paintbrushes and canvases // phan

t w o

"I believe that everyone is like an object. Someone could be a lamp, they help lighten up a room when it gets dark. Another could be a deodorant can, used when they're needed and then disposed of for another when they're ran out."

Dan and Phil had been talking for about an hour now. It took a little bit of time for Phil to get Dan to speak, but eventually the younger boy finally realised that Phil wasn't like the snobby neighbour that only wanted to gossip. He already knew Phil was different though, he just found it hard to believe that someone was actually willing to listen to his nonsense.

"What object do you think you are, Dan?"

Dan looks away from Phil, and looks at the wood of his coffee table instead. "I think I'm a paintbrush."

"A paintbrush?"

"Yeah..."

"Care to elaborate?"

Dan nods. "Sure. Well, paintbrushes can only do so much before they're ruined. When you first open that package of brushes, they're new. They're clean. They're useful. But the more you use them, the less useful they become. The bristles become hard and frayed, the handle gets dirty, the quality of your painting gets lower and lower.

I am that paintbrush that gets forgotten or thrown out because I used to be loved, I used to have people around me who supported me, I used to get calls and texts, asking when I'm next outside. But they got bored of me, they stopped bothering to smile at me, they stopped bothering to talk to me, they stopped caring in general," Dan lies through his teeth. "My bristles can't control the paint anymore, and that paint is my life. I can't control what goes on anymore, I can't control my emotions. I'm just a puppet in a world full of puppeteers."

Phil sits there, speechless. Dans gaze doesn't move from the coffee table, his thumbs twiddling, a habit he has.

"Wow."

"Wow? What's so wow about that?"

"That was amazing, Dan. L-like I've never had anyone talk so passionately before! I mean, my friends PJ and Chris are deep motherfudgers-"

"Motherfudgers? How old are you? 10?"

"Oh hush. Anyway, they have never said anything close to you and honestly, I disagree with you."

Dan looks up, his expression neutral. "Either way I know who I am and what I think, I don't need someone I've talked to for an hour trying to tell me what kind of a person I am. I'm twisted, I don't have a stable mind."

"Steady there," Phil holds up a hand. "Let's just agree to disagree."

"Whatever. I'm tired, and I'm going to go sleep my pointless life away. You can sit here by yourself or go home. I'm not giving you my wifi."

"Aw. But your wifi was all I came here for."

"Shame on you, Lester. I say you should go with the latter. Goodbye."

Dan doesn't even show him to the door, and walks off through a hallway.

Phil doesn't think much of it. "Bye Dan! I'll be sure to see you tomorrow."

Dan lay in his bed, groaning into his pillow after hearing Phil.

Fuck my life.

I say their names too much oops.