"How can you think you're serious?
Do you even know what year it is?
I can't believe the scary points you make"

***

It was almost eleven at night, and Phil had been trying to stay awake for the last hour and a half. He didn't usually take late shifts at his dad's restaurant, because he wasn't a big fan of working at all, and he didn't need the added exertion on top of homework and band practice. But lately, he'd been needing a distraction that didn't have to do with staring at his bedroom walls until he got dizzy or talking to other people, and this was the only choice. At least he got paid for it.

The place was empty, long since rid of the late night occupants and the other employees who actually had lives and plans, so that now it was just him and his dad, and the occasional flickers of the fluorescent lights that painted shadows on the walls out of the corners of his eyes. It was boring.

"Don't you usually stay up until three in the morning?" His dad walked out from the kitchen carrying a large box, grunting as he set on the counter, and turned to his son. "Didn't think a late shift would be too much of a challenge for you."

"Not like I have anything to do," Phil said tiredly, resting his chin on his folded arms. They were technically still open, but no one else would come in at this hour, not compared to the flashy, more extravagant and expensive cafés and diners just around the corner. This was more of an afternoon place, where curious passerby stepped in to see what an area like this had to offer that allowed it to still even be in business. Phil sighed. "When are we leaving?"

"Soon as I'm done taking inventory." His dad opened the box and started piling stuff onto the countertop; mustard and ketchup, napkins, and silverware. "Why don't you make yourself useful and organize the cash register, you know Mike always makes a mess of it. I swear, it's like he's never seen proper money before in his life..."

Phil pushed himself off of the counter and headed to the register, sighing heavily when he opened it and saw how much of a mess it really was. He didn't have enough physical effort for this right now.

A sort of docile calm fell over the two of them as they worked their separate jobs, and the only sound was the occasional scratch of pen against paper from his father and the clink of change against the counter as he sorted it all out.

It was times like this he liked having such a reclusive relationship with his parents. They could sit in silence for as long as possible, not uttering a single word about their personal lives or anything outside of what needed to be said at that exact moment, and it didn't matter. It did seem a bit unhealthy and worrying, but right now, he could do with some time to himself.

But then there were times when his parents did ask about his life. Maybe just to fill a silence they felt was too awkward, or to try and seem like they were interested in what he had been up to lately, but it was always unplanned and uncomfortable.

Tonight was just not his night.

"So," his dad started, not looking up from whatever he was writing. Phil glanced at him uneasily. "How have things been lately? Doing good in school and all that?"

Phil bit his lip, pausing from what he was doing. "I guess, yeah," he muttered. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk, just...maybe some other time. Like, a few years from now. "I'm doing a lot better in Physics." Despite his previous lack of enthusiasm towards the constant tutoring with Holden, he found that it actually had helped him improve his grades, which was at least one less thing to worry about.

"Wow, words I thought I'd never hear." He laughed at Phil's scowl. "And, uh, what about the mystery someone you've been seeing behind our backs?" Sometimes, it was very weird to realize that they knew next to nothing about his personal life, despite the fact that he was the one who made it that way.

He began to refill the register, saying nothing for a long moment. "We're not really...a thing anymore. I guess."

His dad whistled lowly. "Ah. You didn't break their heart, did you?"

Phil laughed solemnly. "No, it was, kind of a mutual breaking of hearts. He did the breaking up, but it was mostly my fault."

"He." Phil rolled his eyes at the excitement his dad got just from knowing it was a guy. "I don't have to rough anyone up, do I?"

"Jeez, no dad. It's fine."

They lapsed back into silence again, slightly less awkward than before. It was almost comforting, or at least, not so invasive and suffocating like usual. He always felt uncomfortable, not having anything to say in the middle of a conversation.

When he'd finished with the register, it was almost 11:30, and he waited impatiently for the time they were going to go home. He didn't know how they expected him to stay up so late, do all of his homework, and still wake up on time for school the next day. It was an unrealistic expectation that he would never fulfill.

"What have I told you about inviting your friends here at closing time?" His dad suddenly said, trying to sound stern and reprimanding but mostly coming off as mildly whiny.

Phil looked over at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

His dad pointed towards the glass door, and Phil was expecting to see Chris or Grayson, or even (by some grace of God and a whole lot of luck) Dan, but it was none of the above. He stood frozen, trying to wake up from whatever lucid dream he'd concocted from his lethargic state of mind. But nothing changed.

