Phil joined the end of the line, averting his eyes so as not to see what was at the front.
He loosely clutched the single black rose, so different from the bouquets of bright, colorful flowers brought by the other guests. Phil cried internally, knowing Dan would have hated all the colors he was being buried with.
He stepped further into the line, now close enough to see the coffin, but not what was in it.
Good, Phil thought. I don't need to be any more emotional than I already am.
Phil moved even closer, attempting to avoid looking in the coffin. But, once he finally gave in and looked, his eyes swelled with tears and he couldn't pull his gaze away.
There was too much makeup on him. He was too pale, nothing like the gorgeous, tan boy Phil knew. He was wearing a suit, something Phil knew he hated. They should have buried him in his horn hoodie; at least he would have been comfortable that way. His fringe was done the wrong way, making it resemble Phil's, and much too light brown. But, worst of all, Phil couldn't see his eyes. He knew if he saw his eyes he would break down and he would never recover from the heartbreak, but, right then, Phil needed to be comforted by the brown eyes that had done so many times before.
Glancing around, Phil carefully and quickly swept his hair to the correct side. Phil's cringed, the hair was hard and dry with hairspray, nothing at all like the soft and smooth he had known. He made a sour face as he rubbed his fingers together, spreading the liquid-like hair dye across his hand.
Slowly, Phil reached into the coffin to hold the hand that, at one time, had been so comforting.
God, it felt like a lifetime ago.
He gripped the hand but was not pleased by it the way he once had been. It was cold, pale, and limp. The hands he used to hold were warm and tan and constantly moving as they told a story.
Lifeless.
It was in that moment that Phil knew he would never be getting his best friend back.
Phil pulled his hand away and left the pale boy's facing up in the coffin. He placed the single black rose atop the bouquets of lively flowers.
Pulling out a small photograph of Dan and Phil laughing with cat whiskers drawn on their faces, Phil whispered, "Goodbye, Dan. I love you."
Tearing up and not being able to say any more, Phil dropped the picture in Dan's upward facing palm, and walked away. As the picture came to rest in Dan's hand, it flipped over so the image was resting on Dan's skin. Written neatly on the back of the photo were eight words:
This was the most fun I've ever had.
Word count: 481
