#i was looking at my paycheck last week & my boss only gave me 20 hours of PTO for the week i took off even though it should have been at

[mildmayfoxe]

i am sooooo tired and sad this morning

[through-blue-eyes]

3.7.2024

I opened up my Facebook app intentionally, instead of the usual absentminded habit - my best friend since childhood had shared a post and it was for moments like this that I kept my Facebook active. For keeping up with her, and the people I care about. I'm the silent facebooker these days, I may share things but I haven't made a real post there in a while. It doesn't feel like a safe space anymore - anything you say can and will be used against you at a future date.  But I digress...

Confidence Cat was the post - a little Sunday mental health boost ❤️I checked my notifications and my memories popped up this photo. It spurred a tsunami wave of mixed emotions - defensive, tense, hurt, ashamed, guilty uncomfortable, alone and also freedom.

2019- 4, almost 5 now, years ago. I was living in a cheap motel with weekly rates - you can presume from that the type of crowd it drew, but for me, it was all I could afford, to keep a roof over my head. It was a in-between move. Although, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t afraid I would be stuck there, and not make it out. I’d also be lying if I said I felt safe there, even though I wasn’t alone.

I was 7 months into working for this new company that opened up a couple restaurants in my area. I started at their BBQ place in April - with the intention of moving to the new steakhouse once it was ready to open. It opened beginning of July - I was making a 45 minute commute and I was sure that my car was going to crap out on me, so I made the call (with my boyfriend) to check into this motel, which was about 20 -25 blocks from work. The last week of July - my transmission went out, and fixing it was not an option. So I walked to work.

I was on evenings then, well, if you can call it evenings. I was salaried for  55 hours a week - I would leave my hotel room about 45 minutes before my shift started, giving myself plenty of time to walk to work, and rest for a few minutes before working my 10-11 hours as a sous. After the shift, which was grueling kitchen work, came the long, usually cold, walk home. Shower, sleep, repeat. I did this for three months. and that third month, October - I thought it was going to kill me. My legs and feet would swell and be so sore, so painful. I would lie awake for hours with my legs propped up once I got home, trying to get some relief so I could sleep. My days off were split at the time, and I think that's the only way I made it. I would work 2-3 days and then have a day off,  pretty much entirely spent in my bed, resting my legs/feet - and then go back for another 2-3 days.

I kept it a secret for as long as I could – I was ashamed, here I was, a few months from 26 – living in a known drug motel where the cops were called at least once a week - with no car, an unemployed boyfriend, and my 75lb reactive dog who didn’t have the space she needed. I was washing my uniform in the bathtub every night after I showered, and hanging it up above the AC/Heat unit so the air would have it dry by morning. Ontop of the swelling and pain in my legs, the weather was getting colder. Walking to work wasn’t so bad – it was actually perfect weather usually, but the walks home, after dark, and often raining, that’s when I could no longer keep it a secret.

I had a close work relationship with my boss - he was my work husband – and once he figured out my situation and what I was doing, he took it upon himself to talk to his bosses, the owners of the restaurant about my car situation, me walking. They told me to start looking for a used car (face book marketplace) and they would buy it, and then hold out $100 from each of my paychecks until it was paid off. In the meantime, the owners arranged for me to always have a ride home from work – the first night my boss gave me a ride home, once he saw the motel I was at, he didn’t want to leave – he didn’t feel as if I was safe there, even though I had my boyfriend and dog.

It was a blessing at the time, I felt humbled, and (I didn't realize at the time how much this would set me up for toxicity) I felt like I owed them a debt. Because they bought me this car. Within a month after getting the car, I was promoted to Chef – my boss had a health issue & personal choices that resulted in him taking FMLA, and not coming back. The pay increase allowed me to move out of that motel, into an apartment about 10 minutes from work. At the time I remember feeling so relieved. Grateful. Loyal. Empowered, as if life was finally in my favor. As if I was finally aligned with my purpose. The hard part must be over now. It actually, was the farthest thing from.

