Three weeks into January and Phil Lester still was taking no notice of me, so as I said, the only solution was to visit him. I still had his application forum in my office file, as I did for all my employees.
Phil and I needed to talk. We needed to talk about re-employment and I suppose I needed to conjure up somewhat of an apology. Truly, I did want to apologise but I did not know how to. Nothing that fell from my own very lips was anywhere near genuine enough. Phil deserved a genuine apology but that was something I could not give to him.
There was something I could give him though which applied: flowers.
Without a moment's hesitation I strode out of my office, pushing past Kendall down the stairs blanked PJ as he called after me in the lobby and felt like the only thing that mattered were those flowers.
Blue flowers, blue flowers, blue flowers. Flowers, flowers, flowe-Rain!
My mind suddenly went blank as I felt rain droplets hit the bridge of my nose. I stopped still in the middle of the pavements. Ever so slightly panicked, I turned around to face the direction of where my office once was but didn't realise how far away I actually walked, my mind so busy thinking about Phil's blue flowers I didn't notice how busy my legs were too. I couldn't turn back to grab an umbrella now so, I pushed up my blazer's sleeves and started to run. Running was not something I did very often and certainly did not do it for fun AND certainly not for fun in a designer suit.
People looked at me as if I was a maniac but I mean hey, I did look like one.
My shoes rubbed against my heels and my blazer restricted my arm movements so I whipped it off, carrying it in my arms instead. I began to run faster, skidding at a sharp corner, my arms flailing and my leg cocking up as I slowed down before continuing. I kept running until the small peeling-yellow-painted shop was in sight, dashing across the road causing multiple cars to honk at me but I didn't care one bit.
Blue flowers, blue flowers, blue flowers. Flowers, flowers, shop, shop. Yellow shop, yellow shop.
I pushed that yellow door wide open and fuck, I was determined to get the perfect bunch of blue flowers for that blue eyed boy. I looked around and there were you average plain old pinks and yellows and honestly, they looked crap. I wanted blue.
I went over to the small counter and nobody was behind it?
For all they know I could be a flower freak and rob them of all their crappy flowers. I doubt they have security tags it's only a small shop so hey, I could rob them of their flowers and give Phil all the flowers here but I won't but I so could.
''Hello? Is anybody here, you really should not leave this place unattended.'' I cleared my throat and a small elderly woman came from behind the counter with a little smile on her face.
''Awh, dearie. Don't worry nobody robs a florist, how can I help you?''
I scoffed at her, ''How do you know that? Someone could rob you.''
She stood still with the fakest grin I have ever seen ''Because, sir, nobody robs a florist.''
''I could've robbed you.''
''Are you telling me you are going to rob me?''
''No. Do you have any blue flowers?''
And I left that shop as soon as I got my flowers and god that woman was the worst old lady ever. She kept giving me cheap ugly looking flowers or yellow flowers or bluebells or flowers that quite clearly were not blue. If I wanted purple or sangria flowers I would have said so. The best thing I could get my hands on was a pot of forget-me-nots. Ideally, I wanted a bouquet but never mind.
It was still raining when I left that stupid shop but I decided that I had had enough running for one day. Phil didn't live on the kind of street I had expected, I knew the street name but I had never been down it. I had been near it when picking Phil up for France but never down it. It was narrow and just rows of tall white buildings with little metal balconies and many fire escape stairs that looked rather unsteady, there was minimal traffic but all the street bustle echoed down here instead. It was pretty though.
Having to walk up and down the street I finally found Phil's apartment number, soaking wet with hair in threat to curl. I pressed the buzzer waiting for a response and a crackly voice came through the speakers, ''Hello, who's this?'' There was a pause, shit why didn't I say my name. ''Erm, hello? Sorry if you're trying to sell something I'm not buying sorry and-''
''I'm selling you your job back, if that interests you.''
There was another long pause before the door was released. I went in and up one cornered flight of stairs the door was already open and in the door frame was a tired looking Phil with a Star Wars mug in hand. He had his glasses on too. I reached the door and he just stood silently, his fringe matted. I cleared my throat looking at the plant pot of forget-me-nots in hand. ''Why do you think I would want my job back to be your unvalued employee?''