"I'll just..." Phil closed the register and gave his dad a reassuring thumbs up. "I'll just be a minute, okay?" He didn't wait for a reply before pushing his way outside into the cold night, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and staring up at the figure in front of him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Jeez, nice to see you, too." PJ smiled mockingly at him. "Not like I braved the harsh winter weather just to talk to you or anything. Could use a bit more appreciation."

Phil looked back into the restaurant where his dad was watching them not-so-inconspicuously from the corner of his eye. "Now isn't a very good time."

"It's about you and Dan." He grinned when Phil snapped his gaze back towards him, eyes wide with shock. "Did you two seriously think it was ever a secret? You can't keep your eyes to yourself." He shrugged. "And I may have went through his phone when he wasn't around."

Phil tried to let that sink in; it was a slap to face, knowing that everyone had already figured it out while the two them kept up their oblivious little bubble, like no one else was around and could see them. It made it even harder, knowing it was all over with anyway. "Okay," Phil said slowly. "So you know. You want me to stay away from him now?"

"Don't be so paranoid." PJ said. "Not everyone is here to fuck with you two, not even me. I'm just here to say that I sincerely believe you both need to get over whatever shit fest you've created and make up again, it's annoying how much you pine over each other without even noticing. It makes me nauseous."

He don't know if he should actually believe all of this, if PJ wasn't just here to rub it all in his face or to humiliate him even more by getting him to do something stupid. From all the stories Phil had heard of him, it didn't seem entirely unlikely. "I thought you two were...together?"

PJ smiled again, but it was much more subdued and stiff. He stared down at the ground. "Yeah, well. I don't have the best reputation with relationships, you might've heard." Phil's stomach twisted as he remembered Chris's words. "And Dan's my friend. I know he's only with me to try and get over you. If I let it get too far....I don't want to hurt him, okay? He doesn't need that right now."

The infamous PJ Liguori was not known for his sincerity, and Phil was questioning this whole thing as it played out. Was this really a side of the asshole player that he'd never seen before? Was it some elaborate plan to make Phil think he still had a chance, only to fuck things up for possibly the hundredth time? Or maybe this was a dream, and he'd wake up any second with his mind reeling and the hole in his chest aching at the edges.

"I appreciate the effort," Phil said, practically choking the words out around the lump in his throat, "but he doesn't talk to me anymore. There's nothing else I can do."

"So you just give up?" PJ shook his head. "I thought you really liked him." Phil opened his mouth to protest, but the words wouldn't come. He didn't feel like arguing about this, not right now and definitely not to the guy had hurt his best friend and was on his way to doing the same to Dan. It wouldn't change anything. "I know he doesn't make it easy, but you can't just let him go like that. Not if he means anything to you."

PJ slowly retreated, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he left, but only made it about five feet before he turned around again. "You're not selfish for wanting him back, and he's not selfish for turning you down. There's always gray areas; you just need to find them."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the darkness like he'd never even been there. And Phil watched until his hands grew numb, before sighing shakily and walking back into the restaurant. His dad looked up at him.

"What was that all about?" He asked as Phil sat heavily in the chair behind the counter. "Seemed pretty intense."

Phil said nothing for a minute, staring at the wall blankly. Then...

"I think the universe is telling me I'm an epic failure." And he had no idea what to do about that.

***

Grayson and Elliot were sitting by themselves, across the cafeteria at a smaller table, talking like they weren't surrounded by other teenagers who couldn't seem to speak at a level below screaming. Elliot had re-dyed his hair so that it was a much more vibrant blue, and he looked...well, he was smiling, at least.

"I hate them," Chris said glumly, head slumped against his fist as him and Phil watched them inconspicuously, like good friends do. "Their relationship is better than all of mine put together, and they're not even dating."

"You're still young," Phil said, and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find yourself a good person before you're fifty."

Chris flicked him off unenthusiastically.

Phil hadn't told anyone yet about his late night visit from PJ a few days ago. He didn't think it would do anything good for their vibe, which was only just beginning to become stable again. Plus, he didn't even know what to make of it himself, and he'd much rather figure it out alone before blabbing about it to everyone. Keeping secrets had already been proven to be a bad idea, but this was different, wasn't it? He had a right.

But so far, he'd only taken the words into consideration metaphorically. PJ didn't give him any telltale signs that they'd ever spoken in the first place, and he hadn't seen Dan for the last week; it seemed he was skipping lunch now to avoid him, and if that wasn't a clear sign that Phil should leave things alone, he didn't know what was.