 Many things happened while I was employed with that company, I might turn it into a  multi-post series one day - not all of them good. But in the same breath, that job set me up to eventually break free from the toxic and abusive (emotionally, mentally) relationship I had with my (then) boyfriend, of 5 years - spoiler, I was with him for 2 more before finally leaving him. Everything had to crumble, fall, break, be rebuilt and then destroyed again before I finally broke free of those cycles.

I have truly come a long way – in the same breath though I’ve been stuck, because I don’t know what to do next. I don’t really know how to live a free life – I find myself disassociating a lot. Escaping. The life I have now doesn’t always feel safe – because the first 28 years of my life was filled with so much trauma. So many toxic relationships – family & romantic, and my own toxic behavior that I have to unlearn.

One thing I do know though. I know I want to write. I know I want to share my story, my voice. After so many years of being silenced. Imposter syndrome is a real bitch though – so I will continue cultivating this safe place. My small corner of the web where my story, thoughts, opinions will be told, unfiltered, and raw.

[benedicto-sinfiel]

Crowds

Almost all the decisions we make in our daily lives have more to do with automatized rituals than with autonomous acts, much less with gestures of freedom. Our days are more-or-less predetermined by the voracious demands of the economic system. Since we are young, they teach us to love work and hate play, despise it even. Anyone with a job knows what I’m saying. As you might expect, my daily ritual during work days was the stuff of nightmares one would find in a J. G. Ballard novel, a form of terror grounded on perpetual boredom and minor yet pervasive anxieties. Daily, I somehow found the strength to leave bed, ate breakfast (if time permitted), and then rushed to catch bus 299 which leaves me two blocks away from the warehouse. I work alongside what they call mojados (undocumented immigrants), old chinese women with fragile skin, and some aging felons under extreme heat while being submitted to increasing forms of domination. We load boxes of regional citrus fruits for a living. Our work speed is defined by the capacities of the conveyor belt that moves the fruit laboriously through such advanced technology as to give one the impression that such marvels ought to lessen the burden of work rather than raise it. After we pack a box full of grapefruits or oranges, we place it on our worn-out shoulders and carry it to the back of the warehouse, where they check the quality of our work and keep tabs of our loads. We get paid by the box, not by the hour as is legally required. If we can’t keep up with the minimum speed allowed - 6 boxes an hour, at the least - you get pushed back to the street without a paycheck or a job. “There are hundreds just like you just dying to take your place, best not forget,” the managers make sure to remind us a few times a week. At 75 cents per box, 70 boxes per day on average, 430 per week, we ended up with around $200 come pay day, after the bosses had taken their cut for providing water and rotten foodstuffs. I thought, they give us water as a trucker feeds oil to his truck, all while denying us pavilions of dreams and spaces of hope, and they charge us for it! This is why, as the worker-poet T-Bone Slim wrote, this is why workers are broke everyday but payday. The thieving bosses pay us just enough to keep us alive, for us to show up at work the next day. It’s a losers game, and fewer and fewer are winning these days. The first thing I noticed while walking into Bodega Fruta Libre was a group of five new workers who, as usual, were being given quick instructions before being thrown to the aggressive orders of the conveyor belt. It was their first day, hell even before the official start of their first day, and their faces already carried the look of doom, the look that says - I know something bad is coming, I’m not sure what it is, but it is out there, waiting