SUPER RICH KIDS | PHAN

eight.

phil

the first time phil had heard him play, he had absolutely locked out the possibility of enjoying it. he had approached it with a sour mood, and had snubbed him just for the pleasure of making him feel bad. but that...

phil had been tired and half asleep, and he hadn't felt grumpy when he had been awoken by the soft sound of dan's guitar. he felt like he was half floating as he made his way to the door, so he hadn't had any defenses against dan's music. it had pierced into his chest and made its roots there, planting the seeds of something in his mind.

phil still hated him, of course. it was a different kind of seed growing, the seed of an idea for his own benefit.

dan had talent, he could tell that much, even if he hated it. and phil was going to use that.

phil got up early the next morning to buy a box of various pastries and five coffees, bringing them back to the shelter and setting them down on his desk. dan's odd troop seemed to be just starting to slowly wake up, yawning and stretching. dan frowned when he sat up and saw phil sitting behind the desk.

"good morning, sunshine," phil mumbled, a bit irritable. "you might want to turn that glare into a smile, i got you breakfast."

at the mention of breakfast earl jumped up, nearly scrambling over to the table. dan's frown morphed into a blank stare of shock.

phil watched earl shove the box open, looking over the scones and muffins phil had bought, with a slightly disgusted look on his face. god, he hated kids.

he looked back up at dan, whose eyes were now narrowed suspiciously. phil rolled his eyes.

"what do you want?" dan asked slowly. phil chuckled. he had to admit, he would be a good business partner.

"come here, why don't you find out."

to phil's surprise dan blushed, and stood up, making his way over to him. he carefully sat down in the chair phil had put on the other side of the desk, seemingly a bit uncomfortable. that might have sounded a bit more suggestive than phil had meant it to.

phil searched his face. "i have a proposition for you."

"i don't need a sugar daddy."

"excuse me?"

dan blushed darker, his gaze dropping to his lap. "sorry." he played with his fingers. "i get a lot of offers that start like that."

phil heard katrina snicker from the other side of the room, and he shot her a glare. "no... look, can they leave? i don't want their input right now."

dan raised his eyebrows, paused, and nodded. "okay." he turned back to look at them. "can you guys wait outside? promise it'll just be a few minutes."

katrina grumbled something in response and grabbed earl by the arm, who was happily nibbling on a croissant, before helping nina up. when they were finally gone and the door swung closed, dan turned back to him. phil took a deep breath.

"okay. so i heard you play."

dan frowned and crossed his arms. "i know, i know. you've heard better."

"no... last night."

dan frowned and looked up, confused. "so?"

phil ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back, already frustrated. his father was always able to conceal his emotions in order to make a deal, and clearly phil hadn't quite mastered that yet.

"so, you're good, okay?"

dan brightened. "really?"

"yeah, but don't expect me to say it again." phil pressed his lips together. "i could use you for something."

"for what?"

phil paused, tapping his fingers on the smooth surface of the desk, thinking. well, he might as well come clean.

"you were right. about the whole this not-being-from-the-goodness-of-my-heart thing."

dan looked far too pleased with himself. "i knew it."

"good for you, shut up." phil rubbed at his face. "my parents said i couldn't get the car i want unless i do something good for the world."

dan was smirking at him. phil wanted to smack him, but he refrained. he couldn't stop imagining the look on his mother's face when she found out her son had hit a homeless person.

"and you need me because...?"

phil sighed. "for it to even register to them, i have to do something big. i have to have this place stuffed with people like you, i have to have beds and food for everyone..." he left out the employees part. "it has to be a success. so, what i was thinking was you could help me traffic the place."

dan blinked, letting the words soak in. "with my guitar?"

phil nodded. "if people see someone in your..." he cleared his throat. "situation, and you're able to catch their attention with your skill, it'll be really good advertisement."

dan's confused frown was back. "are you asking me to write a jingle for your homeless shelter? i'm not a mascot."

phil shook his head. "i was thinking something more like a concert, it could spread awareness, and we could take donations. i could definitely get the press on it, and all you'd have to do is show up and play."

dan watched him, chewing on his plump bottom lip. "what will i get out of it?"

phil sighed. "exposure... and, i promise i'll make sure you and your annoying friends have a roof over your head and daily meals," he mumbled reluctantly, even though he knew the second he got that car he was ditching the entire project. dan grinned.

"now you're talking." still, he glanced over his shoulder, clearly thinking about consulting his friends. "but i dunno..."

phil reached out and touched his wrist, making dan look back at him, meeting his eyes.

"this is your decision," phil muttered. "not theirs. you have to decide what you're willing to do to make sure they have a bed to sleep in. especially that old woman... she doesn't look like she'll last much longer as it is." dan's eyes were wide and phil smirked. he had hit a nerve. "so, dan... what's it gonna be?"

dan only hesitated for a minute before he nodded, holding out his hand. this time, phil shook it, grinning.

"perfect. you get a bed to sleep in and three meals a day and i get that brand new lamborghini. deal?"

dan nodded, chewing on his lip. his hand was softer than phil had expected.

"deal."