It was a surprise to get that greeting I was expecting at least a hello, maybe a good morning or something along these lines. ''You were valued.''
''Excuse my language but, Howell, you treated me like utter shit.'' Phil spat backing sightly into his home.
Suppose I couldn't argue, so for once I kept my mouth shut and just stuck my hands forward holding the pot. Phil didn't move at all. So I stepped closer, ''This is for you, blue flowers...in a pot.''
Phil stepped aside for me to come in and in all honesty I was pretty nervous but obviously nothing showed.
The apartment matched Phil so perfectly, relatively tidy with splashes of just geek.
Walking into his home was a narrow hallway that lead straight down into a small open plan lounge, flowing into kitchen. There was only two little doors which obviously lead to Phil's room and a bathroom. On the side wall, surrounded with an abundance of plants was a glass door to lead onto a mini-balcony.
I remembered him saying once that he had only just moved in and I could tell, but he had been here for a few months at this point so it was kind of concerning that it was not up to scratch unless he just doesn't keep his home personal. Sure, there was little plushies and odd trinkets hanging around here, there and everywhere but not one thing was personal. Even some boxes were still packed up in the corners.
''Your flat is nice.'' I nodded looking at him as he stood in the middle of the room just sipping out of mug, expressionlessly staring.
Phil wasn't very welcoming and clearly I was not wanted. ''It's small but hey it's where I live.'' His voice was flat, eyes just boring into me. Oh god, he thinks I'm taking the piss.
''I wasn't judging you at all by the way if that is how it has come across'' I threw my hands up, ''I was merely observing.''
''Well what have you observed then?'' He walked into the kitchen area, placing his mug down. I took a few steps forward into the living room, sighing and skimming the room again quickly.
''You seem to enjoy the more, well, geek side to media and I already knew that from your sonic boxers from back when we first properly met.'' I smiled slightly, looking down at the pot in my hands. ''You are tidy but maybe it is just simply down to the fact you have a small living space. The plants are well looked after, so you are some what caring and I have seen your sensitive side for sure. Your flat isn't very personal though, is this your first home?''
possible trigger warning idk ??
Phil came towards me taking the flowers from my hand and putting them down with the other selection of plants. ''No this is my third. You can sit and stuff... if you want, I mean you can stand but you don't have to.'' He placed himself down on the sofa and I joined him, intrigued by Phil once again.
''Your third home but you're still unpacked and there's no personal, well, anything?''
''Why are you so nosey?''
''Like I said, observations Phil. Observations.''
And at that very moment Phil Lester looked as if he wanted throw me off his balcony, his head twisted fully to glare at me. I cleared my throat, wanting to investigate him further. '' Mr. Kendall was telling me you have been avoiding much contact with him, why is that?''
''I don't need a life councillor.'' With that Phil pulled himself up and went back to the door, swinging it wide open. ''Get out of my house.''
''Why were you with Adrian then?'' I pushed further.
''Get out, Howell.''
I smirked, ''Okay then, why are you such a sensitive sap?''I settled comfier back into the sofa.
''Get out.''
''I mean, you always cry. Over everything?''
Phil gritted his teeth tightly, ''Howell, leave now.''
''What? Can you not manage your own emotions?''
He didn't say a word.
I stood up rather abruptly with my own voice rising, ''You can not just expect your feelings to disappear Phil. Life doesn't run like that, things don't go away for fuck sake. Take whatever it is that is making you this-this dejected and fight it! Stop crying Phil, it only gives you a headache.''
Not a single thing altered in Phil, it was as if every word just melted into the atmosphere.
''What were you a messed up kid? Got some illness? How about, oh here is a good one. Are you some survivor of a horrific accident, no? Oh, what about your cat dying. Phil, did you cat die?'' When I look back on this, winding him up in such a harsh way was not a good decision. ''Was your cat the one who committed suicide because, sorry for your loss. Pray for Brenda!'' I laughed sadistically.
