Chapter 8
Realizations

Phil had been so proud of Dan when he watched that video, so impressed with Dan's composure and maturity, with his ability to maintain his dry sense of humour while talking about something so important to him. Most of all, he'd been impressed with Dan's openness as he'd heard him talk about all the feelings and hopes he'd apparently been keeping inside while living with Phil. It had hurt, too—he could admit that, at least to himself—but it had been wonderful to feel like Dan had been being beautifully true and honest in a way Phil had never before seen him be with the world at large, or apparently even with Phil himself in recent times. There had been something in Dan's face in the video, something free or new, like something beautiful being born. It had been absolutely mesmerizing and giddying.

He hadn't texted Dan immediately after watching the video, because he'd been afraid that the amount of emotion he'd been feeling—especially the hurt about how Dan had been hiding all of this from him—would be apparent even in a short message. And he hadn't wanted to appear desperate, like he had nothing better to do than sit around waiting for notifications that Dan had uploaded a video. So he'd decided to wait until the next morning, but now that he'd woken up and looked at his phone it was obvious that he'd waited too long … as he read all the hate messages the video had triggered. Still in bed, half awake, he immediately sent a hasty text:

Don't listen to the haters. Your video was fantastic. YOU are fantastic!

He didn't hear anything back for a couple hours, but he spent that time filming his own video response, which he uploaded late in the morning, wanting it up as quickly as possible to help emotionally shore Dan up at a time that must be hard on him. Phil knew how Dan tended to worry about what other people thought of him, how he feared being judged and found wanting in any way, and so he knew this large-scale fan reaction must be rough.

He expected to hear from Dan sometime that day, but … nothing. He sent another text, just in case Dan didn't have notifications set for Phil's own videos anymore (and didn't that idea hurt like hell?):

Watch the video I uploaded this morning. It says what I think better than texts can.

Still no response. So he finally decided to phone before heading off to bed for the night. He hadn't actually phoned Dan since … well … since they'd gone their separate ways after the end of TATINOF. It had been more than 7 years since he'd gone this long without hearing Dan's voice. Hell, it had been years since he'd gone more than a couple days without hearing Dan's voice! But his call went directly to voicemail. He left a message:

"Dan, it's Phil. I know you haven't gotten the best response to your video, but I thought it was amazing and that you're very brave and … well … you should watch the video I uploaded this morning, because it explains better than I can on the phone. Just … call me, yeah? I'm worried about you. I know how you are when you get bad feedback, and this has been the worst, and you don't deserve it for a second. So … call me when you get this."

He'd been awkward and it made him feel like an idiot, but he'd still expected Dan to get back to him.

Still nothing.

Was Dan angry with him about the video he'd posted? Did he feel like Phil was interfering when Dan was trying to "do his own thing"? Phil had only been trying to help, but maybe it had seemed overbearing or something. He began to fret as days went by and he still didn't hear from Dan. He sent another text:

I'm sorry if my video made you mad or something. I only wanted to help. I was only being honest. I'm sorry if you didn't like it. Please just call me. Or text. You're worrying the hell out of me.

Still nothing.

It had been more than a week when he finally heard something, and even then it hadn't been from Dan. Louise had phoned him. They were in sporadic contact, so hearing from her wasn't a surprise, but what she had to say was shocking:

"Phil, I'm at Dan's place. He's in a bad way. I think he's been … I think he hasn't been eating or … um … showering. Ew. Sorry. It's just kind of gross. And he had glass in his feet, but I took that out…" This had all been said in one breath so that Phil didn't have a chance to get a word in, but he interrupted her.

"Louise! Slow down! What happened? Did something happen to Dan? He's … depressed or something? Because of the fans?"

Louise hesitated a moment. "I don't know. I guess so. He called me, crying, and said he needed help. I came over—I didn't even know where he was living until today–and I took care of his feet, because he'd stepped on some glass, and I made him some soup. He's so skinny and pale, Phil!" And she started crying.

Phil pressed a hand over his eyes. This was so much worse than he'd been imagining. He knew how Dan could go into these dark moods, how he could fall into depression if something bad happened, and now Phil hadn't been there to help. He could imagine now how it had gone, how Dan would have just sunk deeper and deeper into self-loathing with no one to step in to talk him out of it. Irrationally, Phil felt guilty that he hadn't been there. Sure, Dan had been the one to decide to move out, but reason didn't necessarily play a role in how Phil felt, and he felt like he should have been there.

Louise was still crying, so Phil gently shushed her and assured her that everything was going to be all right, that he was so glad she was there for Dan. "Where is he now?" he asked.

