they sat on the porch, the tension between them... tense. no words were exchanged between them as they looked around awkwardly, anywhere but not each other.

finally, phil was tired of the silence between them.

"what do you want to tell me?"

taken aback by the sudden question, dan stayed quiet. he knew he should be prepared, should be bracing himself for this, but in reality he wasn't. he was just as unprepared as phil was. he was, for once, scared.

scared of what words would spill from his mouth, scared of what the words that comes tumbling out of his mouth would mean to phil.

scared of what the words would mean to the both of them.

dan gulped, the lump in his throat hard to swallow. the thick air was unbearable, the awkwardness making the entire situation worse.

"dan?"

phil looked like he wasn't affected at all by everything, and dan scoffed to himself. of course phil wasn't affected, he wasn't the one that is going to say everything.

dan cleared his throat. he could feel himself sweating, the beads of sweat clinging onto his forehead, and he was thankful that his fringe covered part of his forehead and that phil couldn't see it.

phil couldn't see anything, and if dan wanted to describe phil in one word, is that he is fucking blind. phil was the most clueless person he had ever seen, but this time dan was secretly grateful that phil was clueless, because it meant that phil couldn't see how shaky and clammy his hands were, how his heart was beating so fast, how he was nervous overall.

"i have to tell you something, phil."

"what?"

that words came out like a demand, and dan hates demands. it's like forcing someone to do something that they don't want to do, and yet they're obliged to say yes.

and now, phil is demanding dan to tell him what he's going to say.

so dan obliges.

"i'm moving out."

"what?"

now this word came out as a shock, the tone going high. this word came out to describe how unbelievable the entire situation is, how it took the other person aback. they didn't expect it, they didn't see it coming.

phil was shocked. phil thought this was unbelievable, and it took him aback. phil didn't expect it, and phil didn't see it coming either way.

"i'm moving out." dan repeated the sentence, as if phil didn't hear it. of course phil had heard it; after all, it was just a normal day in the cold british air, as if nothing extraordinary had happened, but something had happened in the two men's world.

"i-why?"

phil asked that question not because in every goddammed drama or book, the main character would just to keep the plot moving, no. phil asked that question because he truly wanted the answer. he wanted the answer to why dan wanted to move out all of a sudden.

"i just felt like leaving. taking a break from youtube, and the fame, you know. sometimes it just gets too much."

"how about... me?"

well, dan surely wasn't expecting that last question. he wasn't prepared at all. in his mental script, phil should be saying 'okay, have fun'. in his mental script, phil should be hugging him, saying that 'you can come back whenever you want'.

not 'how about me'.

all the words that was cramped up in his mind after hours and hours of practise disappeared, not leaving a trace of where they might've went. if dan found them after this, he's going to smack them all in their head.

dan is now left with no words, and he has no idea how to answer phil.

phil, now dominating in this situation (since when is phil not dominating, if you know what i mean), stood up, scaring the hell out of dan.

"did you even think about... me?"

the hesitation in the word 'me' just breaks phil's heart even more. he wasn't sure about whether it affected dan, but he knew it affected him.

they had spent the past seven years together, and they had never separated before. hell, the though of separating with dan alone scared phil. and now it was starting to become a reality, phil didn't know what to do.

"i-"

"no, dan. did you even care about me? did you even think about how alone i will be, how lost i would be without you? have you even thought about me as a whole?"

the questions that bombarded in dan's way made dan speechless. for once, the stubbornness in dan faded away. phil was right. did dan ever care about phil? as a friend, yes. but now, he didn't even consider how phil would be affected.

dan had selfishly thought that the whole world was his, and that no one would be bothered as to where he go.

and come to think of it, there was a lot more people being affected rather than dan himself. for starters, phil. and next, it would be the fans.

oh god, how would the fans react? dan didn't want to know.

dan is now the ostrich, stuffing his head into the ground and pretending as if everything is alright when war was coming, when the truth is that everything is not okay.

but no, dan is just too scared of what the consequences would be, so he just hides.

"phil..."

"go, move out. i don't care. you've never thought of me anyways, so why should i care?"

oh, how the lies came out of his mouth, so fluently that you could even think that it's the truth. but, if you listen through the venom in the words, the poison in his mouth, phil cared. he cared so much more for dan, that he almost forgot to care for he himself.

phil didn't want to admit it, but he cared a lot for dan. and that's saying something, since phil had learnt as a young child that caring would only hurt you more.

maybe it's just the depressing quotes that he likes to search up, or the usual wattpad sad stories that programmed him, but sadly, phil believed them all.

like how he believed that dan would be there for him through thick and thin.

how contradicting.

"no, phil. i'm sorry. i'll stay i-"

"dan, if you want to leave, l e a v e."

dan's throat was then dry, raw. suddenly, the phil standing in front of him isn't the usual phil that he knew throughout his whole life. he was no longer the happy-go-lucky phil, he was no longer the cheery phil, he was no longer the phil that everyone wants to protect because who would hurt this innocent smol bean?

the phil that was standing in front of him was someone that he didn't know, someone that he wasn't familiar with. he desperately wanted to believe that this is all a dream, not some wretched reality. he wanted to wake up, and now he is screaming for himself to wake up.