I slowly came closer with every word I spoke until I was nothing but a few centimetres away but his face stayed staring at the general direction of the sofa.
''Ah what about... your parents? Something happen to them? Oh a love interest has fucked you up like this.'' With this, Phil's head cracked around to meet mine and our eyes were locked and he was full of a pure burning rage and god, I could not help myself.
''Bingo.'' I chuckled bitterly, ''Did they cheat on you or shove you around because I'm stuck between the two.'' Phil's face began to twist. ''Even better they di-''
Phil interrupted me with a grating yell, clearly before I could finish my word. ''Shut up!''
''Dead? Your love interest died. Got it, shall I start guessing the death because you kno-'' Before I could say another word my back was crashing against a bookshelf and Phil was screaming, quite literally screaming, at me to get out. His books surrounding me, some laying on my lap open.
Psshh, what's his problem?
===
Two weeks into February and Phil Lester still hated my guts, so, the only solution was Mr.Kendall.
I was not particularly close to Mr.Kendall, but who was? To the exception of PJ , nobody really knew Mr.Kendall very well. He would just drag himself around the work place in a dull sulk then do one spontaneous energetic act then go back to being purely mundane. His attitude could drain a man.
Mr.Kendall was the only way I could get into Phil's mind so I called him into my office to do me a rather large favour and Mr.Kendall being Mr.Kendall would not refuse. I asked him to spend the evening with Phil just to get his opinion on me. Childish? I know. Complete school girl? I know.
Sure, he complained because he had plans as it was valentines day but honestly I was not too bothered. If the plans were that important he would have refused to meet Phil but he didn't, he agreed with only a few minutes hesitation.
I spent the night sitting in my office, letting the night waste away into the earlier hours, at my desk working on new projects. Picking swatches, colour co-ordinates and designs to match the upcoming summer. Last minute jobs and cramming was not unusual here even though every other fashion based business plans their year but not in my office. Last minute planning and what feels right for the time goes here, honestly I feel that is what makes us successful. Who wants to plan their entire year when I can not even plan my week or day let alone year.
The hours kept on wasting away without any warning. A collection of colours melted together outside the large window, causing a distraction. Light magentas, gentle terracotta, and abundance of oranges on a bottom coat of blue hues fading down into the cityscape. Swirling in together, melting over one another relaxing my eyes into sleep.
Waking up was not as peaceful as falling asleep, I was woken by a lethargic PJ making me jolt up as he stood beside my desk all of his limbs looking heavy. ''Sir? Did you fall asleep at your desk again 'cos y'know that's not really healthy?'' I looked over him for a few seconds in a squint before dropping my head onto my desk. He collected all my designs up, sighing, ''I'll take these over to design, hm?'' I didn't give much response just a grunt and more than likely a snore as I drifted back into sleep.
When I woke up for the second time it was much brighter and there was not as much of a shock just a small note, crumpled and creased with scruffy writing strewn across it.
why phil lester hates you:
youre arrogant
youre rude
you treat everyone like shit
youre harsh
he thinks you have no backbone
you pretend to be professional when really you are just a kid
he doesnt like your cologne
youre pretty
you fucked graceffa
youre indecisive
you dont appreciate chris when he works his ass off for you
you make him cry
your brother is a control freak too, he thinks it hereditary but your brother has good intentions
youre a pretty good richard, an asshole.
( please dont fire me these are phils words thanks )
by chris.
After a few minutes decoding the words and letting it sink in, I had even more questions for Phil. The insults and rude remarks I had had before so that did not even phase me but no backbone? What the fuck does that mean? What's so bad about my cologne, I thought it was decent. Then my mind went back to Graceffa, once again it is none of his business and that is not a reason to hate somebody. Wait Wait, I'm not professional? Um what does he even know about professional, I do my job and that is more than I can say for him in some cases. Then off my mind went again, Adrian. Chris. Adrian. Pole dancing- oh sweet jesus. Chris working, that's a thing? Adrian Adrian. whywhywhywhyGraceffawhywhywhywait.
