'"Cause I've spent the night dancing
I'm drunk, I suppose
If it looks like I'm laughing
I'm really just asking to leave"
***
"So you and Chris are the ones who started the band?" Audrey asked, leaning forwards across the table curiously. She had to speak loudly to be heard over the crowd that packed the food court, hundreds of conversations going on all at once. Phil shrugged from where he was sitting across from her.
"I mean, we were the first ones in it, yeah," he said, tapping his fingers against the table habitually. "Didn't really think of it as much of a band until Grayson joined."
He didn't know exactly how, but he'd ended up spending the afternoon third-wheeling with Audrey and Elliot at the mall. It was surprising, because he usually didn't like going to the mall at any given time, and he definitely didn't like watching his friend suck face with a girl in various shops, but he had nothing more entertaining to spend his time with.
And Audrey was really fucking interesting, despite all the jealousy-fueled spite that Gray held against her. Honestly, Phil had at first thought she was one of those groupies, who dated one of the band members just to get into concerts for free or whatever, but she was much more intelligent and open-minded than that. Which was a very good thing, in his opinion. She actually liked Elliot for him, unlike some of his past flings, and her love for their music was just a bonus.
"Grayson's the lead singer, right?" She asked. Phil hoped she never found out about Gray's blinded animosity towards her, because it would be really awkward for everyone. "He's really good, I love his vocal range, it's a fucking godsend."
Phil laughed and nodded; everyone loved Grayson's voice, it was sort of inevitable.
"Flirting with my girlfriend behind my back?"
Elliot sat next to Audrey with a mock angry glare at Phil that made him roll his eyes. They were cute together, but sometimes it was disgusting.
The couple started their own conversation, leaving Phil to his own devices, which was slightly counter-productive; they'd invited him, and now he was being ignored. Not that he minded, being in the middle of their vomit-worthy escapades sounded less than appealing.
They seemed pretty happy together, though they'd only been dating for a few weeks now. He sure as hell hoped him and Dan had never been this 'cuddly', but they genuinely liked each other, and that was good. Phil was glad at least one of his friends was happy.
After another few minutes of watching them canoodle so publicly and voraciously, Phil decided it would be better to leave them on their own. He liked hanging out with them, but there was only so much he could handle in one hour. They didn't protest his leaving.
He thought that would be the most eventful part of his day, but no such luck.
Dan was sitting on his front steps when he got home, curled in on himself in an effort to not get soaked by the rain, which was steadily getting worse. The hoodie he was wearing was already spotted with water, but it didn't seem to bother him much. He looked up at the sound of Phil's car door slamming, and stood to go and meet him.
"Hey," Phil said, not exactly sure why he's here, but not questioning it too much. Sure, it had been a short while since they'd seen each other, and maybe they're last encounter wasn't so friendly, but Phil was ready to move past it, and he was hoping that Dan was too. "You'll catch a cold or something, standing out in the rain like this."
Dan nodded with a strained smile. "Yeah, I just...you weren't here, so I waited. I wanted to talk to you."
"Okay," Phil moved past him, hoping to get out of the cold rain, at least. "You wanna come inside? Dry off and we can-"
"No, I think, um," Dan interrupted him, and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "I think it'd be better if we stayed out here."
Phil turned back to face him. Not that he didn't want to talk with him, he just didn't think this was the best setting for it. But Dan looked dead set on standing in the middle of his driveway and having this conversation. "Is everything alright?"
"I don't know," Dan said, staring down at his feet resolutely. "I've been thinking. About...a lot of things, but mostly about us." And God, that didn't sound concerning at all.
It started raining then, like some fucking greater omen from above that was saying this wasn't going to be a good conversation. Phil felt his chest tighten just the smallest bit, preparing for whatever it was that was coming.
"I think we should take a break."
There it was.
"A break, like..." Phil trailed off, but couldn't find a way to finish that sentence. There was only one you could finish that sentence, and it wasn't something he wanted to face right now, God please, not right now.
Dan looked up at him, his face an unreadable mask of indifference that made Phil sick. "A break like, between us. For a while. Until we-"
"No," Phil shook his head. "No, I thought we were okay, I thought...you were gonna give me some time."
