Dan is running out of time, he can feel it, see it, sense it.

Despite his newfound friendship with Phil, Dan can't help but notice how Phil continues to deflate, lose his brightness. Phil seems to be slipping through his fingers, his will to live evading Dan's grasp like mist.

Dan sighs deeply, re-evaluating the past week inside his head; Phil and him were friendly, conversing in the limited list of classes they share. From what Dan gathered, they seemed to enjoy the same things, but as Phil acted so completely and utterly fine, Dan almost couldn't stand it.

He just wanted to scream.

He knew all of Phil's laughs were fake, his smiles were fake, everything about Phil now was so FAKE. The artificial mask of a personality Phil has created remains perfectly intact, despite the crumbling wearer.

Dan isn't even sure why this bothers him so much, but there's just something about the fact that Phil has accepted the fact that he's about to kill himself. He no longer wants to fight it, instead, he just seems to fight to spread his light, that's what hits Dan the most, angers him almost.

Everyone adores Phil; he could have almost the perfect life if he wanted to. Yet he wants to throw it all away, tear everyone around him to shreds as they wonder what they did wrong and not even give them a chance to help him. And here he is, adding to his casualties with his smile and friendliness and spreading of joy. Is he even aware he's just ultimately spreading sadness?

And as no one else can see the broken boy behind all the light, the weight rests upon Dan's shoulders. But he can't even help himself, how can he possibly save someone else?

"Hey Dan, you okay there?" Phil asks, waving his hand in front of Dan as he sits beside him on the bench.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Dan replies, forcing a smile as 'on the edge of suicide' twits the knife impaled in his heart, the words taunting him almost, "I was just thinking."

"What about?" Phil asks, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing him suspiciously, "you looked like the wall just killed your dog. You almost set fire to it with gaze alone."

"Nope, old age killed my dog," Dan replies, immediately regretting it and wincing as he looks sideways to see Phil's smile falter.

"Oh, sorry. I uh, so, what have you got next?" Phil asks, guilt growing and festering inside of Dan as Phil's voice loses some of it's previous happiness.

"I got um, math," Dan mumbles, awkwardness settling over them both, "so uh, how are you?"

"I'm good, great actually," Phil replies with a wide smile, his voice bright once again.

Lies, lies, lies. Is everything you say to me in our whole friendship going to be a fucking lie? Dan wishes he could shout at Phil, grab his shoulders and shake him in hopes to resurface some will to live. But obviously, he doesn't. Instead, Dan looks at Phil thoughtfully, carefully choosing his words.

"You don't always be great y'know," Dan says, "not to be a mood killer, but that's not how being human works. Unless you're a robot or something. Just because everyone expects it of you, doesn't mean you need to be."

Phil looks surprised for an instant, and almost touched? His expression and fake smile soften and he smiles at Dan, sadness seemingly taking ahold of his features as the mask weakens.

"Definitely not a robot," Phil says jokingly, shaking his head slightly, "but thanks. And I am great."

"Okay then," Dan replies, turning his eyes back to the wall and exhaling deeply.

Phil nods and reaches into his bag, pulling out a packet of chips (or crisps), tearing the packet open and shoving a handful in his mouth, crumbs clinging to his lips and chin or cascading down his shirt. He tilts the packet towards Dan, offering him some.

Dan gives him a slightly confused look but takes one nonetheless. His mouth fills with the salty yet slightly oily taste of chips (crisps) as he crunches.

"Crisps (chips) are always good for defusing tension or awkward moments," Phil says after a while, "that's why I carry them around."

"You seriously carry them around for whenever you're in an awkward spot with someone?" Dan asks, raising his eyebrow and looking at Phil doubtfully.

"Hey, and they're a great snack too," Phil says defensively, "good for any occasion."

"You're so weird," Dan says, shaking his head with a laugh.

"So what if I am? There's nothing wrong with weird."

"I never said it was bad," Dan reassures him, "I just never expected you to carry around snacks to break the ice."

"Well that just shows how cool I am," Phil says with a large grin, bumping Dan's shoulder gently with his own.

Dan nods, smiling back at Phil but there's still one piercing thought ringing through his mind. One that makes his heart ache as he closely watches Phil laugh, smile and joke - it all seems so real, yet it's not, leaving him to look at Phil and wonder,

how does this boy want to kill himself?