Depressed | Phan {EDITING}

twenty three

DAN

Why did I do that? Why did I spill my biggest secret to somebody I just met? I mean, one of my biggest secrets; I have four:

1. My father is (or was) abusive.

2. I'm bisexual.

3. I used to have a brother.

4. I was raped.

I've only ever (properly) told one of them to Phil and then I go and spill the biggest one to his mum? I'm so stupid. Phil's my best friend... Why didn't I just tell him? Wait, is he even my best friend? I've never had a best friend before... What if he already has a best friend? What if I've dragged him away from his social life just because of my stupid problems? I'm such a horrible person...

Although, my questions are quickly interrupted by the sound of Phil opening the door and quickly rushing over to me. "You look traumatised... Are you okay?" Phil says, looking concerned and holding my face in his hands.

"Y-Yeah... I'm fine," I mumble, pushing him away and wiping the tears from my eyes.

"I'm so sorry about my mum... She can be a bit intimidating sometimes," he smiles, meekly, "What did she say to you?"

Suddenly I burst, just like I did downstairs. "I told her, Phil!" I cry, "I told her my fourth secret. My biggest one."

"Did you not want to?" he asks, holding my face again.

"I didn't want to tell anybody... That was the plan. I wasn't going to tell anybody my  four big secrets. Then, as soon as I told you number one, things started going from there..."

"I'm so sorry, Dan..."

"It isn't your fault... I trusted you with it and I still trust you. I feel like I should tell you number four... After all, your mum already knows," I sigh, looking down at my hands.

He sits down on his bed, right next to me and puts an arm around me. "You don't have to tell me, Dan. It's fine. I don't mind."

"N-No... I want to. I want you to know all of them, actually. I just... I just don't know how to say it," I stutter out, tears still streaming down my cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay. Um... Why don't you write them down?" he says, passing me his notebook and a pencil, from his bedside table.

"O-Okay..." I mumble, taking them from him, "But first, c-can I ask you something?"

"Sure, whatever you want," he says, placing his hand on my cheek and wiping away the tears.

"D-Do you have, like, a-a best friend? Or s-s-something..."

"I mean, I have you?" he smiles.

"Oh... B-But before I came?"

"Well, there was Chris and PJ but we were never really proper friends... I've never really had proper friends, to be perfectly honest."

"I-I'm sorry... If it makes you feel any better,  n-neither have I."

"Hey, it's okay. We have each other!" he says, bringing me into a hug.

"I r-really like you, Phil... So, please don't let what I'm going t-to tell you change your view of me..." I say, nervously.

"Of course not, Dan. I really like you too."

I pick up the pencil and open the notebook, my hands shaking. Phil holds onto my right hand, the one that isn't writing, to calm me down.

As I start to write, I feel my heart beating faster and more tears starting to fall down my face.

1. (It's okay, Dan. Calm down. He knows this one already.) My father is (or was) abusive.

He takes a short intake of breath as I write number one; as though he's being reminded of what happened.

2. (I've never fully admitted this one, but it's not like I'm hiding it.) I'm bisexual.

When I write number two, his mood lightens a bit and he kisses me on the side of my head.

3. (Come on, this one isn't even that bad when you don't know the rest, Dan. Then again, I've never told anybody about him.) I used to have a brother.

His grip on my shoulder tightens a bit as he reads number three. The confused look on his face proves that he doesn't really know what I'm talking about. Good. I don't plan on going into detail with that one anytime soon.

4. (It's the big one. You can't back out now, Dan.) I was raped.

Suddenly, as soon as I finished the sentence, everything changes. Phil quickly takes his arm away from my shoulder and he moves away from me on the bed. "Oh my god, Dan... I'm so sorry," he says to me, giving me a sympathetic look.

"W-Why did you m-move away f-from me?" I stutter, "Do y-you think I h-have a d-disease or something?"

"No, of course not. I just don't want to hurt you," he says, softly.

"It's no different to when I hadn't told you! I'm the same person!" I exclaim, angrily.

"But, Dan I-"

"No! You said you wouldn't treat me differently! I trusted you! I'm not fragile or broken or anything like that! Just because I've been fucking raped, it doesn't mean that I can't ever be touched or I can't ever do anything in my life! I'm fine!" I shout.

Phil looks at me with wide eyes and I start to process what I just said.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shou-" I start, but I'm quickly interrupted.

"No. You have the right to shout at me. I promised that I wouldn't treat you differently and I am. I was being stupid, I'm sorry," Phil says, apologetically.

To prove my point (and his), I take a risky move and press my lips against his, pushing him down onto the bed.

He doesn't respond for a few seconds, before melting into my lips and kissing me back.

After about a minute of kissing, he quickly switches us around, pushing me down. As he does, we break apart and I smile up at him, "I really like you, Phil."

"I really like you too, Dan," he smiles back, before bringing me back into our make out session.