Phil thinks I'm pretty?
===
PARIS, FRANCE. LA TERMOILLE, ROOM 2022.
''That hurt, Joey. It hurt a lot.''
My back was bare and flat on the naked mattress, sheet clinging onto the bottom corners. Sides sore, eyes stinging and dignity undone. A warm hand touched me, giving me shivers. It moved along my face, brushing gently over my cheeks and skimmed along my neck. Sliding down my chest, it moved and gripped at certain parts of my abdomen, swivelling slowly around my navel. I recoiled from the touch when it lowered to rest on my upper thigh, sliding down between my legs. "Shhhh, it's okay. It's okay , I didn't mean to hurt you." I craned my neck around to look away from his face, which was hovering above me, to the side.
His lips touched my jaw, making my eyes clench shut and he soon moved off when he saw.
The mattress lifted as he took his weight away, getting onto his feet. It was silent, the only sounds of rustling clothes and a few breaths every so often. I turned my head back to the ceiling, opening my eyes. At the bottom of my vision line I could see him walking around, collecting his things and my chest seemed to tighten. Seconds ticked on by before I heard the door unlock.
''Before you go, please turn the big light out.''
Then it was dark.
===
Weeks went by but they felt like hours, cramming, panicking and touring London for more photogenic spots. I refused to hire any new models and if I didn't get Phil back I would have to just put PJ in.
I needed Phil as my model. He was so inimitable and pretty. There was not much else to say about him other than pretty and for me, pretty is a very strong word. To accomplish what it is to be pretty, you have to have something special about you. It cannot simply be your face or hair; it has to be you to fit my definition. All completely you. Your words, mannerisms, distinct features and the ability to not be another body just managing to push its way around life. Pretty people seem to light up the room when they come in, their voice can just repair your mood. Pretty is a trait and a very admirable one. One in which Phil owned on a diverse scale to the vain, scrawny faces that just bore into my camera lenses. Not another voice that just ricochets around the halls or a restaurant, a voice of the lead singer in a bustling chorus.
I admit Phil is pretty and he thinks I am also pretty, which is nice but I don't think it is the same description of pretty as I have set for him.
After hours of designing, redesigning and creating, we finally hit the streets to find the perfect spots. PJ brought one of his small cameras and we roamed down the main streets, down side alleys, into small shops and around a few car parks. There were not many places that stood out besides a few vintage diners and record shops. We thought it would be best to take a break and have some lunch in a small coffee shop near the main streets. We looked through some of the photos and PJ was talking away in his arty way that I did not understand but what he was saying was probably valid, he knows what he is on about. He suddenly stopped talking about photos and started talking about Mr.Kendall. ''You know that Chris works hard right? Really really hard.'' He looked slightly upset with me.
''Why is it that everyone is just constantly upset with me?'' I groaned, taking a sip of coffee.
PJ was hesitant to answer but spoke nevertheless, ''You aren't the most pleasant of fellows, Dan. This is me saying this to you as a somewhat friend, you need to be nicer to people. More sympathetic, empathetic.'' I was dismissive of it and continued to look over the photos that I had already seen. ''Dan, take this on board for even just a minute. You need to look at things in a new light, you're slightly spoilt and you know it. See, like what happened with Phil. He told me. It was nice of you to show up with flowers as an apology but interrogating him on his personal life and insulting him in such a disgusting way isn't okay. No wonder why he rejected the offer. Take life into a better perspective Dan before you're left all alone.''
His words left me slightly choked up because I knew it was true, I tried to not let it come across but I suppose he could see. ''I think perception is important too. You need an insight on people.''
''Change perspective before you find a perception, as you are hunting all wrong my friend.''
We sat silently with one another, I ended up zoning out at the window, watching all the people pass on by. Watching traffic, watching people walk by, watching Phil pass by on his bike and-Wait.
''Dan?! Where are you going?''
I didn't give myself another second, rushing straight out onto the street. Seeing Phil quite a bit ahead.
Back to where I started, running in my designer suit.
---
haha, after that long ass wait you got p much nothing.
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