"Oh my, don't they hate to see us try
Come on say what you think
It won't mean a thing
In the end we're gonna be just fine"

***

Wednesday arrived much more quickly than Phil was prepared for, and he found that he was (not for the first time in the last two days) having second thoughts. He'd been up all night, going through every possible scenario in his mind about things that could go wrong, each one so much worse than the last. He wasn't surprised when he looked in the mirror that morning and saw he looked paler than usual from lack of sleep.

But the nervous twist in his stomach and the fact that he was physically exhausted didn't deter the millions of excited nerves running through him. Tonight, they were playing the Blue Room.

They had a messy plan put together, that consisted of climbing out of windows or pretending they were at each other's houses, guesstimating when Chris's parents would be asleep, or at least far gone enough so that they wouldn't hear the four of them leaving. Chris had just gotten his car keys back, but he was willing to possibly get them taken away again just for this. He was definitely the most ambitious person Phil had ever met.

They'd played other gigs before, at parties and dive bars on the shady part of town. Last year, they had even been allowed to do a few songs for a dance at school, but had almost immediately been kicked offstage once Chris started yelling profanities at the crowd. But this was so different in so many ways, and Phil honestly still couldn't wrap his mind around the idea.

Of course, in the back of his mind, just behind all of that excitement and anxiousness, was confusion and worry about Dan.

The last Phil had seen of him was Sunday, after their semi-argument about hiding the fact that they were dating. He hadn't come to school on Monday, and Phil had caught only a glimpse of him once in the hallways yesterday before he had to go to class.

Were they taking a break? Phil was still so consumed with guilt at what had happened, and he couldn't even begin to think of a way to try and fix it. Apologizing just didn't seem good enough, not for this situation. But what else was he supposed to do; he had grown so used to having Dan whenever he wanted over the last year, and now that he was being deprived, he was starting to realize that he'd taken way too much advantage of him. Dan was there every single time, when Phil was sad or angry at his band mates or just horny, and Phil didn't feel like he gave enough in return. And forcing Dan to hide away from Phil's friends and family was just the final blow, it seemed, because Dan wouldn't even answer his texts. All because he was scared of people's reactions.

So all in all, Phil was just a mess of emotions that he didn't know how to handle all together at once.

His parents had already agreed to letting him stay over at Chris's house for the rest of the week, with him claiming it was for 'band emergency purposes'. They had never liked getting involved with anything that had to do with his music, so he was pretty much all ready to go, after swearing on his life they weren't going to any outrageous parties. He wondered when it had become so easy to lie to his parents.

"And you're sure you have everything?" Chris asked from the passenger seat of the car, typing God knows what into his phone. Phil refrained from growling in frustration; this was at least the seventh time he'd been asked that since they'd left.

"I'm one hundred percent sure that I have everything I need, could you please stop fussing so much. You sound like my mum."

"I just want to be sure we're completely ready for this." Chris said heartily, locking the phone and staring out the window, drumming his fingers against his thigh. "I don't wanna show up and look stupid because we forgot about something, no matter how small."

Understandable, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

When they had first met, Phil had spent a lot of time over at Chris's house. His parent were strict, but a bit more lenient when it came to giving their son privacy. It was a welcome relief to the usually suffocating hovering at his own home. And even now, he was glad about getting to spend a few days here, even if it did include sticking his neck out, going to bars and parties, with alcohol and people that weren't exactly civil.

They had a while before they would need to start getting ready to put their plan in action. The house was empty when they entered, with both parents still at work for the day, so Phil dropped his things into Chris's room and they proceeded to raid the kitchen.

"You're gonna be designated driver tonight, right?" Chris asked, cramming a forkful of cold Chinese noodles into his mouth at the same time. Phil raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on his nonexistent etiquette.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously. "I didn't know you guys were drinking tonight?" Chris swallowed his mouthful.

"Dude, we're playing at a club." His friend said, and then took another bite. "I'm'na ge' pissed."

Phil sighed solemnly. "And how do expect to do that? Being in high school still, and such?"

He instantly regretted asking that, because Chris smirked at him and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He dug through it for a moment before shoving a card into Phil's face triumphantly. It took a moment before he realized what it was.

"You know you could get into serious trouble for that?" He asked, grabbing the fake I.D. and inspecting it carefully. He had to admit, it did look pretty authentic.

"Nah." Chris shrugged. "They always go easy on us kids."

