Colorful | Phan | Completed

16%

My dad had a strange business, and to this day I have no idea what he truly did. My mom used to say he was a cheat, a liar, a con man, and horrible person. But he wasn't a horrible father.

When I was 10, my father went to three different countries in the same year. He brought me back things from Italy, Japan, and Canada.

I saw him for a week one or two times every month, so everything I knew about him was from my mom. There were days she hated him, and I would hear the bad stories, or days where she'd miss him so much she could only remember the good times.

My favorite story to hear was how they met. My father was an artist, like me. I guess he taught me, but I'm the one who maneuvers the paint brush and I'm the one who decided what to paint. Well, he was an artist, and figuring the kind of person he was, he asked my mother if he could paint her portrait.

She said no the first few times, but he had the audacity to continue asking her. Eventually, she accepted. When my mom's feeling sad, she'll hang the picture above her dresser.

My mom would tell me stories that I would have to tell Adrian. I'd only tell him about the goodness in our father's heart. I loved my brother, but we never really talked anymore. He confines himself in his room, and only comes out for dinner and school.

Right now, my father was in Australia. Or at least, that's what I told Phil. I had no idea where he was, or if he were even coming back again.

Reason number 16 not to fall in love with Phil Lester, he didn't believe in an eye for an eye. I had told Phil about my father, and not even PJ knew the whole story.

Phil told me that he loved his parents. He told me how his dad was a carpenter and his mother worked at an office. He did no mention of the bad times, didn't talk about anything that Anthony told me the rumors said.

"My dad isn't an artist, but one time he did make me a rocking horse." Phil said as we sat out front of his house. Our bodies sat next to each other on the sidewalk, and our feet were planted firmly on the road.

"Oh." Was all I could say.

"Dan..." Phil looked over at me. I looked at him. "Sometimes you make me so... Red."

"Angry? Why?"

"You didn't have to make up the fake story. I was fine with taking the blame." He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't just gonna let you not be able to graduate!"

"I can take care of myself, thanks." He exclaimed, watching the a line of three cars rush past us.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Let's go inside?" Phil asked, but stood up quickly.

"If you're mad at me then I'm allowed to be mad at you!" I fought back, standing up to match his height.

"For what?"

"I poured my heart and soul into telling you about my dad.. And all I get from you is he was a 'nice guy'?"

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, raising his arms in confusion.

"I want you to tell me the truth!" I raised my voice. "There's rumors going around the school that you're abused!"

Phil's face completely fell. "What?"

"A-are you abused?"

Phil shook his head, taking a step back from me. "I never was and I never will be."

My eyebrows knitted together. "I-I'm sorry."

Phil nodded slightly. "I'll.. Uh... I'll see you around, Dan."

"Don't leave." I pleaded, my voice becoming very shallow and weak.

"I'll text you later."

A/N Here's a sad chapter for Dan's birthday.. I can't believe Daniel James Howell is 25 like I want to jump out of a window they are growing up so fast! Love y'all and have a good day!