Lists | Phan

Five: Dan's Control

Phil was dressed as the Mad Hatter. A long white coat with tails, accentuated with hearts, diamonds, clubs and spades covered a buttoned up white waistcoat. A dark green tie adorned his neck, and perched atop his head was a large top hat, decorated with roses and cards. Tight-fitting black jeans clung to his legs and disappeared into clunky black biker boots.

After Phil had exited the bathroom after changing, Tyler had whistled and shouted that he was 'giving PJ's ass a run for his money.'

PJ's flush deepened, and Louise claiming that the 'butt game' was 'too strong tonight' really wasn't helping.

It was about ten thirty by the time the teens exited Tyler's apartment complex and headed down the road – already intoxicated and incredibly noisy. They passed a few other groups of dressed-up party-goers, some on their way to and from nightclubs and bars in the area. Phil made sure to spare a grin and a wink for every group they saw – feeling a rush of excitement seep through his body at the flirty or flustered reactions he was rewarded with.

He could happily admit that he looked damn good; dark hair styled precisely under the top hat, kohl-rimmed eyes burning with in a confident intensity.

Was this how Dan felt every day? Did he feel the heated gaze of everyone around him, and use it for his own personal gain? Did he simply bathe in other people's desire, or was every one of his moves and glances so calculated that people didn't know they wanted him until they'd accidentally made eye contact? Phil frowned. Dan hadn't done anything to him. Sure, he'd seen him use his charms on other people, but the most Dan had ever done was berate him; spitting words like poison at him. But Phil was still hooked, and it was so fucking frustrating-

"Well, I'd imagine this is it..."

Phil looked up at the sound of Louise's voice.

They didn't even have to look at the address to know they were at the right place; they could practically feel the baseline pumping through the ground where they stood, and the amount of costumed teens milling around the front garden and hanging out of illuminated windows was enough of a clue.

Louise squealed,

"Woohoo, let's get our party on!" and began running up the path to the front door, hurling it open and disappearing inside without a glance back.

Tyler shrugged and chased after her, plastic black cape whipping out behind him.

By now a few of the party-goers had recognised Phil's group, and Phil felt the heat of their stares like never before. He made a conscious effort to roll his hips slightly as he walked, trying to mimic how he'd seen Dan do it. Hooding his eyes and offering easy grins and waves to familiar faces, and made his way inside. The first plan of action was to find Zoe and spout some obligatory great party, thanks for inviting us blah blah bullshit – and then it was on to the main reason he was here:

Dan.

~~~~~

Two hours into the party and Phil was exhausted. Constantly moving around cradling a half-drunk bottle of beer and keeping tabs on his friends was tiring enough, but no, he was mentally shattered.

The pure effort Phil put into socialising; the smiles, the waves, the friendly punches, fake laughing at terrible jokes, putting up with drunken idiots, girls who were trying to get all over him, desperately scouring his memory for someone's name, forcing his eyebrows to not knit themselves together in a scowl...

Why was this so easy for other people? How could people like Chris and Tyler just waltz into a place like this as if they owned it, while Phil was trapped, forced to consciously command himself to smile and laugh and do all those things that normal fucking human beings do...