"It's not about that," Dan said sadly, like Phil was being desperate and clingy, and hell maybe he was, but he had a reason. He didn't want to lose this. "Phil, you know things haven't been great between us recently. We've been fighting, and ignoring each other-"
"And I'm sorry, but," Phil ran a hand through his hair, "don't do this because of that. We can fix it, we always do."
"No, and that's the point. We don't ever fix it," Dan said exasperatedly. "We ignore it, and we kiss and make up, but it doesn't go away. And every time it happens, every time we fight or get angry with each other, it just adds on to whatever bullshit was happening before. And it's too much for us to handle now, and I can't do this anymore. I won't let you distract me and keep me from being happy."
"You weren't happy before?"
"God, Phil, don't make me say it." And finally, Phil sees him break down, tears trekking down his cheeks and mixing with the rain that's already there. He dragged his hand across his face. "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want with us, but...I need to think about myself too, you know?"
And yeah, he did know, but that didn't make it any easier for him to deal with. "So what now?"
Dan laughed once, but there's no humor in it. "Now, I think I should leave, before things get too awkward."
He gave Phil one last sympathetic look before walking past him towards the road, where his car was parked. Phil didn't turn to watch him leave, because his chest was still aching, like someone had punched a hole through it, and that would probably make it worse. He heads to front door of his house, ready to crawl into bed immediately. All of his energy had suddenly disappeared.
"Phil," Dan said from behind him, and he couldn't resist turning around at his voice. He's standing there, uncaring of the rain that's soaking him thoroughly now, and staring at him. "This isn't forever, okay? We can...maybe one day, we can start over again. And not make the mistakes we did this time."
And all Phil could do was nod. Maybe they can.
***
He was sweaty and tired, and being jostled constantly in the crush of drunk college students was definitely not doing him any good.
They'd just finished their set, an entire hour of screaming into their microphones at the ballistic crowd who screamed back at them. They seemed to enjoy it, which was good, but also not very liable since most of them were completely out of it. Phil was tempted on heading there himself.
He'd had barely a day to recover from the atomic bomb that Dan had handed to him on Friday. Chris had been snapping at him about not focusing, but how was he supposed to? He had much bigger problems then they could understand, ones he would much rather deal with then practice for hours in that stuffy room with Chris's blind irritation and Grayson's endless moping and Elliot's hopeless heartsick drawling.
He shoved his way through a group of students, ignoring their calls of his rudeness, and headed to where the drinks were being poured.
He didn't drink. In all his life, he'd probably had a estimated total of one beer, all added up from the small sips he'd taken at parties. He didn't like getting drunk, didn't like the dissociated feeling it left him with, and he absolutely hated being hungover. But right now, he could use a distraction, to clear his head from the crazy mess that was raging like a storm. He'd deal with the consequences of it later.
"Wow, this is a new low for you, isn't it?"
Phil scowled at Elliot over the rim of his cup, wincing at the bitter taste of the beer, but swallowing it anyway. "What do you want?"
"Told you I wouldn't leave your side, didn't I?" Elliot shrugged. "No idea where Chris and Gray went, but I don't think I really want to know. Figured you'd be bored and lonely by yourself."
"I'm not really in the mood for company right now," he said. They'd started playing music, most likely from someone's phone, and it was starting to give him a headache. Or maybe that was just the alcohol, he wasn't exactly a heavyweight drinker.
"You don't look in the mood for anything," Elliot said unhelpfully. "Since when did you start drinking?"
"Since right now."
"Mhmm," Elliot grabbed the cup from his hand, took a sip, and handed it back. "Must have been some serious shit. Wanna talk about it?"
Phil laughed humorlessly. "Not particularly, no."
Elliot didn't know about him and Dan. Phil didn't think he'd actually care that much anyway; at this point, he was starting to realize that Chris was the only one who'd care about him dating Dan Howell, and it was entirely too late to do anything about that. But it wouldn't be much help telling Ellie all his problems now, would it?
