unlovable ; phan

9.

authors note: sorry it's been so long! ive been super duper busy and ive written chapters but i wasn't happy with them, but i am back! ♡

“Good morning.” Phil greeted me as I sat up.

“Morning? I slept all day and night?” I asked looking at Phil’s clock.

Wait. Phil’s clock. Phil’s room. Phil’s bed. I slept in Phil’s bed all night. But if I was in Phil’s room…

“Oh for fucks sake. Phil, why didn’t you wake me up? Where did you sleep?”

“In the guest room.”

“The guest room? In your own house? You should have woken me. I would have slept there.”

“You were sleepy. I wasn’t going to wake you. But I’m glad you’re up now, Sweet. My parents are taking their lunch break in a few hours so we’re going on a cruise on one of the yachts for lunch. Get ready.”

I brought my hands to my eyes rubbing the sleep away hoping I didn’t look too horrible. Now that I’m not homeless there’s no reason for me not to look okay for Phil. I knew there was no arguing this anymore either. Phil wanted me to meet his parents despite how terrified I am about it. What am I going to say to them? I can’t impress them! They’re The Lesters! And I’m…a Howell. My own name sounds so dirty in my own mind compared to Phil’s name. How could Philip Lester get involved with Daniel Howell?

“I don’t even have anything to wear.” I sighed more towards myself than Phil.

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled to himself opening his wardrobe.

For himself, he pulled out a pair of black dress pants and a sky blue button up top complete with a black tie. He turned to look at me with a sad glance.

“I’m afraid my clothes might be too big on you for right now since you’re so underweight.” He replied pulling out his phone and dialing in a number. “Hey, would you mind coming to my place for a bit? I need you to take measurements for a friend. We’re having lunch with my parents today.”

I stared at him wondering who the hell he’s talking to. Measurements for what? What am I supposed to do right now? I got out of Phil’s bed pulling the duvet over the pillows and spreading the wrinkles out. Phil finished up his conversation and turned back to me.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Are you alright?”

“Just nervous about meeting your parents. I don’t even know how to dress for this or how to get ready.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He smiled pulling me into him wrapping his arms around my waist. “That’s why I called Maggie. She’s going to take good care of you.”

“Maggie?”

“My stylist and tailor. She’s going to take care of everything. You just stand there and do what she tells you.”

“Alright.” I nodded against his chest.

Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better.

***

The second Maggie walked in the door with her assistants, everything went in fast-forward. She dragged me away from Phil and into a small empty room with a few random boxes. She had a tape measure and measured all around me lifting my arms, spreading my legs—doing whatever she needed writing down numbers as she went. I guess these were the measurements Phil was referring to. She handed the paper with all my measurements to one of the assistants who nodded and wordlessly walked out the door.