Phil awoke with a pounding headache. His first thought was "am I drunk?" and he maintained that idea for a while. Then, PJ's characteristic three taps on the door, and the absence of a warm body curled up beside him hit him.

"Dan," he whimpered, unconsciously.

"Phil?" PJ called from outside the door. "Are you ok?"

"Not really, if I'm honest," Phil called, trying to make a joke, but in his tear-filled voice it sounded pathetic.

"Oh, stay there Philip, I'm coming to comfort you," PJ called, pushing the door open. When he saw Phil curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth on the bed, his eyes softened and he sat down on the bed, putting his arm around Phil. The mattress sagged.

"Baby, what's wrong?" PJ asked, rocking Phil from side to side. Phil would've laughed at the old nickname that PJ had used back in the day when he was twenty and still hadn't had to shave, but he was too upset.

"Stupid question, I guess. What're you going to do about it, should I say."

"I don't know," Phil choked. "I wish I'd never said anything."

"But you did, didn't you. I think it's better that he found out from you - I'd have told him if you didn't."

"But-"

"So, I think you need to go and talk to him."

"He said he needs space-"

"He's had a whole night to think about it, Phil. I think he's had enough space. He probably wants you to go talk to him, and fill the depressing empty space that he's realised he doesn't really want."

"What do you mean?"

"My room's next-door to his, Phil."

"So?" Phil asked, not comprehending.

"He was crying all night. Really sobbing his heart out. And from the look of your face, so were you."

Phil wiped his eyes and rubbed his face to attempt to regain a more normal skin tone, but with no success.

"You wouldn't waste that much time over someone who you didn't care about. And I can vouch for the fact that you love him. So, you need to go see him."

"Will you come?" Phil asked, his voice trembling.

"Of course. Now get dressed and let's go."