Dan Howell
My head is aching by the time I enter the overly crowded house. My mother's voice is replaying in my head along with Phil's bright blue eyes and I feel like screaming out. Right now, I just want to drink and drown my thoughts somewhere in the screeching music and blinding lights.
As I'm making my way to the bar to do just that, I notice a tall figure getting up and escaping, stumbling his way in one of the rooms and I know the figure well enough to recognise that it is Phil. What the hell is he doing here?
My eyes search around for PJ and he is sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping on a pint of red liquid which is probably cherry vodka, and I reluctantly make my way to him. One of his hands is tangled in his hair and when I approach him, calling his name he just looks at me, raising his eyebrows in a dismissive manner.
"What's um, what's up with Phil?" I ask him and he just shrugs, returning his attention back to his drink. I sigh frustratedly, grabbing a shot of clear liquid and gulp it down before making my way to the room I saw Phil stumbling into.
