dan

if you had asked him if the cords and wires taped to his chest were suffocating, he would have said no. quickly, too, and with a sort of calmness that took years, maybe decades, to achieve. that was what he was -- calm. he was grounded, he was zen, he was a fucking monk. he had to be. 

he had to be. 

but if you didn't ask him, if you just watched, you might see his face twitch. you might see the circles under his eyes or the way his smile dropped at the edges the second he wasn't being spoken to, his chin angled toward the ground like those wires didn't just hang across his collar, they dragged him down toward the earth, and it took all of his strength not to let them. 

it was this exact feeling, and being so calm in the face of questions like those, that dan was dreading the most that monday afternoon. 

he and his family hadn't always lived so close to the clinic. when he was little, they had lived on the other side of town, with a creek in their backyard. 

it was while swimming in that creek that dan had his first episode. 

a couple of months later, they were packing up and relocating to a far busier street with no backyard to be found. but it was within walking distance of the cardiology clinic. and when dan was younger he hadn't understood why it mattered, just that his parents had gotten a phone call and proceeded to talk in hushed voices in their bedroom the second he went to bed every night.

now he got it. he appreciated it, even. 

and a plus was that now he was doing so much better that he was allowed to walk to his appointments by himself. with a pager strapped to his wrist, of course. but still.  

but that monday was different for a few reasons, a few reasons that built up and lead to something dan never expected to stumble into. 

1. it was cold. this wasn't that weird, but it was unexpected considering it was june, and mid afternoon. it had been hot for weeks before, but on that day, dan found himself physically shivering. 

this led to him walking on the other side of the street, rather than on the side that the park was on, so the shade from the trees wouldn't cause a deeper chill. 

2. since he was on the other side of the street, he actually began to notice the buildings there, which he hadn't really paid any attention to before. there was a series of small shops, most of them looking a bit decrepit, some even seeming to be abandoned, and he had never really noticed them before. 

he maybe noticed them too much, actually. 

3. dan was staring, mildly hypnotized, at a poster on the huge glass window of what looked like a video rental store when a man ran straight into him, burning hot coffee soaking into his shirt and scalding his skin. 

dan yelped and the man cursed, and the near empty coffee cup clattered to the pavement, squeezed into a crumpled shape by his fist tightening around it. 

"i'm sor-" 

"watch where you're walking, yeah?" the man scowled and shoved past him, trying to shake the espresso off his knuckles. he kicked his discarded cup in dan's direction, grumbling, and it ricocheted off his shoes, skittering back into the street. 

dan closed his eyes, holding his arms out to his sides, praying maybe time would reverse. he was zen, he was so fucking zen. 

his heart rate began to rise. he could feel his face going red. 

dan leaned back against the shop window and crossed his arms over his chest like a corpse, feeling his pulse in his wrists and hearing the blood rushing in his ears. he took deep breaths that happened more like gulps, like he was trying to chug the air. 

"jesus christ, are you alright?" 

he opened his eyes to find a boy in front of him. he had almost shaggy black hair that swept over his forehead, a forehead that was currently creased in concern and maybe a little frustration. he was holding a rag, and he had a name tag pinned to his slightly ratty shirt (there was some movie on it, a movie dan didn't recognize, but one that presumably involved a lot of killing). 

the name tag said PHIL, in a scrawled handwriting, with a smiley face tagged on the end like punctuation. 

dan nodded slowly, dazed. "uh, yeah. i'm fine." i'm zen. 

"i saw that," the boy continued, stepping forward with the rag, holding it out to him. "that dude totally ran into you, that was not your fault. he was being an asshole. are you sure you're okay?" 

dan hesitated, looking him over carefully, before he took the towel from him, dabbing it against the front of his button up shirt. he had to wear shirts with either buttons or zippers to his appointments, so they had easier access to his chest. 

now that he thought about it, his skin did burn. the coffee had been insanely hot, dan had just been too focused on his heart to notice very much. 

seemingly reading his mind, phil motioned toward the front door to the building, kind of shrugging at it. 

"c'mon, i can give you some ice for that." 

dan considered it for a minute. it was definitely a bad idea to follow this boy into his store, especially considering he was already going to be late to his appointment -- but he wanted to. his curiosity was getting the better of him, and his chest and arms really did burn... 

he finally nodded and went after him, clutching the coffee soaked rag in his hands, shaking a little. 

thump. thump. thump. it was slow enough now. no cause for alarm. 

he was so calm. he could not have his walking privileges revoked, he would rather die. 

phil led him through the store, between the shelves of thousands of dvds and even vhs, all adorned with faded stickers, some with their titles half scratched off. the walls were covered head to toe with posters, both big and small, colorful and black and white. a lot of them were gory and tattered, like phil's shirt, but some looked newer and much more pleasant. 

the store was completely empty, the only sound being some song playing faintly over the speakers. 

phil brought him back behind the register, and dan got a look at the business from the perspective of an employee, just for a second. for some reason, his heart skipped a beat at that idea... of working somewhere, anywhere. somewhere calm. but still somewhere. 

they walked into what looked like a break room -- despite being fairly spacious, the only things inside were a fridge, a sink, a tattered old couch, and an old, incredibly box-shaped television. dan wondered for a second if it even showed color. 

phil was looking at him slightly weirdly, reaching down to open a cabinet beneath the sink. dan felt his face heat up -- he hadn't really said much to him at all, he must seem so shy. 

