I'm not afraid to say this has been the most uncomfortable day of my life.
I've just been lounging about the house. Trying not to set off Phil whenever he goes to the kitchen for food.
A creak runs through the house followed by loud clunking footsteps.
Speak of the devil jesus Dan read a YA book.
I can hear the stairs between to creak and tighten the blanket around my shoulders. It seems like I'm always cold but the moment cold weather comes around I jump for joy.
The tv before me is playing some show on rerun and my laptop is open to the Tumblr screen. Most of the time I would be working on some band edit but today my level of motivation is below zero.
"Hey." I turn to Phil but he ignores me, walking into the kitchen and opening all the cabinets. "Get me a chip bag?"
His voice rises over to me, a groan slowly ascending until it echoes through the house.
"What kind?"
I roll my eyes and fall on my back, my head hanging off the armrest. "Umm... what's good?"
He groans again and I suppress a smile.
"We got. Cheetos, Doritos-"
"Cool ranch?"
Crinkles came from the kitchen. "No... yes."
"So?"
"Yes we have a baby bag."
"You call it a baby bag?"
Phil somehow groans louder. "Isn't that what they are called?"
"No."
"What are they then Mr. Chip Expert?"
"Mini's"
"Blame my mother," he tosses the bag all the way across the room and laughs as it connects with my face.
"Thank you."
"What ever." Phil walks into the room with a family sized box of cereal and a pack of mini donuts. I stare at him but his gaze is on the screen. "Are you watching gay Spanish soap operas?"
I tilt my head and sure enough there are too men kissing in the rain to incredible dramatic music while a brown skinned woman watches them through a window.
"I guess I am. I was just trying to decide what I want to edit." I gesture towards my laptop, now open to Photoshop with a single photo of Melanie Martinez on the white backround.
"Oh. Cool. What do you make gifs for."
I can feel my chest concave and look up to see Phil unzipping the doughnut bag, the powder turns his fingertips white and he glances at me. I smile.
"T-tumblr mostly."
Phil nods in recollection. "I used to have one of those. Got boring as fuck."
'Good, be free small son.' I mentally whisper and flinch when I process my thoughts. Calm down brain. "Oh. That's nice. Do you have any suggestions?"
"Um. Something to do with plants maybe? I quite like plants." Phil shrugs, his cheeks puffed with a distinct white power around his lips.
"I can do that." I google up aesthetic plants and hum the song lyrics I have in mind.
Phil sits next to me and offers me a chip. I shake my head and fall back into my work.
The onscreen music changes from a soft dramatic melody to playful laughter and a crow's song.
"What is t-"
Before I can fully ask Phil has slapped his hand over my mouth and aggressively shushed me. On the TV is a show's logo surrounded by tree branches. 'Over the Garden Wall.' Alright then.
I go back to my scrolling and chose some of the pictures I think meld together the best.
"I have that plant. Named her Ryce." Phil notes and takes his hand away. Some shit Gatorade commercial is on screen and he looks over my shoulder.
I try my bet to ignore the way it makes my skin prickle and my cheeks grow red.
"That's... nice I guess." I start to create the separate files and Phil giggles.
"I like the file names. Birbs, kittens, holy shit why did I save this, totally not porn."
My body heats up and I quickly click away from my folders. "Those are known of your concern."
"Fine." He flops against the couch and his head hovers dangerously close to my neck. "They can't be that bad regardless."
"And why would you say that?" Suddenly I was filled with the need to prove Phil wrong.
"You don't seem like the hardcore smutty type guy is all." He shrugs and places his arms behind his head.
"And how would you decode that?" I ask, Phil is always doing this. He treats me like a child and it is so fucking irritating.
"I don't know." He shrugs and grabs a handful of chips.
"I swear to god if you say it's the way I hold myself I will fu-"
"I wasn't going to say that. I was just wondering how long it would take before you snapped."
"Screw you." My cheeks burn and I shut my laptop's lid.
"I knew it. How bad is it?"
"You are so fucking weird." I stare at my knees and refuse to meet Phil's eyes. This is such a weird conversation, this is such a weird time, Phil is so odd it hurts.
"Is it really that bad?"
"You're just trying to rile me up now." I claim. "You always do this and it's so irritating. You always go into these mega personal conversations and act like they mean nothing when in reality you know they make people uncomfortable. So what's up with it? It's annoying as hell! I want to have a normal conversation for once!"
"Where's your girlfriend?" Phil asks and I tense, our previous conversation from... what? days ago? Comes back to haunt me. My fingers tighten around the laptop and I force my eyes to meet Phil's, come on Howell. Time too put all those shitty community center acting lessons to use.
"I don't know?"
"Really? Because last night you didn't seem to know she was real."
Fuck my loud ass mouth when I'm drunk. Seriously, it can burn in hell with me when I die. (Yes I know I'm going to hell, don't ask why.)
"Drunk people. Can't tell their heads from their feet." I shrug and try to laugh but my face is slowly losing color and my grip is only getting tighter.
