Phan One Shots

The Weeks Leading Up to the Hunger Games With a Very Nice Stylist (Do it for me)

A/N: I was literally up until 4 am writing this; I wanted to go to bed but I knew I would lose my inspiration in the morning. *sigh* it's hard being an impatient writer. I have to get it all done in one sitting or not at all. Sorry if the ending seems rushed, like I said it was 4 am. I really like this one, though, and I hope you do too. I know I usually don't post until the afternoon, but I just had to. Good day to you!

Disclaimer: I do not in any way pretend this is real and I do not own Dan and Phil.

"Daniel Howell"

Dan's head pounded, his breathing quickened, and beads of sweat formed on his skin. Time seemed to slow, he could feel every gasp of the people nearest him and hear their footsteps as they backed away. He could hear his heartbeat thumping faster. His mind stopped. He couldn't process what was happening, he didn't understand. He felt himself walking numbly forward, the bodies of the other teens jostling to make way for him. He could see their pity, their relief that they were safe.

Dan felt as if he were in a dream. He said goodbye to his family, told them he would fight for them. He didn't cry. It wasn't because of strength, but because (...he was crafting! Jk jk) of the horrible numb that filled his mind. Everything seemed as if he wasn't really there, as if he was watching through someone else's eyes.

Once Dan boarded the train, he locked himself in his quarters. The bed was king sized and so soft you could drown, covered in a black duvet and throw. The pillows were silk and the frame was mahogany. The rest of the room was just as posh. They were on a train, for gods sake!

He sat on the edge of his bed.

That was when all the emotions came crashing down. Disbelief. Anger. Confusion. Sadness. Fear. Loneliness. Then, he cried.

He cried because he was the one tribute out of so many others, picked to go to what was surely his death. Dan wasn't particularly strong, or fast, or clever, or good at anything. Simply a mediocre 16 year old.

Dan cried because there was a 99% he would never see has family again. They weren't much, just a normal district five family unit. But they were all he had.

Dan cried because he was in the hunger games.

-

Dan opened the door, frustrated. Couldn't they just leave him alone? The whole train ride he had attempted to sleep, but due to frequent knocks on the door asking if he wanted one thing or another, or if he would come and meet his mentors, he had been unsuccessful. Now, they had just gotten to the tribute center and Dan had very recently managed to get comfortable in the enormous bed they provided when a loud knock had interrupted him.

Outside his door stood the girl tribute who had been picked before him. He didn't even know her name; he hadn't been paying attention. She invited him to dinner and Dan slammed the door in her face, effectively informing her that he was not, in fact, hungry.

Dan grumbled annoyedly as he sat back down on his bed. On his bedside table, he noticed a remote. He picked it up, finding he could change the wall screen to whatever he wanted. He ended up scrolling through to a beautiful view of district four and the endless glittering water.

Dan had never been to district four, which was a bit strange considering he lived so close. However, every day since his mother had described it to him as a child, he had wanted to visit. The endless shimmering water, the reeds and the sandy beaches. Maybe he even wanted to live there. Dan thought fishing sounded a lot more interesting than working in an oil rig, anyway. He laughed bitterly at the thought. District five. Oil.

Dan lay down on the huge bed (which was much like the one on the train), staring up at the ceiling. He was just starting to drift into dreamland when another loud knock came at his door. He answered it reluctantly, letting out an annoyed curse as he stood up.