Jerk, Sophomore, Howell. (Dan Howell X Reader)

Ch. 4 - Bad Day?

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Worrying about which role you'd be getting in the future and who you'd be casted with was what accompanied your thoughts. It is now lunch time and auditions for the drama showcases are tomorrow.

"Y/N, there's nothing to worry about," Phil comforted. "You're a great actor, you've got amazing grades, you're beautiful... I-I'm sure you'll make through smoothly," he stammered on his words. You smile at him with kind eyes, appreciating his words.

"If I don't make it in the play at the end of the year-" Phil grabs your arm —considering that you're sitting right next to him— making you stop talking. He mouths the word relax and you end your anxiety-run sentences.

"Today is the first day of school and you're already freaking out about the end of the year. You need to take a deep breath- come on." Phil adjusts your body and his too, making you two face each other. "Breath in... and breath out," he commands. "Now picture this. You're on stage, in front of everybody."

"Okay."

Phil continues, "you-... close your eyes. You do your act with the lines given. You cry as ordered and the judges stand up applauding! They tell you right there that you have made it because you did so well! What happens next?"

You breath, trying to answer Phil's question. "I bow, thanking the judges and I walk down the steps off the stage... and I trip on my own two feet, fall to my death, arrive at the hospital where I am unable to be revived."

Phil facepalms for a second before sitting back up straight. You open your eyes. "Okay," he forgives your response. "What about Dan? Imagine this; close your eyes."

You adjust your body and do as told.

"Now, he's auditioning. After he reads his lines, what happens?"

You sigh, "the judges say he's perfect and they kick me out and give Daniel everything he wants as they leave me to die at the hospital." You open your eyes and stare at Phil's glaring face.

"If you don't cooperate then I don't know how you're going to get in," he teases.

"Phil," you whine. "I so need you. After lunch, I'm going back with that excuse of a human."

"How do you know?"

"We have the same homeroom. Next class is Language Arts and that's our homeroom teacher. I have him, trust me," you answer as you toss your plate of food. "Is it me or does the salad get worse?"

"Hey, you need to calm down. Try to be his friend."

"I don't know how to be a friend of my enemy. He's a pig! I can't be friends with a pig." You rest your head onto your hand and look towards the group of Daniel's friends.

Phil hits your forehead. "Snap out of it! You're going to do great! I hope you haven't moved—"

"What do you mean?"

"Because I am coming over today." You smile at him wanting to help.

"Thank you, Philip."

He shrugs as he takes a bite of his lunch, "maybe bringing Dan could help too. Get over your fear."

You smack his shoulder and he laughs, "that's not funny!"

"He can just walk to your house, to be honest."

Oh, God. "Shut up."

The forth period bell rings. "Well, have fun, Y/N. See you in fifth!" Phil pats your shoulder and stands up. He tosses his tray of food on his way to his next class as you sigh and become on your way to yours.

-

Walking into class made you feel as if your organs were rearranged. As if you're on a rollercoaster that goes straight down. You look around for Daniel, hoping that he isn't the one making you feel queasy. Though, he's no where in sight.

Holding your breath, you run out the classroom. You crashed into some students, but you didn't care. You needed to puke.

After finally hitting the bathroom, you run into an empty stall and start to throw up your lunch, sitting in the stall, not caring about the world.

Knock knock.

You stand up and walk out of the stall, trying to see who it was that knocked. Phil. He was standing at the doorway of the restroom, knowing he wasn't allowed in.

"You okay?"

You sigh, walking over to the sink. "I'm good. I actually dropped my backpack, do you—"

He holds up your backpack so you can see that he has it, "I was going the wrong way to my class. I saw you running and you dropped your bag." He smiles and tosses the bag to you and you catch it, setting it into a sink.

"You planning on walking home today?"

"Yeah. You wanna walk with me?"

He nods. "I better get back to my class. It's bad enough that I'm late without a reason."

"Thank you."

Staring into the mirror, you think about not going to school tomorrow. But you have auditions. "Fuck," you whisper to yourself.

Walking back to class wasn't so hard, considering you just puked your lungs out. You sit down at your seat and toss your head onto the desk.

"Hey, babe," Dan greets as he slides onto the desk.

"Ugh, I forgot I sit by you, and don't call me babe."

He rolls his eyes. "Sorry, tuts."

"Don't call me that either."

"Daniel," the teacher calls. He looks up to see Mr. Dapper move his hand up and down, a sign to take a seat.

"Damn, that teacher is everywhere," he sits normally. "What's your next period?" Dan asks.

You look up, confused.

"Why?"

"Oh, I just want to know if you have the same class as me. How many chances of bothering you do I have?"

You sigh. "P.E."

"Ahh, same as me, I see. What teacher?"

"Wilson, now please don't talk to me."

"Oh, I have Lopez. Who knew that Mexicans can do more than eat, sleep, and throw a party," he says, sarcastically.

"You're a racist ass, aren't you?"

He sighs dramatically, "I guess."

"So," you start. "Am I going to have to hangout with you more often if we end up in a play together?"

He scoffs, folding up a piece of paper. "Why would we need to do that?"

"To rehearse," you reply back, talking in a 'duh' tone.

"Hey, no talking back to the drama king—"

"Drama queen." He glares at you, you staring back. "You walked right into that, fucker."

"Hey, fine, whatever!" Dan throws the paper airplane he made and slides his bum on top of his desk.

"Okay, I understand that girls are so into you, but, how many girlfriends have you really had," you ask, resting your head onto your hand.

"Uhh, I don't know. None."

"None," you ask, surprised.

"Yeah, I get a lot of girls confessing their love to me, though."

"They must be blind," you roll your eyes.

"They must be smart, you mean," Dan bobs his head.