"sit," phil said, motioning toward the couch. "if you want to, i mean. you don't have to." 

dan nodded slowly, swallowing hard. he took a seat, still holding the damp rag, resting it in his lap. 

phil walked over to him holding a new rag and a handful of bandages, and slumped down next to him on the couch. he held them out expectantly. 

"ice," he muttered, dropping the new rag into dan's hand, and he realized it was knotted around a few ice cubes, forming a makeshift ice pack. "and bandages. you know, if you need them. i don't know." 

dan could not tell how phil was feeling at all. he couldn't tell if this was a huge inconvenience to him, or if he didn't mind, or some other third thing. he had seemed almost eager to help, but he also possessed the same nonchalance that dan did, in a slightly different way. he was currently unreadable. 

"thank you," dan mumbled, looking away. he paused, his hand freezing halfway up to his chest. "um... don't look..." 

he felt phil give him another strange glance, but he obeyed, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands. "not looking." 

dan sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. his drew his fingertips over the sores from the sticky substances they used to glue the wires to his skin, sores that never seemed to go away, and now the burns on top of those. he winced, holding the ice against his collarbone. 

"is it bad?" phil asked him, right when dan had almost forgotten he was even in the room. 

"um... not too bad," dan replied, blushing. he was embarrassed... this guy had invited him in, given him ice for his burns, and he was making him sit here with him with his hands over his eyes like a child. he had to do something, change the subject. "do you guys get a lot of business around here?" 

phil snorted. "no. fuck no. virtually none at all." 

dan frowned. "so... how do you stay open?" 

"the owner is like a million years old." phil shrugged, his hands shifting over his eyes, but he didn't remove them. "and i think he's kind of loaded. besides, analog media is dead, but it's how dead it is that keeps it alive." 

dan had no idea what he was talking about, but he sensed that if he hadn't been covering his face, he might have caught a sparkle in his eye. he didn't seem as nonchalant anymore, not when he talked about this. 

"what does that mean?" 

phil shrugged. "we have some very loyal customers. a handful of them, but still." 

dan frowned harder, thinking that over, rolling it around in his head. he removed the ice from his chest, the pain soothed a little, and quickly buttoned his shirt back up. he double checked that none of his sores are visible. he cleared his throat. but before he could speak, phil beat him to it. 

"what's that thing on your wrist? is it like an ankle monitor or something?" he was smiling. "am i harboring a criminal?" 

dan shook his head, fighting off a smile of his own. "uh, you can look now." 

a grin pulled at phil's mouth and his took his hands away, looking him over. dan couldn't help but avoid his gaze. jesus, maybe he was shy. 

"are you some kind of monster or something?" 

dan blinked at him, taken off guard. "what?" 

"like, a werewolf. or you have, like, an alien parasite, and that's why you can't let me see your chest, because..." 

dan stared at him, at a loss for words. what was wrong with him?

"no..." he started slowly. "i just don't know you..." 

"right." phil laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. he was seeming less unreadable by the second, and more like an idiot. "yeah... i'm sorry. i watch a lot of horror movies, it's kind of all there is to do around here..." 

just the words horror movie sent dan into a bit of a cold sweat. he couldn't take horror, couldn't take anything that surprising even, really. he just couldn't do it. his heart started to pick up, his mouth would go dry, his limbs losing sensation... 

he couldn't risk it. never. 

"i should probably get going." 

something strange flashed over phil's face, something that looked like... disappointment? but then it was gone just as soon as it appeared. 

"oh, yeah... okay..." 

dan stood, handing back to phil the two rags and the untouched bandages. he took them, his hands dropping to his sides. 

"thank you... um, thanks. for this." 

"yeah..." phil shrugged. "no problem... let me walk you out." 

he lead him back past the register again, and dan got another good look at the empty, but lively, video rental store. it felt like looking into another life, and he couldn't quite pinpoint where that feeling was coming from. 

"i'm phil, by the way," he blurted suddenly, right before they reached the front doors, like he had finally realized he'd forgotten to say it. 

"i know." 

phil frowned at him suspiciously, his eyebrows knitting together. dan blushed, looking away from him.

"um, i mean, i read your name tag. i'm, uh... i'm dan." 

phil chuckled, and it was low and quiet, and it was so different from his previous snorting laughter that dan had to take a second to take it in. 

"nice to meet you." he held out his hand. dan took it. phil leaned in a little, and dan fought against his urge to lean back. thumpthump thump thumpthump. "watch where you're walking, alright?" 

4. that monday was different. because dan did something he never expected himself to do and, honestly, that he probably shouldn't have. but he did it anyways. 

he was almost out of sight of the video rental shop when he stopped, and he turned around, and he started walking back, his hand on his chest, his heart rate irregular but somehow steady. 

5. dan went back, and he asked for a job application.