for me, like a yearning leopard waiting to devour his tragically easy prey. Later I learned they were from Ethiopia. During our 20 minute lunch break, they were already complaining about the work. “This is too fast. My arm - almost gone, man!” expressed one of them. Him and his friends began to laugh about it, making jokes only they could understand in a blend of Amharic, english, and some obscure sounding language. We waited at the bus stop looking like a murder of crows, silent, bleak, and essentially harmless. Our friends from Ethiopia were visibly uncomfortable, I knew the look, but after a week of being here they would learn what it feels like to be worn slam out by the violence of the conveyor belt, at least physically speaking. I decided to introduce myself, lest they get the wrong idea about us. “Rough first day?” I asked. “Yes, friend. Rough shit indeed,” said one of them with a grin, “by the way, my name is Ife.” “I’m Antonio, see y’all tomorrow,” I said and waved hello-goodbye to the rest of them. Their young faces looked exhausted. Today had been their initiation into the American nightmare - the seemingly invisible cruelty that underlies the rhythm, flow, and quality of our lives - and they didn’t even know it, yet. I got off the bus on the corner of Elsa and Fields street and decided to walk home the rest of the way, making a pit stop at the Montes’ corner store. Then, the nightly ritual began: a few shots of whisky and a steady stream of whatever drink was at hand, today it was rum and coke. I sat down and thought of better things to come. That was the only thing that made reality pleasant. Dreamin’, that is. The intoxicating effect led me down the royal road where memories, history, and dreams converge. I saw strange snapshot images like the flashes created by fireworks: tired detectives, piles of bodies scattered like leaves in a warehouse, machines engulfed by fire, the reflection of the moon. Then, a more familiar montage of despair and hope: visions of youthful torment gave way to the gleaming spark of the cold flame that lit within me during the eventful days of yesteryear. I stumble upon crowds, a sea of enthusiastic, exalted, and enraged faces trying to find words, each other, themselves. They did it with such urgency that made you think they had never attempted to express themselves before. The crowd was debating it all - work, cities, music, jokes, buildings, poetry, love, history, and the importance of games. “What to do? Where to go? Who will join me?” wondered the multitude aloud with piercing eyes. “Let’s unbury the dead and conjure the ghosts that haunt us!” shouted someone in an attempt to win over the crowd. “The tears of the bosses are the nectar of the gods!” said another as the crowd laughed and enjoyed itself, merging and blending in unexpected ways, giving way to new forms and shapes. “Society is a carnivorous flower!” announced someone else. The crowd went on debating and throwing everything into the destructive force inherent to the critique of everyday life. A strange sound began to engulf everything. The atmosphere and our mood mutated as the blinding red and blue lights of freedom captured the night sky, the buildings, and the faces in the crowd. The sound of police sirens benumbed us and we were forced to disperse by the burning shower of rubber bullets and tear gas thrown our way. The passing of time has the effect of demolishing everything that stands in its way. People, places, my own self, were constantly changing, but nothing new or better ever seemed to replace anything. Old buildings were demolished by the city and nothing was built in their place. We live among ruins in a forgotten border town. I sat on bus 299 headed to work. Last night I dreamt of crowds and today I am immersed in them as I make my way to work. Real life crowds seem to be united by their disunity, I thought. People walk past each other daily without ever stopping to think about how much we would gain by embracing each other, which is to say ourselves. Where are the starving, restless crowds of yesteryear?

