathe. "You alright, kiddo?" Phil asks and I look over, meeting his eyes.
I nod quickly, moving my leg and hoping he pulls his hand away. It stays there for a moment before he lift his hand, resting it back on the steering wheel. I see him glance over at me for a moment before looking back at the road, taking a turn. He soon pulls into a house, parking outside the garage. He stops the car, getting out. I exhale and let go of my shirt, the area near the collar all wrinkled. I unbuckle and climb out of the car, inhaling the fresh air outside. I turn to go and get my bag but Phil's already at the trunk, grabbing it for me. I watch him for a moment as he smiles at me, shutting the trunk and walking back to the drivers side. I watch as he shut the door and locked the car, walking to the front door. I follow a few steps behind him, climbing the stairs onto the porch. I watch him unlock the door and pushes it open, being greeted by a mewing cat, standing at the doorway. My eyes widen and a small smile creeps onto my face as I watch the cat follow Phil, walking inside. I look around at the house, taking in its features. "So, is it just you and your wife who live here?"
"Yep. The boys have their own places, but they come by quite a bit. Sometimes they'll crash on the couch or in the guest room, but that room's for you now," he said with a smile, looking back at me. "I'm sure Tom's gonna be annoyed, but he can deal with it." I nod, looking down at the cat, who was now rubbing itself against my legs. I smile and crouch, petting its back. It purrs and leans into my hand, flicking its long fluffy tail.
"So your room is the second door in the hallway, on the right side," Phil says, handing me my duffel bag. "Make yourself comfortable."
I nod and turn, walking over to the stairs. I take off my boots and leave them by the bottom step, going upstairs. Left. Right. Left. Right. I exhale quietly as I step onto the normal floor, walking over to the room Phil told me to go to. I open the door, a cold blast of air hitting my face. I walk over and set my bag on the bed, sitting down beside it. I look around in silence for a moment, exhaling. It's okay, Phil isn't- he isn't him. I'm okay.