I waited anxiously outside of PJ's hospital room. A doctor came out and I stood up.

"How do you know this man?"

"He's my ex. Why? Is something wrong?"

"Wait- Dan?" The man asked. I nodded. "He says your name a lot in his sleep. All of them are nightmares. Kid's a mess," he told me. I chewed at my lip. "You do know that PJ isn't allowed to leave the hospital? It's dangerous for him- we only let him because well. . . he's running out of time. I can't let you visit him tonight."

"Can you at least tell me how he's doing?"

"The cancer has spread. It's gone up to stage four lung cancer."

My eyes widened. "H-how long does he have left then?"

"A week at the most. He won't last till Christmas."

That's his favorite holiday. I fidgeted with my hands, avoiding the man's gaze.

"I'm very sorry- we can give you a call when visiting hours are available?"

"That'd be great, thank you."

"He really loves you, you know that?"

I nodded, unable to respond. I quickly gave him my number and got a taxi home, going inside and calling Troye.

"Can you come over?"

"Is everything okay?"

I shook my head as silent tears streamed down my face. "No."

"I'll be over in ten. Connor's coming too." Then the Aussie hung up, leaving me in silence. I lay on my couch, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of Phil.

A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts and I sat up, looking out the peephole to see Troye and Connor standing outside my door. I let them in and they sat down, looking up at me worriedly.

"What happened? Where's Phil?" Connor asked.

"We had sex," I blurted. Troye looked over at Connor and elbowed him in the side. Connor exhaled and took out ten bucks from his wallet, handing it to Troye. Troye smirked and snatched it from him, pecking him on the cheek. I raised an eyebrow at them.

"We made a bet. No big deal," Troye replied sheepishly. I rolled my eyes.

"Well that night I saw PJ, and he said all this stuff about how he still loved me and how he felt bad for lying to me. So PJ decided to bring his ass, uninvited, over to my dorm. It ticked Phil off and he left, not even bothering to let me explain. He hasn't talked to me since. Then after Phil left, PJ passed out after coughing up blood and now he's only got a week left to live with stage four lung cancer."

Troye and Connor's jaws were dropped by the time I was done.

"Your life sucks." Connor blinked. I groaned, running my hands over my face.

"No shit."

Troye was silent before speaking up. "Phil isn't mad at you," I furrowed my eyebrows at him, confused. He exhaled. "There's a difference between being hurt and mad, Dan. He's hurt. Sex is a big deal to some people. He's just one of those people. It's obvious he likes you-"

"Woah woah woah, what? That night was just lust, that doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe it wasn't like that to him," Connor pointed out.

"As I was saying," Troye glared playfully at his boyfriend before looking back up at me. "He doesn't think you care. The fact that you didn't really tell him what happened with PJ has him convinced you're just using him to turn your emotions on and then you'll have PJ. Phil needs to know that you care, Dan. He's crazy for you, so quit being so oblivious."

I sighed, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "You really think so?"

He nodded. "Now that I helped you with your problem, I was wondering if you could help us with ours?" Troye asked.  I raised an eyebrow at him. "We need your help to turn Tyler's emotions back on."

"Troye, I can't do that-"

"At least try. Please," Connor cut me off, his eyes softening and his hand gripping Troye's tighter.

"I'll try sometime this week, it'll take time for my emotions to turn on. Turns out I waited too long and now I have to turn on every single one of them myself."

Troye bit his lip, smiling softly at me. "You can do it." I nodded sadly. After that Troye and Connor left after hugging me and I paced my room a couple times, thinking.

What should I say to Phil? Yell at him? Text him? Call him? Go to his house?

I sighed. Sadness, love, anger, joy, happiness, and guilt. That's all the emotions I had left to switch.

I had already turned on sadness long ago, I switched on lust and fear. Five left. I can do this. Right?

Maybe I should talk to Chris.

I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. He answered right away.

"Dan? Is that you?"

I smiled slightly. "Yeah it is. Hi, Chris."

He chuckled. "Hey, what's up? How are you? Is PJ okay?"

"I'm doing fine. I've got my emotions off, long story, but they're coming back slowly. About PJ, he passed out after coughing up blood and his cancer has risen to stage four. He's only got a week left or so left- he won't stay alive for Christmas."

"Oh god," Chris sniffled. "I should visit."

"Where are you?"

"I moved to Brooklyn. It's not too far but it's far enough."

I nodded. "Do you think I could come visit? I need somebody to rant to."

"Of course, buddy. You can visit me any time, in fact I've been thinking about moving back. Do you think I could stay with you in your dorm for awhile until I get a place of my own?"

"Sure. See you soon, Chris."

"See you soon, Dan."

I ended the call and slipped on my pullover, locking up and heading downstairs to my car. I got in and blasted my Crown the Empire album.

I had been driving for about twenty minutes now. It was pouring down rain and dark outside, as it was now almost midnight. On the way there, I let my mind take over.

I thought of blue eyes.

I thought of black hair.

I thought of colorful clothing and attitude.

I thought of Phil. Oh no, Phil. He was all alone. He needed me. God, I needed him too.

Suddenly I found myself swerving to the side and cars honked as I made a quick U-turn to the other lane. Drivers honked.

"Don't give up on me yet, Phil, okay?" I whispered to myself as I sped down the rainy freeway.

I called Chris and explained before hanging up. I drove all the way back to that stupid old apartment and ran to Phil's dorm.

I stood outside his door, biting my lip. He probably hates me. I played with his feelings, I treated him like dirt, I left him alone when he needed me most- Jesus Christ I'm a terrible person.

Then I felt it. Another emotion.

Guilt.

I felt guilt because Phil was a great person, a great friend- a great best friend. He stood by me and cared when I didn't. He saved me from prison, he carried me to get help, taking me out to dinner- he did all these things for me and I haven't done one single thing. This is the least I could do for now.

I didn't notice I was crying until I took a sharp intake of breath and felt a tear roll down my cheek. I exhaled, wiping away my tears and raising my fist against the door ready to knock.

I can do this.

My hand shook as I held the edges of my sweater in my fist, chewing on my lip.

Then, I did the unthinkable.

I knocked.