Heart Break -phan

Part title

The boy cast a glance towards the other male, his chin propped up on a hand. He turned away, a sigh passing from between his lips.

He was surrounded by people he didn’t really know the names of.

His brow had furrowed in thought, and he closed his eyes.

"It’s happening again.."

He glanced back at the other boy, who’d tipped his head back and laughed boisterously at some joke a rather bubbly girl had whispered to him.

He didn’t know him, yet most of the population of their class was drawn to him, like metal to a powerful magnet. Every smile made the girls swoon, every comment which left those grinning lips made the other boys impressed with his wit.

It was no exaggeration to say that this boy was the epitome of perfection.

He was everything Dan couldn’t be.

—

Don’t you remember?

—

There was a boy who sat next to him.

Curly brown hair, brown eyes, thick eyebrows and an empty gaze. He was always alone, looking out the window and down onto the courtyard below. He’d never seen him speak to anyone, not even the teacher, much less pay attention in class, yet whenever the blue-eyed boy snuck a glimpse at the papers the other boy held after every exam, there was always one constant thing written.

The boy always had a perfect score.

He decided that he would make friends with him, he nodded to himself. He’d be the first one to talk to the silent guy, since their other classmates always seemed so scared of the boy. (He didn’t understand why, though, since he looked harmless, really. It was weird that the boy never pulled up his sleeves, though, even when they did lab work during Science. It was as if that he was hiding something, but that couldn’t be, right?)

Phil turned around in his seat, smiled and held out his hand.

“Hey there, seatmate,” he greeted cheerfully.

“I’m Phil. Who are you?”

The boy looked at him.

“No one important.”

—

You were the one who first approached me.

—

“Tell me your name.”

He looked away, preoccupied with his book. Underneath it lay the folded test paper, marked with a clear ‘100’ in glaring red ink.

Phil pouted, tapping the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, tell me your name. Please?”

“Why must you bother me?” He asked quietly, dull eyes looking into bright blue behind black-framed glasses.

“It’s because I want to be friends!”

He frowned. “No thank you.”

“Come ooonn! Tell me!” Phil grinned, hands latching onto the edge of the boy’s desk. “Please? Please?”

With an aggravated sigh, the boy closed his eyes. “Dan.”

Phil tilted his head. “What?”

“My name is Dan Howell.”

—

You were the one constant I couldn’t get rid of.

—

“Dan, how do I do this?”

“Who’s Rosaline supposed to be in this?”

“Dan—“

“Just shut up,” The Briton snapped, whacking the other boy on the head with the rolled up reviewers, “I can’t study with everything you’re spouting.”

Phil pouted at that, rubbing at his maltreated head. “So mean, Dan.”

“I’m not mean,” Dan grumbled, shoving the reviewer in the boy’s general vicinity, “now get to studying, idiot. I’m not tutoring you for nothing.”

“Thanks Dan!” With that, the blue-eyed boy wrapped his arms around his best friend in a hug.

“Don’t call me that!”

—

So I’m asking you: remember when you asked me if I was okay and I said I was?

—

There was an empty seat next to him. It was by the window, the view looking down on the courtyard below.

Phil looked at the vase set atop the desk, at the red, red roses confined within the glass. He looked away.

“Phil” a dark-haired boy walked over to his desk, a concerned look in those dark eyes. “What were you doing?”

He forced a smile as he looked at the roses again. “Nothing, Just.. remembering.”

They were as red as the blood which had trickled from his best friend’s slitted wrists.

—

I lied.

—