Phil threw the card onto the counter between them and gave Chris a curious look. "Why do you do stuff like this?" He asked seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you always put yourself at risk like this?" He honestly wondered if Chris had a reason for being so reckless. "Sneaking out all the time, getting a fake I.D. so you can get blackout drunk. I mean, is there a point for any of it?"

It was quiet for a moment, with Chris not looking at him directly, focusing on the countertop instead. He seemed a bit deflated, like he was actually thinking about all the stuff he did and maybe doubting it. Phil felt sort of bad for bringing it up, it looked like a sore topic.

"Not really, I guess." Chris answered eventually. "Just....why not?"

And Phil didn't have time to wonder what the hell that meant, because then there was a knock at the door, and Chris went to go answer it.

"What's up, sluts?" Elliot exclaimed as he walked through the door, throwing his bag on the couch and sitting next to it heavily. They were going to pick up Grayson later on, since his mum hadn't let him spend the night. "Where is the remote?"

Chris sat next to him, and Phil guessed it was his way of saying that their earlier conversation was now over. Not that it had really started in the first place.

The hours passed with a defined cruelty.

No matter how much he tried to calm down, and no matter how many annoyed glanced from Chris and worried ones from Ellie, he was still a nervous wreck. He wasn't as used to breaking rules as the rest of them were. He done some crazy and questionable things in his life, especially after he met Chris, but this just seemed a lot more surreal. It definitely wasn't the worst thing he'd ever attempted, but he just couldn't shake the foreboding.

When Chris's mum came home at around nine, bearing three large pizzas, he only managed to give her a weak hello; he was about to break the unspoken trust given to him while staying there, he couldn't very well smile in her face about it.

"You look like you're gonna vomit." Elliot said to him quietly later on, pulling on a pair of skin tight pants that were the same shade of red that an apple might be. It was officially time to actually start getting ready to leave. Chris was standing in front of the mirror in his underwear, with about twenty pairs of pants scattered around him, trying to decide which ones looked best on him.

"I'm fine." Phil assured him. He was ready to go, waiting for the other two to hurry up so they could leave already. He'd rather get this over with as quickly as possible. "Just, pre-show jitters or something."

"You don't have to play tonight, you know."

"I kind of do." Phil said with a laugh. "I've already agreed. The spot is already booked, how pathetic do you think it'd be if I backed out right now? We'd probably be blacklisted."

Elliot reluctantly agreed with that. He reached down to pull his shoes on and Phil watched disinterestedly. He could see the dark roots of his friend's otherwise bright hair.

"You guys ready?" Chris asked. He'd decided on a pair of black jeans that looked just like every other pair he owned. "Let's go."

It took only a minute for them to successfully reach the front door as quietly as possible, but it seemed like years of navigation through the darkness, and Phil began breathing normally again only when they were outside. The car was parked a little ways down the street, so they wouldn't be caught when the engine started.

As he climbed into the backseat, almost tripping over his own feet as he ducked into the car, he tried his hardest to clear all the negative thoughts from his head.

Because this was a good idea.

Right?

***

"Oh, fuck me."

Grayson was peeking out from behind the heavy curtains, eyeing the crowded room uneasily and muttering cursed every few minutes. Honestly, it was doing nothing to calm the rest of them down.

"That's a lot of people," he said with obvious nausea in his voice. "This is literally the biggest crowd we've ever played for, guys. I'm gonna throw up."

"Would you shut up, Gray?" Chris snapped, pacing the floor and staring up at the ceiling at the same time. Phil leaned against the wall next to him, hiding his shaking hands behind his back. "It'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

"I don't know," Ellie said. He seemed to be the most calm of all of them, casually sitting on the floor and staring at his phone screen, but Phil could see the tense set of his shoulders. "What if he actually does vomit? You think that would ruin the show?"

"Don't talk about it, you'll make it worse," Grayson moaned, turning away from the curtain.

"Just stop freaking out, everybody," Chris said. He took a deep breath, and they could all tell he was getting into 'pep-talk mode'. "We're going to go out there, and fucking play our hearts out, okay? Don't worry about messing up, just pretend we're at any usual practice and do your best."

"And what if that's not good enough?" Phil asked quietly. Ellie and Gray nodded in solemn agreement; they were all thinking it. What if they weren't as good as they thought they were? What is they messed up so horribly, and ruined any chance they had at achieving fame, being noticed?

"Then we go home and laugh about it, and curse these bastards for being too narrow minded to see how awesome we are," Chris reared on. He was a lot less anxious than before, and actually managed to smirk a little "And we can still just tell everyone we played here. Bend the truth a tiny bit."