"Suppressing it like that isn't gonna make it go away," Elliot continued to badger him. "I can-"
"I'm seriously fine," Phil scowled, pushing away from the counter he'd been leaning on. "And I don't want to talk about it."
He pushed his way back through the crowd, despite the heat that made his clothes stick to his skin and the occasional elbow that got thrown into his stomach. He'd take anything to avoid that uncomfortable moment with his band mate.
Five minutes later, he realized his cup was now empty, despite him not being able to recollect the memory of actually drinking it. But he shrugged it off and went to get another. Elliot was gratefully absent from the counter.
He was in the middle of an intense discussion with a group of Physics majors about the actual purpose of a selfie stick when he suddenly got a bit too lightheaded. He'd been leaning against a wall, but when he stood up straight, he almost fell on his face. Someone grabbed his bicep to keep him steady, and he tried to say thanks, but it most likely came out as incoherent yelling. He was much too hot now, he needed to get out of here.
It was a difficult feat, but he managed to find the door that led outside, and cold night air was like redemption after a long life of sinning. He stood and breathed in deeply for a moment, before deciding to just sit, leaning his back against the brick wall of the building he'd just left.
There weren't many people out here. It was a lot more quiet; he could hear the heavy thump of the music coming from inside and the hundreds of people all packed together, but it was muffled.
"Shit," he muttered to himself, rubbing his face roughly. He didn't feel so hot, but he was numb. That had been the goal.
And then suddenly, there was another warm body pressed against his side, and Grayson was laying his head across Phil's lap. "You're a hard motherfucker to find, you know that?" He said, his voice slurred to point that Phil almost didn't understand what he'd said.
"And why are you trying to find me?"
Gray sighed loudly. "Cause Chris is a fucking monarch, and Elliot's...well, he's Elliot. Don't feel like spending quality time with them, you know?"
He knew.
They sat like that for a while, saying nothing and not feeling bad about it. It wasn't awkward, it was actually quite comfortable.
"So, what's up with you?" Grayson asked, breaking the quiet between them rudely. Phil frowned. "Everyone's noticed it, man, you're the downer at this party. What, you and Howell having trouble in paradise?"
Phil hesitated. He hadn't voiced it out loud, even to himself, too scared to face the entire reality of the situation. But Elliot had been right before. He couldn't suppress it forever. "We broke up."
"Shit, that's..." Grayson said. "I'm sorry, that's really bad."
"Not your fault," Phil said, and shrugged. "It was long time coming, I suppose. We had...problems. I mean, you can't be in a secret relationship without problems. We had a lot."
"You know what?" Grayson declared, a defiant expression crossing his face that nearly made Phil start laughing. "Guys suck."
Phil did laugh that time, a raw, urgent sound that made his throat hurt. "Isn't that, like, indirectly shading yourself?"
Grayson thought about it for a second. "You know what I mean, like...guys you fall in love with. And they never know; or they do, and everything just falls apart in the worst way possible. They break your heart, whether on purpose or accidentally. They suck." Phil couldn't argue with that. Grayson sighed again. "God, I'm so drunk."
"That makes two of us," Phil said amusedly. He shook his leg, and Grayson grumbled at him. "Get off, you're making my thighs fall asleep."
Grayson sat up reluctantly and looked over at him. They were sitting close enough where it was almost uncomfortable, but neither moved. "You're a good friend, Phil."
Phil opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Grayson's lips pressed against his.
It wasn't neat. It wasn't soft or kind or even chaste. Grayson kissed him with everything he had, it was almost angry. Their teeth clashed and Phil bit Gray's bottom lip harshly, reaching up and tangling his fingers into his hair tightly.
Almost as soon as it happened, it was over. Gray pulled away sharply, staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Phil imagined he looked the same.
"That was unplanned," Grayson breathed out. "Sorry, that...that was emotional heat of the moment, I didn't mean to."
"It's fine," Phil said, shaking his head. "It's fine, I mean, we're both single, hormone-driven males. It happens sometimes."
Grayson nodded. "Yeah, it happens sometimes," he said. Paused. "Like right now?"
"Like right now," Phil agreed. Grayson clumsily straddled his lap and kissed him again.
***
a/n: ;)