"go, leave. do what you do best, l e a v e. r u n a w a y. r u n f r o m e v e r y t h i n g."

"no..." dan whimpered. how pathetic. whimpering? seriously dan? whimpering? you were never this weak before, and you were so sure to leave, so why the fuck are you whimpering now?

"shut up..."

"what, now you're telling me to shut up?"

oh god, this is getting out of hand, but dan doesn't know how to take control of it, how to regain his composure back when ten thousand demons in his head are screaming at him.

"you know, dan. i'm sick and tired of this bullshit. truth be told, i've never liked you before. i hate you."

i hate you.

i hate you.

i h a t e y o u

echoing in his mind, dan couldn't make them get out of his head. he hoped that he was hallucinating, hoping that the words didn't leave from phil's mouth. he hoped that phil lied.

but there is a little truth in every lie.

and the truth is that phil hated him.

suddenly a wave of nausea washed over dan, and before he knew it, he was dashing towards the toilet, using every ounce of his energy to get there as fast as he can and finally, he emptied out the lunch he had hours ago. he let out a weak cough, as he slid down to the floor. now, weak and deprived of energy, he couldn't move, as if chains of weight was hanging onto his four limbs.

he thought of the words that phil said. he smiled. he fucking smiled. he went insane, don't you know? he was so sad himself that his mind went bonkers, his mind went insane, and in this situation where he should be crying his fucking eyes out he's fucking smiling, and can't you see that he is slowly going insane, the demons eating him alive?

and he let out a laugh. he didn't knew where he got this from, but he laughed. what normal person would laugh in this fucking situation? he should be bawling his eyes out, or begging phil for forgiveness, but no, he's fucking laughing. it's scaring me, to be honest. it's scaring everyone, but it's satisfying the darkness inside him.

he's not dan anymore.

he is not dan anymore.

and in place, it's his demon. the overlord. the one that finally won sanity and is now controlling dan. you see, dan had lost. dan had lost to the demon inside him, and now it's controlling. it's controlling the dan that we all know.

and if things weren't serious, i would be singing 'phantom of the opera' but no, this is serious.

(and if you're wondering, yes i can hit the high notes, but that's not the priority now)

his laughter was maniacal, insane. inside, the dan that we know is screaming for help, screaming for someone to save him. someone, anyone.

but as usual, nobody came.

he slowly gained power. he stood up, a string of saliva and vomit still attached to his mouth. he wiped it away on his sleeve. he no longer cared whether he stank or not.

he unlocked the door. phil was still at the balcony, doing god knows what, but dan doesn't care anymore.

all that dan cares is that he have the power now. the power to do whatever he wants, the power to kill.

dan loved power, loved to be in control. and now that he had the upper hand, he no longer cared about phil anymore. the power is his, and he can do whatever he wants.

what happens next was a blur. all dan knew was that he had made contact with something, and that he had pushed it with all force, releasing his anger and sadness and his fucked up self in that one push. he heard yells.

then...

then he collapsed. his knees buckled, and his legs gave out. his breathing turned heavy, and each inhale was harder and harder as his lungs seemed to stop working. he panted, trying to get as much air as he could into his airways.

he grasped onto his hair, screaming. ironically, he could scream. he was paralysed but yet screaming at the same time. he was frozen but he was shaking.

and that was when he smelled something.

he smelled metal. the metallic smell wafted up into his nostrils, the familiar smell of copper filling the air.

the smell of blood.

and that was when darkness consumed dan (if they hadn't already).

--
dan groaned. his head was pounding, as if he had a hangover. he wanted to raise his hands up, but realised that he couldn't.

he looked down.

his hands were chained to the bed. and not some ordinary bed, no. the familiar black checkered duvet was gone, replaced by the overly clean white sheets, which blinded dan's eyes.

he wanted to move his legs, but he couldn't. his legs were chained.

it felt like as if his heart was chained together too.

the door opened. a doctor came in. dan didn't knew what was happening.

obviously he didn't know. i knew.

can't you see? i was the one who controlled him. i was the one who pushed phil down the balcony. i was the one who killed phil.

i was the demon in dan's head.

oh, can't you see? i loved the power in my hands. i love controlling dan. for the past years, dan was the one controlling me, controlling my powers. he was the one that suppressed me, that prevented me from appearing.

phil. phil was the one who made it even worse. he was the one that made dan ignore me even more. he was the one that got all the attention. he was the one that made me felt invisible.

all i wanted from dan is attention. is that too much to ask for?

all my life, i've waited for this opportunity. all my life, i've waited for dan to be weak, for dan to crumble. and he did, so i took the chance.

and it felt sweet. it felt nice. it felt amazing.

oh, how i wanted to laugh as soon as i saw phil's body went 'splat' on the pavement. how i wanted to smile as soon as phil begged for me to let him go. how i wanted to twist my knife into phil's beautiful, beautiful face.

and the best part is: i can get away with it.

they would blame dan. the internet would blame dan. the family would blame dan. the whole world would blame dan.

nobody would blame me. nobody. no one would know the truth.

so why are you still reading this book?

leave.

l e a v e.

r u n

b e f o r e  i  c a t c h  y o u