"We have three minutes," Grayson announced, twisting the microphone in his hands nervously.

Phil grabbed his bass from the where it was leaning next to him, tossing the strap around his neck. Chris did the same with his guitar, and Elliot hopped up from the floor, tossing his sticks into the air habitually.

He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and thought it was a lot faster than normal. He had to focus, had to keep it together, or else he's mess them all up.

"We'll be fine," Chris muttered, more to himself than to the rest of them, and then they were being called out onto the stage, and Phil almost tripped again over his shoes. Why was he feeling so much more clumsy right now?

It was bright and it was loud, but Phil kept his eyes on his shoes as he walked across the seemingly endless stage, towards the amps where he was supposed to be standing. Chris had already plugged in, and was staring at Phil, waiting for him to do the same.

"Hey everybody, we're Heinous," Gray said, barely heard over the screams of the crowd. So far, so good, it seemed. "And we're here to fuck shit up."

The crowd noise grew to an even louder crescendo at that, and Phil almost smiled. At least these people were a bit more accepting of their style.

The song started with Phil and Chris strumming a steady rhythm together, eight beats and then Elliot jumped in alongside him with a crash of the bass drum. It was even and sort of tame at first, as Gray crooned the first verse.

'Out
I want out
Get me out...'

Phil's stomach was rolling still, but he could feel the deep beats of his bass pulsing through his hands, and it settled him the smallest amount. They had practiced this song so many times, to the point of memorizing each other's parts, and he easily closed his eyes and continued playing.

'Get me out of this circle of
Despair
Get me out,
I want out.'

Shit, shit, oh shit, Phil thought in anxious anticipation. His fingers worked over the strings quickly, matching his band mates perfectly as the tempo swung up. It was energetic, playing so loud an uninhibited, hearing the roar of hundreds of people screaming their approval as they played, and his adrenaline levels were at maximum. He felt almost drunk, and in such a good way.

'And suddenly the world seems
Very small.
There's nowhere to hide
There's nowhere to run
Nowhere to escape the truth that
I've been denying so long'

Exhilarating and intoxicating and every other fucking poetic word you could possibly think of, Phil was feeling it. He was already sweating, feeling his hair stuck to his face and his shirt sleeves to his arms. He wanted it to last forever.

And they played on and on, encouraged by the crowd and the music itself. This was their element, they were at their most comfortable behind their instruments and with each other.

The beat got more erratic as they progressed, spinning together wildly into the most catastrophic symphony of emotion and sound, and it was beautiful.

'Because there's a storm building on the horizon.'

He swore Elliot would have broken the crash cymbal if he played any harder.

'And I don't wanna be here when it hits.'

Phil ceased his playing as the tempo slowed once again, and listening to Chris and Ellie and Gray, their sound twisting together so effortlessly

'Because I've been here before.
And this time
I don't want to be the one left crying
As you walk away.'

Phil could hear his harsh breathing in his ears as the song ended abruptly, and the pounding of the crowd as they absolutely bellowed. And he realized he was smiling so hard his cheeks were beginning to ache. He felt awesome. Powerful and on top, like he could do anything, anything he wanted.

"Oh my fucking god!" Elliot shouted from behind him. He was beaming despite the sheen of sweat that covered his face. "I think I just popped a boner."

Phil laughed in exuberance. "Well don't come in your pants, schoolboy, we still have a few more songs!"

***

Forty-five minutes later found them all sitting around a slightly small diner table, still laughing and eagerly recounting the events at the club while sharing a huge plate of chips that sat in the middle of them.

Despite his promises, Chris hadn't touched any sort of alcohol, and Phil wondered if he'd been persuaded by their, not so much an encounter as a flimsy discussion, from earlier. Either way, he was just glad they were all in their right minds.

"I'm pretty sure I'll be partly deaf for the next week," Elliot half yelled, making them all laugh even harder. It was just a general air of giddiness surrounding them, and everything was funny and entertaining.

"Seriously, guys," Chris spoke up, and they turned to listen to him. He smiled at them grandly. "This was possibly the best thing we've ever done together."

Phil couldn't help but agree with that. He was still buzzing from the aftermath, recalling the group of girls (and even a couple guys) who'd practically fainted when he touched their hands over the edge of the stage.

"Very much agreed," Grayson said with a grin. "And I'm damn hopeful we'll get another chance like that."

The one waitress on duty kept shooting them weird glances, obviously questioning why four teenage boys were crowding her diner at midnight, but obviously not caring, if they were paying.

