A/N: Sorry it's been so long. It's summer now so I'm going to try really hard to get a lot done.

May 31st

With every tick the old grandfather clock made, Dan became increasingly agitated. He had received an email awhile back that the results of the writing competition would be emailed to all the contestants on May 31st. Dan was shocked they were able to work so quickly, but grateful nonetheless.

"That will be 10.92," Dan smiled at the customer, bagging her book.

She fished the money out of her wallet, sliding it across the counter. "Thank you."

Dan stuck the money in the cashier then handed the lady her change. "Of course. Have a nice day."

"You too!"

Dan sighed, eyes following her as she left the store. He was almost sad to see her go—she was the first person to come in all day and he was getting quite lonely.

Craving distraction from the anticipation he had been feeling all morning, the writer busied himself with dusting off some of the bookshelves.

He had only been working for a few moments when his phone buzzed with a text.

Phil: Hey, I know this is short notice but I'm gonna be traveling a lot these next few days, so I might be hard to reach. I'm really sorry, I just found out myself. I wish I could be there when you get the results, but my dad really needs me in nyc. I know you'll do well xx

Dan sighed, frowning at his phone.

Dan: Yeah, it's no problem. I understand. I'll text you when I get the email

Phil: Are you mad?

Dan: not really. Just a bit upset, I guess. I miss you

Phil: I miss you too x

Phil: again, I'm really sorry. I can make it up to you when I get back, take you out to dinner? Or we could just hang out your place or something

"If I even have a place when you get back…" Dan wanted to say.

Dan: I'd like that :)

Phil: great! I need to get packed. talk to you later, love

Dan: ttyl x

Dan sighed, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Maybe it's better that Phil won't be here," Dan thought, "I won't risk having a breakdown in front of him if I lose."

…

As the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, Dan's anxiety levels rose. He still hadn't gotten the email, which meant it had to be going out this evening.

"C'mon…" He muttered, refreshing the app for the umpteenth time in the past five minutes.

After another fruitless attempt, Dan sighed, turning off his phone and setting it on the counter. "Okay. I'm gonna close up, have dinner, and then I'll check." He decided. As he walked around and turned off the lamps, he could feel the weight of the phone in his pocket growing heavier and heavier. He wanted to check so bad… The writer stopped as he was reaching for the device. "Dinner first," He scolded himself.

…

Dan quickly realized he didn't have much of an appetite. He stared through his instant noodles, poking absent-mindedly at them with a fork. Finally, he stuck the container in the fridge and made his way to the couch.

Plopping down, Dan pulled his phone out again, staring at it for a few seconds before unlocking it and opening his Gmail app.

A new message loaded:

Young British Authors' Contest Results

Dan felt his stomach drop. This was it. This email literally decided his fate.

With shaking hands, Dan tapped on the screen. He felt like he was going to be sick. For a moment, he even considered just putting the phone down and coming back later, but he couldn't. Not after waiting for so long.

The page finally loaded to reveal a few paragraphs congratulating everyone on entering and thanking them for their support. Dan looked over the text until he found the section that included the winners. Taking a deep breath, he began to read.

For several minutes, the writer was still. His eyes were glazed over, and his mind was blank as he skimmed over the paragraph, reading it over and over again until the letters on the page seemed to melt into meaningless symbols.

Finally, something in his brain clicked.

"FUCK!" Dan turned, throwing his phone as hard as he could across the room where it bounced off the wall and clattered onto the rug.

The writer gasped for breath as he fell to the ground, his shoulders heaving. An aggravated yell sounded from his throat. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling fistfuls of it tightly. "No, no, no no, no…" he muttered quietly, letting out a shaky breath. "This can't…no." He began to sob. Hard, desperate, pitiful sobbing that shook his body with each breath.

"I've tried so hard to work myself up from this…" Dan thought, "this poverty I've been in my whole life…this can't be it…how can I… what will I do… I'm gonna lose everything. The store. My flat." The writer's breathing became heavier, his fingers digging into the carpet. "This is it for me… Pathetic. Useless. That's all I've proven to be…" His thoughts began to overlap, blending into a deafening white-noise. Can't write for shit. Losing everything. What would your grandpa say? No money. Just like your mother. Wasted all your savings on a year of university. All these books. Homeless. Broke. Alone. Worthless, fucking worthless. What does Phil see in you? Poor. Never stood a chance. Poverty cycle. You're going to lose your house. Everyone saw this coming. Living on the streets. Eviction. Debt. No where to stay. You told your mum things would be different."

Dan sobbed harder, his cries drifting off into the night.

…

New message, 2:43 am

Dan: I didn't win. I'm sorry.

A/N: idk how much I like this chapter ugh. I feel like all my work is super rushed and stuff and I need to embellish it with a bunch of detail.

I just want to write stuff and be happy with ittttttt