Borrowed Wings (Phan fiction)

Chapter one

[Warnings mentioned in this chapter: Swear words, angsty, unsupportive parents, gay slurs and insults, alcoholism, prostitution, and slow suicide attempt.]

The sweaty nights were usual for Daniel Howell.

A 19 year old who sells his precious body for his rent, necessities and alcohol.

He was the popular slut underneath the strobe lights flashing in different colors. He'd press his body against interested men, eyeing them flirtatiously and seductively.

No desperate bastards would decline a boy who'd make them come back repetitively just to fuck over his body.

The clients were new at first, but after their night with Dan, they returned just to see that boy. Dan Kitten was the stage name men would remember.

However, neither of the nights appeal to Dan. It was his only choice. The only payment he'd accept for his tight, shabby apartment. The only payment that helps afford him a few cheap alcohol to intoxicate him from the terrible nightlife.

Poor Dan Howell, he loathes himself to the point where alcohol is the only way he can take his life away.

He was afraid to die, yet he didn't want to live at the same time. The alcohol he chugs failed to help pull him away from reality. It just never leaves his sorrowful mind.

"Daniel James fuckin' Howell." The man, who happens to be Dan's landlord disturbed him as he abused the wooden front door, chipping away old paint with his sharp ring.

Dan forces himself to get off his bathtub, where he was sleeping. He quickly dresses himself before he reached the door. He didn't have to look through the hole as he recognized the landlord.

Dan took a while to unlock his door, then swung the door open, revealing his distraught face to the furious landlord, who seemed not to bother about Dan's circumstances.

"Where is your payment?" The landlord asked, gritting his teeth as he glared.

"I'll get it to you when I have enough-"

"Excuses!" The landlord cut him off. "If I don't receive any payment within the next 2 weeks, you're out!" He exaggerated at the out part, then stormed off to the staircase, muttering insults that Dan couldn't hear.

Dan shuts the door, then leaned against it, slowly slipping down till his bottom reaches the floor. It was uncomfortable as his back sores from sleeping from his bathtub.

His bed was only used for his nasty job. He couldn't stand waking up on it and remind him how pathetic and slutty he was.

Having sex every night and then drinking away to forget the night. It was a routine for him.

Food? He buys unhealthy junk food when he desires and sometimes microwaveable food since stove wasn't present in his apartment. They were cheaper than those common cafes he wishes to eat.

Dan's dull eyes glanced over the faded paint ceiling that nobody cared to paint over. His phone rang like the usual. He didn't move a single limb. He listened to the ringing tone calling for him to pick up.

The ringing stopped, which leads to the voicemail. "Hey Dan, it's me Luke." it was his manager in the club. "There's no client for tonight because I moved them all to some boys who deserves the chance, but on the other hand, come by, alright? We're going to have a blast. Get drunk! Get wild! Haha, see you there, Danny boy. "

Dan sat on his position idle for a while, then pushes himself to get up. He went into his common bathtub and stripped off his clothes, throwing it on the sink where a few clothes were left unwashed.

He turned on the shower, groaning as the lukewarm water hits his back and runs down to his spine.

The last time he owned a shampoo and a soap was when he lived with his parents. He was kicked out of the house based on his sexuality-Bisexual. Actually, he wasn't kicked out. He felt his parents made him move out, but all he did was write a letter, pack things up and left.

The only accessories that was placed in his bathtub was cheap, empty alcohol bottles. The collection Dan counts how many he can consume before his last sip. So far, only 7 and still living.

Dan set off from the bathroom, soaking since he didn't own a towel himself. He picked his clothes that looked clean and has less stench on it. He sniffed his clothing one by one and pick the best one.

Dan went out, with a few cash in his pocket and the remaining ones in his drawer. He walked, the only way to reach to his workplace in hell.

He took the shortcut, where he was greeted with alley cats and mockers shouting insults as he passed by every other day.

"Hey faggot! Going to the STD club like the usual?" One of the mockers spat. Dan ignored them, picking up his pace to avoid their disgusting insults.

Dan spotted Luke, the manager outside, waving at him to hurry. Dan rushed, not looking both ways before crossing the road, even though it was empty.

"Hey Dan." Luke grinned and pat his back. "How did the client go last night?" He asked, motioning him to sit on the nearest bar table.

"He was a little rough, but I'm okay with it." Said Dan as he recalled. He didn't like it. The client was manipulative. He forced a deep throat and would belt him if Dan wouldn't call him daddy from time to time.

He was belted, a couple of times. He wasn't perfect. He was so petrified, which made him forget how to respond correctly to the client.

"Well, no clients for today. But I'll pay you extra." Luke pulled out his wallet and rummage to pick out a stash of cash stacked together in a rubber band.

"Luke, you don't have to do this." Dan declined, although he desperately wanted the money.

"Your landlord was a bitch. I could hear him while I was going to work. Thought you need a little fun for tonight." He vigorously pushed the money towards Dan's palm.

"Drinks are on me." Luke grinned.

~

The strobing lights flickered underneath intoxicated Dan. He grind and tangled against the sweaty bodies of the people he will not see once again.

The airy smell and haze of alcohol with the mixture of sweat has calm him down. All the thoughts of his despair somewhat no longer existed.

All Dan remembered was the blurry and wavy vision and his uncontrollable dancing. The alcoholic drink that was right in the palm of his hand. The stash of cash that was shoved inside his boxers in case some asshole mugged him.

Next thing he knew was the blaring bass in the speakers were absent. No sweaty body colliding to him. No scent of alcohol.

Dan was somewhere in bed. Not his own. Awoken by the white sound of the fan blowing towards his face.

The bedroom wasn't anything like Dan's. A room filled with posters and fun decorations lying around the clean room. A room with freshly new paint and heavenly scented raspberries lurking around.

He clutched his hand. No alcohol bottle. He patted his pants where he kept the cash. Still there. But, how did he ended up in a mysterious bedroom from the crowded club he can't escape?

*a/n: Hello! This is my first and serious Phan fiction I've written. This story was based on a fan made movie trailer by Sumirai. Check it out -> http://youtu.be/yuRC_rvI5ys

The summary was a replica of the description in Sumirai's video because I wrote it. Thank you for choosing it! I feel honored.

The title Borrowed Wings was a metaphor in one of Ed Sheeran's song, The A Team. It has angel in it and I thought it'll suit the story.

The other Phan fiction I have written was deleted. I am not looking forward to continue it.

Please tell me what you think of the story! I'd love to see some reviews. :3