[emotionalsupportaudino]

literally me just complaining

I am very genuinely hurt by the treatment my school gave me in the three years I was there. This is my gentle full on vent. This is me getting out my incredible pain in a timeline.

When I went to NCC, my mental health was literally improving in strides. Two years and I walked out confident, happy, assured of my own worth. It was such a great school. I had such great friends! I was losing weight, I was running 5ks every day in the summertime, I was learning to love myself.

And then I started at Moore. My first year, my first day, my first class, I walk in at 8:30AM ready to fucking learn. I have my notebook, my flash drive, and my confident spirit. Here I was. I was at this fantastic school. All my professors at NCC were so proud of me for getting there. I was in a class studying my absolute favorite topic of my major: Character Design.

My professor walks in, six months younger than me and with a chip on her shoulder. She tells us that if we’re not pulling all nighters every project, we’re failures. She tells us we have an assignment worth 20% of our grade due the next Friday. A 4-person set of silhouettes from a fairy tale that make each character clearly defined as their characters. She gives us a rubric and only explains 80% of it. I ask about the other 20% and she responds “Oh I’m not grading on that, don’t worry.”

Anxious about this huge chunk of my grade, I skip out on a free music festival with my NCC friends and spend every night until midnight working on this project. I go through dozens of iterations of silhouettes for my characters. And then, I turn it in, and I barely pass. Because she gave me a 1/5 in the section of the rubric I asked her about. I ask her why? “These are too identifiable. They’re too obviously what they are.”

She continues this to the point where the rest of my semester is a fucking blur. I was miserable, having mental breakdowns once a week, and this lasted for about two months before I dropped the class because I was literally on the verge of killing myself.

She puts down every aspect of my personality, my very being. I worked in cut paper when I was at NCC and I did really well at it. I tell her I like working with shapes and it was my specialty at my previous school, she tells me “It doesn’t look like it.” I tell her my favorite games are Persona 3 (this is before 5 comes out) and We Know the Devil. She says the artist behind WKTD is a bad person and no one should play it, and that Persona is bad because why would any adult want to play as a teenager. She catches me listening to Love Live music and makes fun of my taste. When I had thought too hard about my project (a chimera where she literally threw an entire in-depth illustration at us the night before it was due and required us to pay fare to the zoo or she’d take 50% off our grade, WHEN I HAD LITERALLY JUST RECEIVED MY FIRST PAYCHECK and had almost nothing), and had everything about this animal planned, she asks me: “What’s the Latin name?” It was not mentioned anywhere on the sheet, it wasn’t involved at all. She docked me 5% for not knowing Latin

I seek out help, first, from my head faculty. I tell him the things she tells us. He says “oh I’ll talk to her, but that’s just how she teaches.” She comes in the next class talking about how much he praised her and how great she’s doing. She’s even worse to me. I cry in the bathroom for half the class and the head of first year classes catches me and literally lets me cry on her despite the fact I am not in any of her classes and tells me to drop. So I do.

My classmates for the rest of the semester are miserable. Everyone except for me and 3 others in my program are literally miserable for the rest of the semester. She cost kids their scholarships. One of my friends is so bad that literally the mention of this professor’s name causes her to have a panic attack. I accidentally caused one and felt awful.

This professor is the start of my Xanax dependence. And she’s never disciplined.

In the same semester they start teaching 2D animation. Except by start I mean start and finish. We are expected to know everything about 2D animation in one semester. We are never offered another class.

My second semester, two of my classes are taught by a man who DOESN’T KNOW THE PROGRAM and is teaching it to himself as we go along. He smells of alcohol, and at the end of the semester he disappears during critiques. We have to teach ourselves everything, except, SURPRISE. One of the classes is 3D modeling, teaching us the foundations of Maya.

We never learn the foundations of Maya.

Third semester, first of junior year, we find out the school has lied to us from the getgo. After saying every student got 1k for their internships, we find out students get $500. And the other $500 goes right to the school if you paid by month like I did. 

We also find out that everything we didn’t learn in our modeling class was super important. Our professor--THE HEAD OF OUR PROGRAM--gives up teaching us and kinda says to do whatever for our 3D Animation class. I ask him how to do several things specifically (2D animation on a 3D model being one of them). He does not know how. He does not bother to learn.

During that semester, my grandfather dies. I am told by my Admissions department job that if I miss more than one day of work for the funeral, I will be fired. I never got time to mourn. I still miss my grandfather. I cried about his death literally every day from October to May.

Second semester of Junior year is a blur because I am having so many panic attacks. I find an internship, but it’s outside of my typical field. That internship saves my life. And that’s barely exaggerating. I hadn’t felt happiness in a year when I started it and suddenly every day was... exciting again. I made friends, I had fun, I felt human.

First semester of Senior year is... rough. But not overly rough, mostly because I’m only taking two classes. And one of them is with one of the three (3) competent teachers I had teach me my studio classes. It’s great. I genuinely enjoy working despite thesis.