Phil hums and leans back in his couch, continuing to munch on his never ending food pile and focus on whatever the hell is playing now. It's switched to some kids commercial with kids holding an overused game and smiling so wide my cheeks ached out of sympathy.
"Did you have fun last night?" I ask to guide the conversation away from my 'girlfriend' and to whatever the hell poor Phil had to endure with last night. No matter how many times I've asked nobody will tell me the type of drunk I am. It must be the 'take off all clothes through out the night' type or something equally as worse.
"Sure. I didn't get as wasted as I wanted but it turned out to be a good thing."
"Really? Why?"
He doesn't answer and instead folds the finished bag, setting his on the side table. "You got a package."
My eyebrows furrow the more he talks and my head reels. 'WHAT PACKAGE?' mail? please let it be mail. "From who?"
"I didn't look through your mail Dan. But it was from your sister, forget her name."
I jump to my feet and sprint into the dining room. Leaving Phil in the dust.
"Whoa there speed racer. I brought them to your room."
My groan bounces off the walls and I can almost feel Phil rolling his eyes. "But that's so far away."
"How do you think I feel? I walk them up there. Nice posters by the way." I hear Phil snicker and my face heats up.
"Pete Wentz or Gerard Way?"
"Both were equally revealing and great."
"Well thank you." Back when I was sucked into the really really bad band obsession. (you know the one. I'd do anything for ____!!! or ____ literally is the gayest band ever especially ___ and ___ XDddddd.)
I return to the living room and Phil is crumbling up his second bag, he puts it in the bigger one and balls that up.
"Why are you putting them together?" I ask and fall down next to him. Checking my phone as I go.
Every Sunday I Skype my parents with updates, how I am, if I'm having a good time, things like that, last time I did it we had fun. I showed them all the souvenirs I (unashamedly) at the airport and most of my new bedroom.
"I like the organization. I guess." Phil looks at the ball and twirls it between his fingers.
"Lame." I mutter under my breath and in the corner of his lips he cracks a small, amused smile.
"Says the guy who stole my bed sheets because mine 'matched your aesthetic.'"
"Watch it." I glare at Phil and he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "And they do match my aesthetic. Death and pain."
"Wow, tell me more Sebastian." Phil snorts and I fix him with my worst glare.
"You know. It isn't that hard to be nice."
"Yeah, but it's lamer."
And with that he's gone, crumbs scattered across the couch where he sat and the bags crinkling as he made his way up the steps.
I stretch out my back muscles and yawn nosily. God, a day doesn't go by when I'm not exhausted. I'm kind of disappointing myself. Back at home I was up just as the sun set and now I watch the sun rise with Lyda every morning.
It's probably the jet lag. With so much going on I never properly slept it off and now that's coming back to bite me in the ass.
At least the sunrise is pretty.
I open my laptop again and groan at the idea of doing. Damn Phil ruining my burst of creativity. My eyes settle on the screen again, they are walking through the woods. No surprise there. But now they seemed to have acquired a bird friend. A blue jay that talks, to be precise.
With a minuscule glance to my laptop I exit out of Photoshop and close the lid. Doing things can wait until tomorrow. Besides, I'd liked to be juiced up for the conversation with my parents later on.
-~-
Evan is truly my knight in shining armor, he has been talking me through things and saving my ass more times than I can count. I met Evan during my settling in stage here when I googled "exchange student" on Tumblr, clicked the first blog that came up, and began to drown it in questions.
For example, I asked "what the hell do you do when you have learned the Metric System your whole life and now everything is flip flopped?" and he'd tell me to calm down. Spilling half a box of detergent on the floor isn't that bad of a thing.
From then on I've been basically a reoccurring presence in his inbox and when I told him I was going to stay only a semester he pleaded me to stay longer so we can meet up. I'm still on the rocks with that one. Honestly, a year with Phil sounds like too much, just a short little semester is fine.
Of course the exams screwed me up. My entire family had to work changing and plotting everything so I was able to take it online in London.
I will probably say this a thousand more times in the future but I think if it weren't for Evan I would have already had seventeen emotional breakdowns and killed Phil.
Like right now we're knee deep in a conversation about host families.
Evan claims his are the worst, with a toddler keeping everyone up half the night and a hormonal 12 year old to boot.
I haven't even cracked open my bottle of 'Phil,' I didn't even think it was possible to be worse than a toddler and 12 year old combined.
"Not to mention everyone is cranky in the mornings and I have to wake up early for extra courses and drive Melody to school. It's a sick form of torture I tell you." Evan finishes his mini rant and fixes some objects in the corner of his screen. We started Skyping a few days ago and I like the change from text to person. Being able to see Evan's mind work as he choose carefully what he would say next.
"Oh hun. Don't get me started." I warn and Evan glares at me, he hates people calling him 'hun.'
"Phil can't be that bad. He's all grown."
I give my best. 'Bitch just wait' face and settle into my uncomfortable wooden chair I'll use until I can get to the store and buy a comfy chair.
"He drinks and he's always angry and he eats everything and he is such a bastard I swear to god I fucking hate him he's such a-"
"Okay okay. Calm down. It's like getting a new sibling. Oh wait, you're the baby of the family right."
