Dan had taken Dil and Tabitha aside, into their bedroom, to tell them about yesterday, leaving Phil to stand and occupy himself in the living room.

He stood right in the middle of the room, at the end of the breakfast bar, and stared to his right to the bedroom door. He had occupied himself by putting the shopping away like Dan had suggested, but that didn't last very long, and now he was at a loose end. His heart was beating like a drum – he wanted to listen to what his friend was saying, but he didn't want to eavesdrop – he knew that Dan had only taken them out-of-the-way so as not to worry him or make him feel awkward and humiliated and so that he wouldn't have questions fired at him, but being on his own only really made Phil feel worse.

Dan was a good friend, though, and he surely wouldn't say anything to make the situation sound worse than it was. It had been pretty bad, though. Phil was one of those people who you could never imagine raising his voice, so it would probably seem a bit unbelievable at first. Dan could sugar-coat it well, though, and hopefully justify it without making Phil nor Dab seem like bad people. Dan was good with words. Most of the time.

Phil stared down into the fawn-coloured tea swirling in the blue mug in his hands. He felt ill just imagining drinking it. His nerves about what the Howlter parents would say to him were plaguing his mind. He put the cup down. He wasn't really a tea person anyway.

He could hear talking, and occasional raised voices, but he couldn't figure out quite what they were saying. Stuff about him, clearly. He felt guilty about everything that he'd done, even if he wasn't wrong to do it.

He'd been fine a minute ago – why did they have to do this now?

Being yelled at was not something anybody enjoyed, but for someone who had gone through February and everything that had happened in June so far, it was even worse than usual.

Phil heaved a sigh, wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the counter, sliding down it slowly and soundlessly until he was seated on the floor. He angrily rubbed his eyes with his palms and mumbled something incoherent to himself as he leaned back on his hands. He heard someone say something in the other room that sounded a tiny bit cross and his heart dropped like a brick. He was a mess of emotions at this moment and the time seemed to drag by.

The springs in the bed creaked and the sound of the door catch rolling echoed about the room. The first person to appear was Dan, who made his first move to head over to his friend.

"Hey..?" He started, quietly, crouching down and wiping a stray hair out of the way of his friend's eyes, "What's all this about? What's up, bud?"

"Are they mad at me?" Phil whispered, leaning forward a bit. He sounded unreasonably terrified.

"No, no, of course not," Dan hushed him.

Phil didn't quite understand how this was possible, but appreciated it anyway. He relaxed - melting like a spoonful of treacle – and slouching forward.

"You're overreacting," Dan continued.

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them what happened."

"Elaborate," Phil ordered.

"There's not really much to elaborate on," Dan said, "Stand up, drink your tea and calm down."

Phil did as he was told, standing up on shaky legs. He supposed he was over-reacting. He'd done a lot of that recently, but then again, everyone else had, too, so you could never really tell. In any case, he calmed down again strangely quickly and drank the tea even though he didn't usually like brown leaf water.

"If you're getting stressed," he heard Tabitha say, "You don't have to stay."

"Oh! No, no, no; I- I'm fine," Phil insisted, wide-eyed, his blood running cold, "It was a isolated incident; won't happen again, I promise you."

He was very sure of himself and what he said, and so was Dan, but Dil looked like he was slightly suspicious. Phil brushed off the doubtful look on his Sim's face and changed the subject.

"D- Dan and I were wondering whether we should all go out for dinner," he said – he actually quite fancied going out, being in the house wasn't quite his thing anymore – "But I thought we should confer with you two first."

"That's a good idea, actually," Tabitha agreed. She seemed to agree with pretty much anything that didn't mean sitting around doing nothing all day, "Where were you thinking?" She asked.

"Chez Llama," Dan replied, "Unless you can think of somewhere else?"

Tabitha thought about this for a bit. She could not think of anywhere else, so she turned to her husband for some sort of concurrence, which he gave in the form of a nonchalant nod.

"That's decided then."

Nothing good ever happened here; why were they going back?

The first time, back 4 months ago, Erica Pendleton had been eavesdropping on their conversation and had picked up on the fact that the Howlter parents would be out of the house for a few days. Her having that knowledge hadn't ended well.

The second time, the world had felt woozy and an existential crisis began to make itself very, very apparent.

The third time, Pendleton had been there again, and they'd had to look after Dab all on their own. Volcano Pasta had also been a thing.

Whatever happened this time was bound to be just as awkward – if not more so. Then again, nothing in February went well, and neither did anything when left unsupervised with the kid – but at least it gave Dan an excuse to wear something fancy. He'd picked out a black shirt with velvety ebony baroque patterns, which he wore with an oil-coloured tie and a pair of white suit trousers which were bound to get stained by some sauce or other.

He looked down to the path and watched the stone blur every time he took a step. Was this really better than staying at home? When he finally looked up, he went dizzy for a second as his vision adjusted to see the tall, ornate door leading to Chez Llama. Surely the staff recognised them by now, they'd seen this sight so much.

Dan flicked his line of sight to his left to inspect his friend.

Phil seemed OK.

He was dressed in the same pastel blue suit he'd worn last time (it may still have had a spot or two of coffee on it from then, too), standing with his shoulder blades pushed back so that they showed through the fabric. At least it gave him better posture. His hair was brushed back into a raven quiff and his ashen skin was almost emanating a glow in the falling sunlight it was so pale.

"You alright?" Dan asked him, in the most positive tone he could muster, straightening the fringes of his jacket for him.

"Absolutely," Phil affirmed with a glimmer of a smile.

Dil and Tabitha walked through the door before them, closely followed by Dab and Evan. It was almost like Noah's ark where the animals 'went in two by two. Hurrah.' ('Hurrah'? What's so exciting about a pair of elephants? Strange song).

"Coming?" Phil hummed, stepping up the first stair and nodding his head toward the doors.

"Coming," Dan assured him, following at his right hand beside him.