Apologies (A Phanfiction )

Chapter 6

After an hour of filming for Pj's channel along with another hour for a video on Phil's channel, we stopped to take a break. I went off to the bathroom whilst Pj and Phil went to get drinks from the kitchen. I splashed some water on my face and dried it before walking out of the bathroom. As I was walking towards the kitchen I heard something hit the ground. They probably dropped something. I walked into the kitchen and I don't think I could ever forget what I saw. Pj and Phil were laying on the floor, Phil on top of Pj, their lips touching. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. Phil pushed himself off of Pj in panic and jolted up on his feet. "Dan I-" I held my hand up to stop him. Pj stood up slowly, looking completely terrified. "We didn't m-" I shot a mean glance at him at he stopped talking. Sure they probably didn't mean to do that, but my mind told me otherwise. "Dan listen to me," Phil walked towards me. I didn't want to make a big deal out of this so I let him. "I slipped in my socks and Pj tried to catch me, but he slipped and hit his head on the counter which bounced his head up and our lips touched. It meant nothing, Dan. I promise," Phil looked on the verge of tears.

I sighed and nodded, turning around to face the front door. "Dan, don't go," Pj pleaded. I didn't look back at them. I just calmly left his flat, walking down the stairs. I passed by Chris as I was walking down the street. "Oh hey, Dan. Wait. Are you crying?" He asked, completely concerned. I looked at him and back at the ground, "Ask Pj." Chris looked at me, trying to grab my arm to stop me, but I yanked my arm away. "Dan wai- Phil?" I started walking faster when I heard him saying Phil's name. "Dan please. Let's talk about this," Phil chased after me, making me start sprinting. I passed around a corner and into the park. Stop overreacting, Dan. You're being dramatic. I slunk down into a park bench and stared at the sky. It looked dark and gloomy, like it was about to rain. I hit myself in the head, "Idiot." My phone buzzed, but I didn't check it. It buzzed again and again. I just need some time to myself and then I'll answer him.

"Sir? Are you alright?" A voice that sounded so quiet, asked, pulling me out of my sleep. I looked at the person who had just woke me. It was a woman, probably in her late forties, sporting blonde hair and a large coat over what looked like a black dress. "I couldn't help, but notice that you were crying," she mentioned politely as she sat down next to me on the park bench. I wiped my eyes, in case I actually was crying. "Oh, thank you, but I'm fine," I smiled slightly at her. She placed her hands neatly on her lap, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened?" I debated on telling her or not, but seeing as she had an American accent and she was probably just visiting, I decided to tell her. She sat still the whole time I was explaining, not looking away at all. By the time I was done explaining, I had started to tear up and she was rubbing my arm to try and comfort me. Normally, this kind of social interaction would bother me, but she just gave off some sort of mother-like vibe that made me feel comfort. "That Phil boy you're talking about sounds odd, but I don't think he meant to kiss that other guy on purpose. You should talk to him, Dan. I'm sure he would like that," the woman, who I still did not know the name off, told me. I nodded, "I think I will talk to him. Thank you um- What was your name?" She smiled, "Maryam." I smiled back, "Thank you, Maryam. I'll see you around," I stood up and waved goodbye to Maryam as she wished me luck.

Things never go as planned, though. As I was walking back to Phil and I's shared flat, hoping he would be home, something horrible happened. I had my hands stuffed in my pockets to keep them warm. My face down, so the chilly breeze didn't freeze my eyes. I stopped near a coffee shop and walked inside, happy to feel the warmth. I took out my phone and listened to the voicemails Phil left me. All of them were him apologizing, but one caught my ear. I just about dropped my phone onto the bloody floor as I listened to the latest message. I shot up out of my seat, rushing back to our flat. I ran, faster than I ever have and will ever run. I had to get back to Phil. I had to apologize before it was too late. I made it to the building, banging on the door because I had given my key to Phil. He didn't answer. I reached under the mat, finding our spare key, and pushing it into the lock. I flung the door open with all my might and rushed around the flat calling Phil's name. I was relieved to find him on the floor in my room, but my relief soon left as I saw him passed out, holding two bottles of Scotch.