"After I bandaged his feet, he ate a little bit of soup and then said he wanted to go back to sleep. I told him he should at least watch your video, but he said he wasn't ready to go online again yet. I made him promise to watch it as soon as he wakes up." She paused a moment, but Phil didn't know what to say and so didn't jump in. Her voice was quieter, gentler, when she continued, "It was a beautiful video, Phil."

He blushed. The way she said it, he wondered if more of his feelings had been apparent than he'd realized. He wasn't even sure of what all his feelings were—things had been a little confusing since Dan had moved out—so he hated to think he'd given something away without even being aware.

But Louise was still talking, "You're the kindest person I've ever known, Philip Lester. And the most wonderful friend. I feel lucky to be one of your friends, and I wish we'd seen more of each other lately."

Phil felt guilty for a moment, as he'd been neglecting his other friends a bit, hiding away after Dan's rejection, not wanting to hear everyone's sympathy, but Louise sounded genuinely hurt.

"Let's get together this week," Phil said. "I've missed you." And he realized that he meant it. He should really call PJ, too. And he hadn't talked to Felix or Marzia since he'd stayed with them in December, which he realized was incredibly rude. Okay. Time to reconnect with some people. But first, make sure Dan was going to be okay. "But first, just take care of Dan."

Louise laughed tiredly. "Oh, he won't let me do much. You know him. But I'll go out and buy some Maltesers…"

"No," Phil interrupted. "You stay there with him. I'll run to the shops and buy some things. Maltesers, his favorite biscuits, that sort of thing … pick up a pizza with his favorite toppings. I'll bring them by if you … um … if you want to give me the address. Do you think he'd mind? I won't come in…"

This time Louise was the one to interrupt, her voice soft. "I'm sure it would be fine, Phil. And it would be really kind of you. Yes, please. I'll stay here in case he wakes up, and you bring a few things you think he'd like."

Phil nodded, not even thinking about the fact that Louise wouldn't be able to see him over the phone. It felt good to know he could help in some small way. "I'll be there in half an hour. Maybe a little more, to get the pizza."

Louise agreed, and they signed off. Phil was out the front door within 5 minutes, his hair still in a ridiculous sleep quiff he hadn't even noticed.

You are the best friend any person ever had in the history of the universe.

The text came in just when Phil was sitting down to dinner on the new sofa in his new lounge. Neither of them was all that new anymore, as he'd been living there for nearly 3 months now, but he still thought of them that way. It wasn't their sofa, or their lounge, and so it all still felt new and a little bit wrong.

Dan must have finally seen his video. Phil blushed, alone in his flat. The next text arrived only seconds later:

I was literally crying

Phil didn't know what to say to that. Was that a good thing? Dan cried easily even at the best of times, but in his current emotional state, were tears a sign that he was feeling worse?

I think you should take those big risks and follow your heart. You deserve everything good in the world.

Phil relaxed, the unnoticed tension leaving his body. Dan wouldn't have written that if he was still stuck in the depressive spiral in his own head. He was thinking about someone besides himself, something outside his own mind, and that was a good sign. Phil wondered, though, if Dan had any idea what kinds of risks Phil had been thinking about when he'd said that in his video, the confused feelings he'd been struggling with these past few months. Living without Dan had made him realize how much he relied on their closeness for his happiness.

Yes, he would need to call Louise and PJ and Felix and Marzia and start getting together with people. He'd been sulking alone too much, grieving for what he didn't have and forgetting what he did have. Hell, maybe he could even go on a date or two. It had been years since he'd really even thought about it. He shied away from thinking about why.

Dan had called him his "friend" in the text. Maybe he was open to reestablishing more of that friendship as time went on, maybe moving beyond texting, but he'd given no indication that he might be open to anything more. Phil tried not to think about what "more" might entail and texted back:

I'm not as brave as you. But you make me want to try. Thank you.

Maybe not try that, what he'd just been thinking, but it looked like his new solo show on Radio 1 would be starting soon … and VidCon was only three months off … and he hadn't been putting many videos up on his own channel lately … and he'd been neglecting his other friendships. He needed a kick in the pants to get him started again, and maybe this was it. If Dan could have the courage to put up that video, then Phil could have the courage to go on without Dan. Well, mostly without Dan. With Dan just texting once in a while. It would be enough. It would have to be.

Phil's phone pinged to tell him another text had arrived.

ILY Phil Lester

Phil knew that wasn't meant the way it sounded—the light-hearted Internet abbreviation made that obvious—which is what made it hurt so much. In that moment, he knew what he'd been trying so hard to ignore: he was in love with Dan Howell … and Dan Howell barely wanted anything to do with him anymore.