"Don't see what that has to do with it."
"So yes. Anyway, the Phil, you are the youngest. The child taking his attention away. He needs to get used to you. Remember there are a broad amount of things you can do to make you like him."
I groan before the pun even begins. After so many quick paced puns you get used to knowing exactly when it'll happen. Evan always gets that shit eating grin and a downright evil glint in his eye.
"I hate you." I glare and he only laughs.
"I know."
There's a crash behind me and I know in an instant who it is. Phil must be home from his latest party, drunk no doubt.
"Phil?"
"You know it." I sigh. "Fuck my life."
"Seriously. He'll grow out of it. He's a big boy."
"Whatever." I turn towards the door and hear a crash just outside it. "He's going to kill himself someday."
"Well we are all dying."
"Don't remind me."
A bang comes from my door and I jump a foot. Electricity flowing through my fingers and my hand pressed to my heart.
"I've got to get him to bed and shit. Same time tomorrow?"
"You know it." Evan smiles and gives me a little wave.
"Bye." I say and click the red telephone as more sounds and curses sound from behind me.
I walk out of my room and find Phil sprawled out on the floor. Arms full of different types of beer, cheeks red, and eyes waxy.
"Hu Dun's back!" He grins like I'm the most important person in the world.
Too drunk Phil I am an entire different person. He sees me as a nurse or helper here to tuck him in.
I mean, it could be worse, he could see me as a murderer or something horrid like that.
Phil's arm stick out towards me, letting the bottles roll over the wooden floor.
"Hey Phil. How are we doing?"
"Good! I threw up." Phil claims and I internally groan.
"Oh, that's great." I say with a mock smile and pull Phil to his feet.
He sways instantly and stumbles backwards to hit his door.
"Whoa, when did that get there?" His hand brushed down the wood.
"Phil. Are you tired."
Phil's face scrunched up and he stared at the wall for a couple minutes. "Yes?"
"Good enough for me. Come on." I take a step forward and gently take hold of Phil's elbow.
"Dan?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think Lyda loves me?"
I freeze, my hand on the doorknob and my eyes widening. Behind me Phil has grown quiet and his free hand grabs my wrist.
"I'm sure she does. She's your guardian."
"I guess." Then Phil's arm starts to shake and he sucks in a deep breath.
Oh my god he's crying.
I push the door open and gently sit Phil down on the bed. "Why are we crying?"I ask to get him to talk about it and Phil falls on his back, his shirt riding up and for some reason the patch of skin makes me blush, hard.
"I don't think she cares all that much about me. I mean, I can't blame her. I am a pretty useless person."
I click under my breath, about to say something else when Phil's eyes train directly into mine.
Now, there are many a ways one person can look at another, glances, gazes, sharp looks, happy looks but this look was different.
He was challenging me to say something. He was looking for a fight and for since I'm the only person around, he settled on me.
angry drunk.
And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse.
"Sleep Philly. I'll get you some water," I pick up Phil's Buzz Lightyear cup from his counter - I only had a small smirk from it - and went to Phil it in the bathroom.
This is an odd feeling. I haven't slept alone in my house for, what? Two? Three years. Now here I am, sleeping in a strangers home with only their borderline psychopathic drunk son to keep my company.
Not to mention I'm deathly afraid of the dark.
Yes, this will be great fun.
Maybe I should call Evan before I sleep so he can tell me what the hell happens in the morning when nobody is there to get hungover Phil his Shreddies and a glass of orange juice.
Hungover Phil, I shiver at the mere thought and bring the half full cup to Phil's room. Only to find him fast asleep on his stomach and his arms splayed across both side's of the bed. Most of his hair is covering his face and from what I can see his mouth is wide open, a strip of drool connecting his lips to the pillow.
I giggle to myself and set the cup down. "Night Phil."
He mutters and his eyesbrows squish together, giving him an angry look.
I stifle a laugh and softly close the door behind me.
Phil may eat all the food and be downright horrid to me sometimes. But at least he's cute when he's asleep.
-~-
-~-
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH\
guess who posted on time? this b*tch right here posted on time (dont know if thats a bad word or not. oops)
anyway hows life? is everyone back in hell now (except for you australian bastards, damn you)
honestly ive already cried over homework. whatever. i think, i may be losing my mind.
ive made new friends! yay! im in the cool kid club 5 ever.
HAPPY BDAY DIL <33333333333333333333333333 IM A PROUD GRANDMOTHER
also my big bang fic is up October 16 (mark your LIMITED TIME ONLY DAN AND PHIL ORIGINAL CALENDAR kids) and it is extremly good but may unfocus me from my work.
ALSO 70,000 READS WOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Credence, credence, credence. My love and my hate. My sky and ravine. My dark and my light.
Yeah, that's finished off in October just in time for the new sex story yas biatch.
i think thats all i have to say. i changed my URL to creativity-at-best because... aesthetic. i guess.
anyway see you next Wednesday (Thursday) (Next Year) kittens.
(kittens? is kittens a good nickname. want to be named something else? leave a comment here!)
(also hey sun( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)