(Phan) The Angel With A Black Heart.

Prologue: Loner

You don't know me. I'm the person you'd picture and think to yourself, Why does he even matter? Is he really that conniving? So depressing? So... So... Terrible? Yes, I'm indeed that guy. My name is Daniel James Howell. I'm not popular, I don't have many friends. Mainly because I'm so terrifying. I'm pretty intimidating to look at. I have dark, sharp eyes.. Tattoos of awful representation.. Hair so dark, it almost looks as if it was artificially colored. I listen to Metal Rap music and Rock. I listen to varies of Hollywood Undead, Panic! At the Disco, My Chemical Romance, Green Day, and others in which disappeared from my mind. I am articulate and well mannered, but I'm not kind. I have a heart as dark as my jeans, which are very dark I should mention.

Anyways, I'm started university today. It feels so good getting out of this nut-house we call an educational program, or at least school. I'm tired of dealing with people. Why do they have to be so.. Obnoxious? But what I'm most excited about, which I don't show, is getting out of my house. I'm getting a dorm just to escape my parents. Their the meanest of all parents. I know, others may have it worse, but I despise my parents deeply. They believe I'm an emo-bad-boy. Which yes, I am, but I don't want people to think that of me. You have no idea how many fights I've got in all through my 13 years of school. Okay, I must finish my packing, so I can get out of this shithole.

But where's your heart? But where's your heart?

The boy groans, hearing my emo band playing.
"You don't look as the type to listen to My Chemical Romance." The boy says.
"If you have a fucking problem with that, I'll dump your ass out the car onto your fucking shitter." I snap at the boy.
"I'm sorry, no more. No more comments, I swear." The boy says nervously.
"How about, no more speaking, period? I hate the piercing sound of your annoying voice, boy." I say baring my teeth.
"You're not the kindest, I presume." The boy says, frowning.
"What did I fucking say." I say, softly warning him.
He nods.
I turn the music up louder.
He bites his lip, trying not to speak, as I could assume because he keeps looking at me.

When I was, a young boy, my father took me into the city, to see a marching band..
I turn it up all the way, full blast, making my car vibrate as the bass plays loudly.
"We'll carry on!
We'll carry on!" I sing loudly.
The boy giggles, I ignore.
"And though your dead and gone,
Believe me, your memory,
We'll carry on!
We'll carry on!" I continue singing, half looking at the boy, giggling at me, glaring at the teenager.
"Stop laughing at me." I say angrily, turning the volume on my radio down.
"I'm sorry." The boy, apologizes still giggling.
"You keep fucking doing it!"
"You tend to curse a lot."
"Yes, indeed, sherlock."
"Wow."
"We're almost at the fucking ER, so shut the fuck up."
"If you don't mind me asking, how long do we have until we get there?"
I groan in annoyance, "Thirty. Hush." I say angrily huffing at the boy.
"Thirty WHAT?"
"MINUTES! GOD DAMN IT!"
I turn the music back up, continuing to ignore the annoying boy.
He continues to speak a lot until we get there.
"Hey, what's your name? I want to know, just to make conversation."
When. Will. This. Boy. Take. A. Hint.?
"Okay.. Erm.. My name is Phil." The boy claims.
"I could not care less about what your name is." I snap, clenching myself onto the steering wheel.
"Why did you invite me along if you don't want to speak to me?"
"I was just being nice, for once, you were in the road, so I drug you in my car, now I must take you to the hospital." I say baring my teeth angrily.
He nods, sadly.
"My kindness is a privilege. Choose to accept it or I swear to god I won't hesitate to destroy you both internally and externally." I snap, half looking at the now frightened boy.
He nods obediently.
"We're here." I say firmly, parking my car.
He simply smiles softly, struggling to step out of the car.
I cringe as he moans and groans in pain, trying to move.
"Man, whatever you said your name is, your hurt, I must help." I say huffing.
"Thanks.." The boy mumbles.
"Don't fucking talk to me." I snap, dragging his body out of the vehicle.
I put his arm around my shoulders, dragging him to the hospital.

Because they sleep with a gun, they keep an eye on you son,
I hear when I start my car.
"'Cause the drugs never work. They'll just give you a smirk,-"
I'm interrupted by the blood stained onto his light brown, cloth, passenger's seat.
I roll my eyes, thinking of the annoying boy.
"God. He interrupted my entire fucking journey. Now, I might be late." I say, angrily taking a sharp turn.
"At least now I'm at my university.." I say, angrily parking my car.
As I walk into the school, I hear whispers about me.
You see that boy? Oh my god, he's so scary.. Avoid him, he'll eat you alive..
I ignore and give a look of confidence and intimidation.

I rest into my dorm. It's unlike my bedroom at home. My bedroom is dirty, worn out. The walls are peeling as if they're rotting oranges being pinched and pulled. The ceilings have more cracks the the naked eye could comprehend. I feel safe here. In a clean, alone environment. No parents. No people.
Ring ring
"What the fuck? Who's calling me?" I say angrily.
"The stupid ass hospital?" I huff.
"What?" I answer with a sigh.
"Hello, are you Daniel Howell?"
"Sure, why."
"I just want to update you on Phil Lester."
"Who the hell is Lester?"
"The boy you brought in."
Phil.. Lester?? The.. YouTuber?
"Uhm, yeah.. What's-what's up?" I stammer.
"He's recovering quite well. You may need to pick him up from here tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Really?" I groan.
"Yes, indeed." The woman claims.
"Whatever." I groan, hanging up.

Phil.. Lester? I've heard of that YouTuber! I mean, I've never watched his videos, but I hear he's good!
"Dan.." A male says, coming into the room.
"What the hell is your concern.?" I say firmly.
"M-my name is.. Uhm.. Thomas.. I'm your.. Roommate..?" The male stammers.
"Roommate? Dear God! Just, don't touch my shit and don't talk to me and we'll be cool." I say angrily.
"But-" Thomas says.
"BUT? BUT WHAT??" I yell, biting onto my tongue ring.
"But..-"
"JUST SHUT UP." I say in annoyance, slapping him in the face.
He goes onto his side of the room.
Who's this Phil?
I get my black laptop, topped with stickers of bands I like, and type http://www.YouTube.com
Then I search:
Phil Lester
Huh.
AmazingPhil..?