"Glad you didn't wuss out on us, Lester," Chris said, making Phil roll his eyes.

"Yeah, cause then you wouldn't have been able to flash your unrelenting beauty at any onlookers, right?"

"Fuck off."

"Seriously, how many phone numbers did you get?" Phil goaded, enjoying the faux irritation his friend was giving him and the small sense of pride and freedom he was currently experiencing.

"That's entirely not your business." Chris said haughtily.

"Bet it's in the low thirties," Grayson muttered, ignoring the scalding glare Chris gave him.

Phil suddenly felt his pocket vibrating, and almost had a heart attack, thinking it might be his mum calling to tell him he was grounded for life or something. But he pulled out his phone and sighed with relief at the caller I.D.

Lover.

"I, uh. I have to take this," he said lowly, slipping barely noticed from the table and stepping outside into the chilly air.

He was very hesitant in taking the call; what did Dan want to say to him? Were they officially over, or...or was he calling to yell some more? Neither was s good outcome.

The phone rang again, and Phil sighed in resignation before accepting it.

"Hey," he said cautiously. He heard Dan breathing quietly on the other end, and felt almost comforted by it. Sometimes, they would talk all night, and Dan would fall asleep right there on the phone, and Phil tried not to think it was creepy that he would listen to him a few seconds more before hanging up.

"Hi," Dan replied evenly, and God, Phil would never admit out loud that he'd missed just hearing him speak. "I, um. I guess you guys are done with the show?"

"Yep. Just out, celebrating or something, I guess."

"How was it?"

"It was so great, Dan," Phil breathed, letting the smile take over his face. "I-I don't even know how to describe it, just...amazing and I want to do it again. I wish..." He trailed off. "I wish I could show you how it felt."

There was a heavy silence, and Phil even ha the split second thought that Dan had hung up on him, but then there was an airless laugh, and Dan hummed thoughtfully.

"I bet you were great. You always are."

"I'm sorry, Dan," Phil said suddenly and quickly. He leaned his head against the brick wall in front him, turning his head and watching his friends joking around inside through the glass. "Last Sunday, when we had that argument...I feel horrible and guilty about this whole thing. Keeping us a secret, not spending time with each other because of it. I know you hate it, I hate it too. I just really don't know..." He swallowed. "I don't know how to do it differently."

He waits in bated silence for Dan to reply, feeling his heart pounding almost as much as an hour ago when he was playing. It's uncomfortable.

"I don't like arguing with you," Dan says softly, Phil having to press the phone closer to his ear to hear him properly. "I understand, why it's important for both of us to keep quiet about it."

"We don't have to, Dan," Phil rushed out, ignoring the doubt in his mind about what could all go wrong by it. "I'll tell them if you want, we won't have to hide anymore."

"I think it's better if we do, Phil," Dan explains. "It's how we work together. I think that...changing so suddenly would put everything off." Phil doesn't miss the empty hope in his tone, even through the phone.

"I don't want to make you feel bad about us," Phil said gently. "Like you think I'm ashamed of us or something-"

"I don't think that," Dan interrupts. "Honestly. I know how much you care about us, and care about me. You don't have to drive yourself into a situation you're not okay with just for my sake."

"I really like you, Dan."

Dan laughs at that, and Phil can also hear the fatigue in it. He must have stayed to just to call him. "I really like you too, Phil."

And though the phone call is short and not that sweet, when Phil goes back and joins his friends in the empty diner, he feels a hundred times lighter. And that's what really matters.

***

a/n: I think I've literally apologized every single chapter in this story for updating so late. And that's probably not gonna change.

I'm so sorry guys, I know I promised you this chapter last weekend, and I really don't have any reason for breaking that promise. Just, lazy I guess :/

But anyhow!!

How have your lives been? Mines been fucking CRAZY, it's almost my birthday (aka Halloween, yep, my bday is literally on October 31, I'm satan). And oh shit, SPN is back on Wednesday, I'm so freaking out about that, AAAAHHH!! And How To Get Away With Murder is back on, ITS SO FREAKING AWESOME oh lord I'm gonna cry. Too many things happening this month.

And TABINOF on the 13? I wanna get it, but I'll probs have to wait a month or something to buy it. Still excite though

Okay yeah, that's enough personal stuff. I hope you guys liked this chapter, and next will be the TCE party, oooh. Dan and Phil....all alone...yas.

Also, very big thanks to @Tawnyowl781 for letting me use their song lyrics in this chapter, thank you so much <3

I love you all, peace :3