Transatlantic||phan (COMPLETE)

Three

Phil

Phil was terribly uncomfortable. His parents had left the table to dance and his brother had left the party early due to sea sickness. Now Phil was stuck sitting alone with nothing to do and, to make matters worse, he had lost sight of where the brown eyed boy had gone.

Phil stood up from his seat and walked over to a waiter, who was holding a plate of assorted sweets. He took a few and made his escape from the party. He wandered to the front of the ship deck, which was far enough from the party to be completely empty, but close enough to still hear the faint sounds of laughter and music. The night air was cold. Phil downed his last sweet and rubbed his hands together for warmth.

He looked out at the Atlantic Ocean from the railing. Just a few more days and this would all be over. The parties, the clothing, the fancy amenities, it all seemed like a dream, but this was a dream that could not last. Once in America, Phil would work with his father and uncle and he probably would never experience anything like this ever again. He would work, find a wife, have children, grandchildren, and hopefully live to an old age. He would earn enough to get by and make sure his family would never go hungry. That's what was expected of him at least.

Phil had bigger dreams than this of course, he always did. As a child, Phil wanted to be a stage actor, but lately, he was also growing an interest for film. He imagined directing, filming, or acting on stage; anything like that would really be great. He could just imagine his name in big letters on theaters all over the world. The critics would call him "Amazing Phil" because he would just be that good. People would stand in line for hours just to meet him and his movies would have worldwide success. He would change the world. He didn't want a normal life; that was just Phil's dream.

A sudden gust of the cold night air interrupted Phil's thoughts and he tucked his hands in his pockets for warmth. The faint sounds of music danced with the whistling of the wind, giving the night air just enough warmth to be bearable.

"Cold night, huh?"

Phil jumped, simultaneously clutching his chest and tripping over nothing. The owner of the mysterious voice wrapped his arms around Phil's waist just as he was about to fall sideways over the railing.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" The mystery-man quickly apologized and released Phil.

Phil turned to look at the stranger that had nearly caused his death and gulped. It was the brown-eyed boy. Of course, Phil thought, of course I would make a fool of myself in front of him. Great first impression, Phil. Wait, why did it matter?

"I-it's fine," Phil stuttered, either from the cold or his heart rate. Most likely the latter...

The stranger nodded and looked down at his shoes. Phil took this moment to catch his breath and study the boy. He was a bit taller than Phil, and maybe 3 or 4 years younger. The boy's haircut was similar to Phil's even when curled. He could tell this boy was wealthy from his rosy cheeks down to his spotless leather shoes, he was well taken care of.

There was a short silence before he looked up at Phil with those soft brown eyes and spoke up again. "Can we maybe... start this introduction over?"

Phil gave him a warm smile and nodded.

"My name's Dan Howell." The boy, Dan, held out his hand and smiled, making Phil nearly fall over the railing again. This boy had dimples. Everything about him was soft and squishy and warm.

Phil steadied himself and shook Dan's hand "I'm Phil Lester."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Phil Lester."