Broken | Dan and Phil Fanfiction [COMPLETED]

Father

-Phil's POV-

I get into my car as soon as school lets out and decided to get something to eat. I start to drive to subway since that is where I've been eating for the past couple of weeks.
I go in and order my usual sub. It's pretty basic I guess, but I was never original.
I take my food back to my car since I really don't like people watching me eat. 

So there I sit, eating subway in my car and only thinking about one thing. 

Dan

How could I not think of him. He was gorgeous, and his personality was even better than his looks. Me and him were so alike. I know I'm probably over thinking this. He obviously only thinks of us as friends. He may not even see is as that. To be fair he has to know that I don't know anyone else yet, so he's taking pity on me. He might hate me? 
But,
There was a problem.
Dan was a man.
I mean I know I'm  bi. I've had more girlfriends than I'd like to say, but I've never technically dated a guy. I've slept around with them before but I've never thought about being in a committed relationship with them. It just didn't interest me. My father would honestly kill me if he ever found out that I was interested in guys.
My father...
"shit!"
I was supposed to be home right after school because he's making me clean the house.
I shove the rest of my sandwich into my mouth and take off down the road going well over the speed limit.
I reach my house and pull up the long drive way.
My house.
More like "My Office Building" it was so damn big. 

I lived in a mansion. It's three stories. We have a pool and a gym. And for what? I was an only child. We didn't need the space. My parents were just trying to let everybody in town know that they were rich.
And that's all they cared about.
Money
They barely even cared about their son.
Except for when they were angry with their own miserable lives. Then they decided to make mine miserable as well.
With a lot of money comes a lot of responsibility.
Responsibility that my parents didn't have.
About half the money went towards the house. The other half went towards alcohol.
Yeah.
That's me.
The rich kid with everything.
The kid that always had bruises from "getting hit with a tennis balls" or from "falling down my three flights of stairs." 
The kid everybody envied because I had money and I didn't have to worry about whether or not I was going to have dinner on the table that night.
The kid that got spoiled because he was an only child and didn't have to worry about siblings.
The kid that sometimes wishes he would drown in his own pool.
The kid that was always happy and cheery only to cover up the depression that was taking him over inside.
Yeah
I'm the perfect child.

I get up out of my car and slam the car door. I walk up the porch and through the door as quietly as I can.
I slip into the house and look both ways, checking for someone else.
Nobody.
Good.
I silently sprint towards the stairs and take two at a time until I reach the top, out of breathe, but unseen.
I walk down a hallway and turn to the right to reach my room.
It was the master bedroom on the second floor and yet I still kept it fairly clean and nice. My worst fear was letting it become like the rest of the house, disgusting and unorganized.
I placed my things in a chair in the corner of my room and flop down on my bed.
I close my eyes and start to relive the events of the day. All things considered, i figured my first day at a new school would've been worse. I must've fallen asleep because I wake up to a banging on my door.
My body jolts and I sit up on the bed.
"What!?" I yell from my bed

"You were supposed to clean the damn house!"
My father was a built man that had a husky voice from years of chain smoking. He was prideful, but not prideful enough to show me off as his son or to stay sober throughout the day.
"It's not my job to constantly clean up your messes!"
I love digging my own grave.
"Open this door right now!"

"You think I'm just gonna open the door for you asshole!?"

"Fine! I'll just go and get the keys smart ass!"

Sometimes I was a little bitch. Sometimes I wonder if I had just cleaned the house and done what I was told growing up then maybe me and my father would be best buds. Unlikely, but maybe.

I hear his footsteps fading in the distance. Definitely going to get the key to my room. I sit on the edge of my bed and prepare myself best as I can for the inevitable consequences.