Second chapter time! *excited dance* This got uploaded way sooner than I thought it would. But weyhey, I had computer access, so I went for it!

Phil

I started my walk to school, making sure to walk as slowly as I could without ending up late. I slid my earphones in and turned on my stereo, starting to bob my head to Panic! At The Disco. I let Brendon Urie's voice soothe me as I walked in time with the music. I was in a much better mood by the time I got to school, having almost completely forgotten about the dream.

I met up with my best friend Anja outside the school. She smiled at me like she knew something I didn't. I had a love/hate relationship with that smile of hers. "Hey," I said, pulling my earphones out and slipping them into my pocket. "Hey. You look….tired," she said, looking me up and down with a smirk. Without so much as a warning, the full weight of the dream crashed back onto my shoulders, effectively keeping me from floating away. "I didn't sleep well," I confessed, shrugging and rubbing the back of my neck. "Oh, yeah? What happened?" Anja asked, falling into step beside me.

I hesitated, looking at her from the corner of my eye. Can I trust her? What if she hates me? Will she tell everyone? I thought anxiously. She gave me a curious look, before understanding flitted across her face. She gave me a gentle smile and slipped her small hand into mine. I smiled back, instantly relaxing. This was my best friend we were talking about here. She would never hate me.

I told her about the dream as we walked across campus. We probably looked like a couple, which we weren't. Anja was my best friend. I loved her, I just wasn't attracted to her. When I asked her about it, she told me the exact same thing. She was my best friend. She didn't like me, at least not in that way. After that, any existing tension between us (if there was any in the first place) vanished. We were friends, and that was just the way we liked it.

When I finished telling Anja about my dream, I looked down at her, trying to gauge her reaction. I heaved an inward sigh of relief as she gave me a reassuring smile. "That sounds…not fun," she said, chewing her lip. "I just want you to know that no matter your sexuality, I will never hate you. I'll always be here for you."

"Thanks, Anja," I smiled, relief flooding through my chest, smothering the flames of worry and doubt that had previously flickered inside me. I pulled her into a big bear hug, grateful to have such an amazing friend. She squeezed me back tightly before letting go.

"Ugh. I've got chemistry, which is on the other side of the school. See you later, yeah?" she asked as she turned to go. "Oh course. See you at lunch." I smiled as she bounded down the hall, turning back to wave at me. It's comforting to know that not everyone in this world is a total ass.

The smile soon faded from my face and I groaned inwardly as I turned to head to English. Probably my least favorite class of the day, considering most of the people in it were absolute dicks. Toughen up, Buttercup, I thought bitterly, mentally slapping myself into shape. You can do this.

I trudged down the hallway, trying to avoid the judgmental gaze of my peers by hunching over and staring at my feet, hands jammed in my pockets. Someone slammed into my shoulder as I walked past them. Him and his buddies laughed harshly, high-fiving each other and jeering at me. "Hey, queer!" one of them, I'm assuming the leader, yelled. I ignored them and continued walking.

A stocky guy with spiky, blonde hair grabbed the strap of my bag, yanking me back. "Didn't you hear me?" the leader laughed. "Going to see your boyfriend after school?" he snorted loudly. "Shut up," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.

The blonde guy slammed me against the locker, the combination lock hitting my spine painfully. I winced, knowing I'd have yet another bruise. "What was that, fag?" the biggest, dumbest-looking one shouted in my face. "I said, shut up," I sneered back at him. Where was this newfound confidence coming from? "And FYI, you could use a mint."

The leader's fist connected with my jaw forcefully. I heard it pop, and I knew the nurse would have to set it in place again. I fell to the ground and curled up in the fetal position, waiting for the blows to begin battering my body. They started kicking me, knocking the wind out of me with each hit.

"Don't mess with us, faggot. I hope that now you know what you're up against," The leader stalked off, his crew scurrying after him. I waited until they were around the corner to get up, leaning against the lockers for support. I limped to the nurse's office, wishing I had been strong enough to stand up to them.

But I'm not strong enough. I'm not even strong enough to do the thing I've desperately wanted to do ever since I started high school: end my life. Or at least cut. I know if I start, the emotional pain will go away, but I'm too cowardly to draw my own blood. Every time I've tried, I end up shaking, sobbing, unable to touch the blade to my skin.

I buried my head in my hands.

Aww, poor Phil. I felt really bad writing that. DISCLAIMER: As far as I know, none of this has happened. I am not implying that it has or that I want either Dan or Phil to be sad.

Guys, guys, guess what?! Next chapter is going to be Dan's POV! Yay! Aren't you excited? First time we get to see him in the story! *le fake moustache and monocle* Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!