One Life (Phan)

10 (Phil)

Soft voices hold a conversation.

"Troye, you need to come back." (Tyler?)

"I can't. Phil doesn't have anyone. Dan is ignoring him for some reason. I think they got in a fight or something."

(Is that why he's gone? Is that why he won't come back?)

"You barely got any sleep, and you look terrible. He's sleeping anyway. You need to go out and do something. I'll take you out to lunch. Okay?" The voice is definitely Tyler.

"But--"

I heard a rustle. "There's no buts. Let's go."

Troye sighs, and I identify his voice to the left of me. He scoots his chair back reluctantly, and Tyler leads Troye out of my room.

(Dearest Phil Dearest Phil Dearest)

I open my eyes, and find that I'm alone. The hospital is lively now, I hear patients and nurses conversing and the shuffle of quiet footsteps. But my room seems to be heavy with silence.

I miss Troye immediately, but I know that he needed to leave. When I had slipped into a nightmarish sleep, Troye was still by my side. When I'd woken up, screaming, Troye managed to calm me before the nurses even came in.

I was thankful for that, but when he thought I was asleep, he would let his guard down, and I'd see his tired eyes, his sickly grey skin, and shaky hands. I'd never seen him 

(Phil Dearest Phil)

eat anything. He looked like he could be sick at any moment.

A shift in the curtains catches my attention. A pretty nurse came in, the same one that came when I'd woken up screaming. She was carrying a tray of rubbery eggs, burnt toast and brightly colored orange juice.

"You're awake, sleepy head! Here's your breakfast," she says cheerfully, dumping the tray of unfavorable contents into my lap. I smile obligingly, but shake my head.

"I'm not really hungry."

"Well, you need to eat. You need your strength," the nurse maintains her cheeriness. 

I'm too drained to try and argue. I grip the sides of the tray with both of my hands. I feel my smile drop as she exits the room.

---

"Hey."

I stop poking around at the eggs that went cold fifteen minutes ago. I look up, and see PJ poking his head from the corner of the privacy curtains. He seems in better shape than Troye was; his hair is wet from a shower, and his eyes still hold that liveliness. 

He glances at my plate and back up at me. He smiles, then grabs Troye's seat. He pulls it closer to my bed and sits. "How're you?"

I try to smile, but instead a flash of pain hits me like a wall of bricks. I break down.

Peej looks surprised for a second, but then puts his arm around my shoulders. We stay in that position for a while, until I calm down, and the pain dies to a dull throb.

I pull away from him and stare at the burnt toast. I feel PJ's hot stare on the side of my head.

"Phil..."

"I'm fine," I croak out, searching for a lie. "I just... it's hard without Dan here." That wasn't a lie, was it? No, it wasn't lying, it just wasn't telling the whole truth.

PJ's gaze softened. "We tried--"

"Yeah, I know," I say, wiping my nose with my wrist. "You tried to call him but he wouldn't pick up. I just wish he would come back."

He nodded. "I'm sorry to push the subject, but... do you know where he is?"

(Dead, he's dead Dearest Phil gone and dead)

"I... I don't know," I said truthfully. 

Peej pursed his lips. "But, Phil, why did he leave?"

My stomach clenched. "What?"

PJ gave me a look. "Dan never goes anywhere without his phone, unless he ran away or something. Did you guys get in a fight?"

No. "Well... kinda," What the heck are you doing? More lies?

PJ looked at me, not surprised. "How bad was it?"

It's all a lie, Dan left me because he thought no one would understand his crippling unhappiness. But he made me happy. Peej, Dan made me happy!

"I... I guess it was bad," I tried to look embarrassed, thought I probably just looked like I was in pain.

"Oh, Phil..." PJ put his arm around my shoulder, but I didn't lean into his touch like I did earlier. "It'll get better Phil. I promise."

Will it?

---

"Okay, here's your clothes. The bathroom is down the hall, the last on on the right."

"Thanks."

I awkwardly grab the clothes from the nurse. She smiles, flashing white teeth. I try to smile back, but it probably looks more like a grimace. 

I make my way to the bathroom, my uncomfortable hospital gown flicking the back of my calves. I quickly enter the bathroom and shut the door.

I look down at the mess I have in my hands. My shirt looks relativly clean, but it's wrinkled. My jeans are just as deformed. It looked like someone washed them, when crumpled them in a ball together and left it there for days.

I sigh and search for my boxers. I quickly strip down and slip them on, then my pants over them. I pulled my shirt over my head and glanced at myself in the mirror. I nearly double-take.

The hopeless boy that stares back at me is broken. His eyes are ruined, and pained. They're surrounded by dark, dark circles as well. His face is a sickly grey. I turn away in disgust. What have you done to me, Daniel?