P H I L ' S P O V

"Phil? Come on! We can't be late!" Dan called.

"I'm coming!"

I took one last look at myself in the mirror before running downstairs to meet my boyfriend. We were both in tuxedos.

After telling his parents about me visiting tonight, they made reservations at a fancy Italian restaurant.

All I could think about was how out-of-place I'd look. Blue highlights, tattoos, and piercings. Sure, I can take the piercings out- but even still I won't fit in. We got into my car and drove to dinner, and as soon as we walked inside, all eyes were on us.

Chandeliers and candles lit up the room, white tablecloths and roses being decorated with plates of food and wine. A fancy bar stood at the end, a talented bartender flipping a drink to impress his customers. The waiters were dressed nice, tuxedos for the boys and black dresses for the girls.

I gulped.

Dan grabbed my hand. "We'll be fine."

I nodded nervously and we searched for his parents, finding them at a booth chatting. I stared, seeing how much Dan looked like his dad. He had his mother's nose and hair color, but everything else is different.

They stood once they noticed us, Mr. Howell extending his hand. I slowly took it, shaking it. "You must be Phil. We've heard lots about you," he spoke, a small smile on his lips.

"Dad," Dan whimpered, embarrassed.

"I'm Mrs. Howell, nice to meet you," she grinned, suddenly pulling me into a hug instead of a subtle handshake. I gasped in surprise but hugged her back, looking over her shoulder to see Dan giggling. She pulled away. "Sorry, I'm a cuddler!"

Just like Dan, I thought.

"It's fine," I replied. "Should we sit?"

She nodded and they sat down on their own chair, Dan and I sitting next to each other across from them. I grabbed the menu and ran my eyes over it, surprised at how many options there were.

"Is this the cliché part where I tell the waiter I'll have what you're having?" I whispered to the pale boy next to me. He giggled, his tongue sticking out at the side.

"I don't even know what I'm having."

"Wanna split the seafood platter?"

He nodded and the waiter came. He seemed nervous when the man asked him what he wanted, so I put my hand on his thigh and ordered for him.

"We'll have the seafood platter."

Once the man left, Dan leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

I nodded.

Mrs. Howell cleared her throat. "So, how old are you Phil?" She began.

"Seventeen. I was born in January."

"Any life goals?" Mr. Howell piped in.

There's the question.

I stiffened up. "I don't know, really. I don't think I'm going to college, and career wise I'm not sure either. I just know I don't wanna be stuck behind a desk for fifty years."

Mr. Howell grinned. "Finally, somebody who's honest. I didn't go to college either," he responded. I smiled. "So why are you in support group with Dan?"

"I guess I'm just antisocial. I mean, I'm outgoing when I talk to somebody, but if I have the choice to not say anything then I won't."

Mrs. Howell nodded. "Daniel's the same way. He has anxiety, which I'm sure you already know. He gets it from me."

"Mental illness really sucks, huh?" Mr. Howell spoke sadly.

"Yeah," Dan sighed.

The waiter came back with our food and I looked over at the stuff. Shrimp, crab, calamari, escargot, fish. . .

"Wanna try the escargot with me?" I asked Dan. He smiled.

"On the count of three."

We took our forks and stabbed into the snail, looking at the food with disgust.

"1,"

"2,"

"3!"

We shoved the food in our mouths, chewing. "It's not half bad," Dan spoke, surprised.

"It's really not," I chuckled. I jumped when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out once Dan looked away to eat more. It was a text from Wirrow.

wirrow: that friend of yours is a great kisser.

I stiffened, quickly replying.

phil: what the fuck are you talking about?

wirrow: nyla, is it? she's adorable. i bet she'd look cuter in a puddle of blood, don't you think?

I gulped, the blood draining from my face. I felt sick. "Excuse me," I blurted, shooting up from my seat. Dan raised an eyebrow at me, concerned. I hurried away and ran to the men's restroom, locking myself in the stall. I dialed Wirrow's number. He picked up right away.

