Your P.O.V:
I tracked my way back to Ray's house, and knocked on the door. It was almost 10am and she was always an early bird - so this would be halfway through the day for her.
I didn't have any sleep, and my eyes were heavy and sore from fatigue.
I kept my line of vision down to hide my lifeless face behind my hair.
I heard a key in the lock and after a short delay, the white door was swung inwards.
"Hello?" Her voice spoke. Her dark brown curls were swinging by her chin in a sharp bob cut. Her skin was clear and a smooth caramel shade.
"Hi Ray." I looked up and made contact with her hazel pupils. They widened in surprise.
"(y/n)?" She asked in disbelief. She stepped aside to let me in, implying she wanted to catch up on our lives. "I can't believe it. I haven't seen you in so long."
"I know. A lot has gone on." I sat down on her canvas blue sofa and her tabby cat slickly walked under my legs, purring against them.
"You don't look too good. Can I get you anything to drink? Or eat?"
I felt my stomach churn from emptiness, and my mouth was dry from screaming earlier that morning.
"Could I just have a glass of water please?" I smiled hopelessly at her.
If I asked to stay with her she would think I'm using her.
She probably already thinks that.
Ray ran into the other room and I heard the gushing of water and the grinding of her ice machine, before she presented me with a crystal glass and square ice cubes floating around, occasionally clinking against the side as the liquid swayed.
"Thanks so much." I mumbled, sipping at the cold, tasteless liquid.
"So what has happened? It's been a while."
I swallowed the last mouthful of water, thinking deeply.
"You first." She urged.
"Where do I start?"
/ / /
After around forty minutes of deep discussion, we were left in a hectic scene;
Ray was crying over what I told her, whilst I stared emotionlessly at her beige carpet.
"So you are engaged but homeless? And you can't even see him?"
It hit me that this was all like some kind of fucked up soap opera.
"I can - but he would flip out. He didn't trust me. Although to be fair, if I was never born he would still have his job and be even more of a millionaire. Not that he acts like one."
"You can't think like that-"
"Yes but it's true! If I had died before and hadn't woken up in hospital he would still have his job!" I yelled.
"But he wouldn't have you." She replied, grasping her warm coffee.
The steam clouded by the window she was leaning against from condensation.
My body cramped from repressed guilt.
"Well now he doesn't have either."
/ / /
My fingers itched for my phone or laptop to check what was going on across Twitter and Youtube, to see how many subscribers Dan had lost.
"Hey, is it okay if I see your computer quickly? I just wanna check my Twitter."
"Sure! Go ahead."
She swivelled around and handed me a Macbook.
"The password is 1234."
"Wow, that's easy to remember." I teased.
"I have a memory like a goldfish." She sighed. "I'm just gonna go to the kitchen and get some crisps. I'm peckish."
Her long legs stood up and she strolled around the corner of an open door towards where the kitchen was, out of sight.
Time for some research.
I opened Twitter, ignoring the hundreds of notifications I was receiving and searched "daniel howell".
I clicked enter and his profile loaded.
He hadn't lost followers, he was still around 7 million. This was fascinating to me.
I clicked on the comments of his most recent tweet and read them in my head.
"stay strong dan!"
"we love you, please come back dad."
"i miss you :(((( don't worry about what happened. we just want an update to see if you're okay"
Hmm, they were all positive and supportive.
His career definitely wasn't over.
So what was all the fuss about?
I clicked on my profile and to the recent comments.
"why the hell would you do such a shitty thing to him? he loved you."
"fuck you."
"kill yourself you SLAG!"
Ah, the hateful comments.
Why am I not surprised? It still hurt a lot, but I had been preparing myself. Nonetheless, butterflies brushed my stomach and I felt a familiar sickness overcome my mind.
I heard Ray come back through. She was crunching on a large bowl of crisps that was seemingly already half empty.
"Sorry." She giggled. "I couldn't help myself."
She set the bowl down and I tiredly watched the movement of her hand.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"No you're not." Ray's body swayed towards mine to try and see what was on the laptop. I tilted the screen so she couldn't see.
"Ugh, come onnnn." She complained, leaning more on top of me, prying the screen open with her crumby hands.
"It's fine." I reassured.
Ray froze and stared at me for a few seconds, implying she would leave it, before pouncing on me and snatching the Macbook off of me.
She opened it and typed the password in.
Her eyes scanned through the comments in horror.
"Oh my god."
Her mouth gaped open.
"Who is this?" Ray asked.
I kept my eyes down. "The fans."
"Fuck them." She slammed the screen shut and threw her Macbook to the side on the floor.
"Ray!!!" I yelled. Her Macbook could be broken.
"Don't worry about it. Come here." She held her arms open, and I fell into a tight hug.
It felt so good.
"Thank you, Ray."
"It's nothing."
/ / /