"Hey, so look at this," Chris suddenly said, and he reached into his bag to pull out a thick stack of papers, setting them on the table and leafing through them. "I put together a profile on the first groups we're supposed to be playing against. And from the recordings of their songs I've heard in YouTube, I think we might have a chance. I mean, they usually put the weaker bands up first, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem, but their setup is much higher quality than ours, so that may be a problem."

"Why are you freaking out about this so much?" Phil asked, snatching the top sheet and reading the page-long biography on every member, which included their blood type and shoe size. "It doesn't matter how much we know about them, as long as we play better than them."

"God, I don't even know." Chris ran both hands through his hair as he stared at the words in front of him. "It's just mild paranoia or something. I woke up at two in the morning, and I couldn't help it, I had to search up everything about them. I hate not knowing things."

But Phil didn't question it, setting the page back on top of the stack without a word.

When the bell rang, he gathered all of his stuff and parted ways with Chris, trying to make it to his next class all the way on the other side of the school in the allotted five minutes he had before he was considered late.

The end of the day was drawing nearer, and by the time he was sitting in his last period Physics class, he was dead tired. Not that he would be able to do anything about it after school, because they had practice every day now in preparation for the coming competition.

Holden had been sick the last couple of days, so there was no independent studying sessions for right now, but he didn't mind. He had actually missed being in the classroom, for some reason. And Holden was a strict tutor at the best of times, so that was less stress for him.

When the final bell signaled the end of the period, Phil was one of the first out of the door, wanting to get to his locker as soon as possible so he could leave.

But he opened the metal door, and there a small box sitting on the top shelf that hadn't been there this morning. There was a post-it note stuck to it.

still had your locker combo.
just some of your stuff, i didn't know if you'd want it back or not.
-d

A few of his old t-shirts that were probably too small for him now; crumpled sheets of paper that he knew were notes they'd written to each other; a faded notebook full of songs they'd written together.

Anything that might have been left of them was now folded into this box, squared away and stuffed into his locker with only a couple of flimsy lines explaining what it was doing here at all.

He couldn't deal with this anymore.

He dropped the box back into his locker and slammed the door shut, ignoring the people who stared at him as he marched through the crowds towards the second floor. Dan was standing by his own locker, zipping his bag closed, when he saw Phil heading towards him.

"You're a fucking coward." Phil didn't care how much of a scene he was making, he didn't care how much Dan would hate him or what his friends would think.

Dan stared at him open mouthed, obviously not expecting anger from him. "Excuse me?"

"You keep doing this over and over," Phil said through his clenched teeth. "Breaking my heart piece by little piece, is it too fucking much for you to just do it all at once? Look me in the face and tell me you hate me, instead of waiting till I'm out of sight to do it? I'm not gonna sit here and wait for whatever surprise attack you have planned next, so if you have anything else to say or give to me, just do it right now. Rip the fucking bandaid off, I don't care how shy or scared you are to face me. I'm sick of this."

The hall was mostly empty by now, but anyone who was there had gone silent and was watching the two of them. Dan looked around and clutched his bag to his chest. "Are you serious right now?" He asked in disbelief. "You couldn't do this some other time?"

He pushed past Phil without another word, and everyone else went back to whatever they'd been doing before. Phil stood there for what felt like hours, trying to sort through the mountain-sized pile of emotions that he'd gone through in mere minutes.

"Hey." Grayson was at his side, pulling at his arm gently to make him move. He must have seen the whole thing. "Let's go, okay?"

And Phil, still trembling, followed him.

***

a/n: feels like 2012 with all this angst man :p

but wow here's another chapter, lord knows i probably won't finish this story before the end of the year

a few things about my life that you probably don't care but i'm gonna tell you anyway:

•i'm honestly so ready for my birthday, i can't wait to be a legal adult and stay out until three in the morning and get whatever job i want it's gonna be great

•i really hope someone leaks tatinof cause i am not fucking paying for yt red to see this bullshit sorrynotsorry

•there's a new girl in my class and she's so damn pretty i stg this is illegal angels shouldn't be allowed in public high schools they don't deserve it

•i've been listening to a lot of ghost town lately??? this isn't even funny like why??? i thought that phased died in eighth grade??? revolution is really good???

•deadass if i ever see a clown just walking around anywhere near me you can just consider me dead cause i'm not dealing with this white people are wild

i guess that's it (i need to stop updating at ten at night smh) i love you all and i hope you're day is great cause you deserve it you sweet child, peace :3