"Where is she?" I snarled.

"The question is: where are you?" Wirrow chuckled deviously.

"I'm not playing any games, fucker. Why is Nyla with you?"

He laughed coldly. "Is it such a surprise that I have a pretty girl with me? I met her at the hospital when you visited Dan. Why was he there, Phil?"

"Don't act like you care. Either way, he's fine now, and Nyla is too. Right?"

"For now. If you don't kill Dan by this weekend I swear to god I will snap her neck just as I'll kill your pretty little boyfriend."

"Why can't you just kill me? If I keep disobeying you, what's the point in keeping me?"

"Because you've got a soft side, Phil Lester, whether you like to admit it or not. And the closer you get to someone, the easier it is to break them. Think of it like a rope tied to a glass cup. You can pull that cup, but eventually you'll pull it right off the table and it'll break. I'm the one that cleans up the mess."

"Where's Nyla?"

"She's back home now. But I did learn lots about her, as well as her taste. I think we'll be a great couple, like you and Dan."

"Right, because a killer and an innocent will work."

"But that's exactly how you and the pastel boy are, isn't it?"

I paused. "Why can't you just let me go? I can't seem to get the job done, I'm dead weight to this group. I joined you two out of desperation. I want out."

"I've already told you that if you left us, it wouldn't be a peaceful exit. You made a promise. We don't allow witnesses. If you left, we'd kill you anyway. Bryony and I wouldn't risk you telling the cops."

My throat went dry. I remember joining them, I remember that horrible mistake as if it were drilled into my brain.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked after going into Wirrow and Bryony's basement. It was where we all used to smoke, but it no longer reeked of cigarettes. Instead, it smelled metallic- like blood. They were stood over a body, and the closer I got, the more I wanted to puke. The stranger was dead, and when they turned to me, they were covered in crimson. "Y-you. . ."

"You can't tell anyone," Bryony breathed out, almost pleading me. She tried to come towards me, to hold me, but I backed away. My heel hit the bottom of the stairs, and I began running.

I ran, but it felt like every step I went up, another was added. My chest heaved, and my fingers grazed the doorknob, until I was yanked backwards. I fell down the stairs, my body aching from the impact. Wirrow stood over me, Bryony panicking behind him. He pulled out a knife, holding it against my throat.

"Phil, you're our friend. But we can't have any witnesses. Either you help us out here, or you end up just like him," he gestured to the body.

"He was a bad guy, Phil, I swear- we wouldn't hurt anyone innocent-" Bryony cried, her hands shaking. It was the first time they had ever killed anyone.

"Pick. Someone called the cops and they'll be here soon, we can't wait all day," Wirrow growled. I gulped, trying to control my breathing. "I don't wanna kill you, but I don't have much of a choice here."

"I'll help you, just please don't hurt me."

And that sentence had changed and ruined my life forever.

"If you hurt Nyla or him, I'll call the cops," I snarled into the receiver.

"What, and you think you'll get out of jailtime? If Bry and I get stuck behind bars, you're coming with us."

"You think I care? As long as you two psychopaths are locked up, I don't mind losing my freedom either."

"Don't discount yourself, Phil. You're not so sane yourself. Three days. Time's a'ticking." Then he hung up.

, trudging out the stall and washing my face. I took one last look in the mirror before coming back out, forcing a smile at Dan.

"It was my mother, you know how it is," I told the Howells. They nodded.

"Have fun boys!" Dan's father called as we drove away. We waved and drove to my house, Dan staying the night.

"Wait, are we home alone?" Dan asked, noticing the dark and empty house.

"Mom? Dad?" I called out. No reply. I smirked, turning to him, taking steps toward him.

I pushed him gently until I heard his back touch the wall, cornering him with my arms. I noticed him gulp, his eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight. I leaned towards him until my lips were only centimeters away.

"I guess we are."

( a/n: ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) )