I had won a grant in the spring of my Junior year to travel abroad for two weeks at the beginning of September. My head of program swears he will present my game and get feedback. I return and he says there was no feedback. I ask my classmates--he never presented. I never got critique on my concept until three months into it because I thought everyone knew what I was doing.

Second semester of senior year was the worst four months of my life. I had never been so hurt, so ignored, and so honestly lost.

-My senior thesis class is taught by a woman who has no experience in any of the programs we are using. She has never animated in 2D or 3D. She has never programmed or designed a game before. She keeps asking for more work because she doesn’t understand that the 12 hours a week I’m putting in in coding is seriously beginning to harm my health.

-The same professor teaches the modern culture of Animation/Game Arts class. She refuses to touch on queer subjects. Repeatedly. She drops the hbomberguy stream but knows nothing about it. I wind up being the one who had to explain what it was about.

-She requires us to take a trip to New York and doesn’t get funding for us. This includes transportation there and back, subway fare, tickets to events, and meals. Had she mentioned it to ANYONE in administration, we would’ve gotten free meals. She did not. She left most of my class alone in New York City with literally no idea where to go and no instructions on how to get back. That trip cost me nearly $100 in the end. (I did get to see the original Taminella puppet at the Jim Henson exhibit at the Museum of Moving Image, and the costumes from Labyrinth, which was totally worth it and I broke down crying at it because like, Jim Henson means the world to me? I want to be like him. I just want to make the world a little brighter.)

-Oh did I mention we were never fully taught C#, and yet I was expected to code an entire game in it because for my thesis I wanted to combine 2D art and gameplay? Yup. She didn’t know that either.

-They refused to let us know anything about setup for Senior show until less than 2 weeks before hand. We had to pay for anything installed for the show and any decor. Every other major knew at least a month in advance. We had less than 14 days.

-I walked in on my one friend about to harm themself more than once. I found others saying they were on the verge of suicide. I comforted more people than I think I ever should have had to in those last 4 months. Whenever I asked for help, I was met with a door in my face.

DESPITE ALL OF THAT I have a deep love for my underclassmen. I genuinely want the fucking best for them. They’re in that hellhole and they deserve better, and I want to be as much help to them as possible. Our major has no connections in the paid art world.

Last March, due to my work in the library (AGAIN THAT INTERNSHIP SAVED MY LIFE ), I was offered a job teaching game design to kids in an underserved area. It’s good pay and great work and great people. So when they said “We need more people,” I immediately said “Let me get in contact with my school.”

The head of the program and his full time faculty both REFUSED to either answer emails or meet with me and my job leads. It’s good fucking work. I love every second of it. I’m happy doing it. And I know I have classmates who would be happy too.

And they’re refusing to meet with me.

Everyone else I came in contact with at the school was happy to see me again. The deans were happy, my old bosses were happy, my career center was happy, my old classmates were happy!

But it stings to be rejected like that after busting my ass for three years to do my best.

I just... I feel like I’m never enough for anybody. And the damage they did to my mental (and physical) health is irreversible. I got addicted to anxiety medications, I’m struggling to be confident in myself, I literally get told almost daily at work to not do the things the program drove into me.

I’m getting better and learning to be okay again, but... I’m really fucked up by this school. And I don’t know what to do.

(Oh and the school counselor apparently didn’t actually have a license to practice and often told me my anxiety was in my own head and that it was my own fault bad things were happening to me. Like deaths in the family. And the way my teachers treated me.)

[louezem]

Happy Birthday, Notanislander

I wrote this little thing for my friend, @notanislander, who celebrates her birthday today.  We first bonded over the agony that was reading Ronja’s “The Chance You Didn’t Take”, but I like to think our friendship has expanded way beyond tumblr and fanfiction.  NOI has always been there for me in some tough moments throughout the last year.  She has never stopped encouraging me to write, write, write, so this is for her.  We talked about a story based on TLC’s “Say Yes To The Dress” and I tried to make it happen.  This has not been beta’d, and I’m sorry its not complete, I didn’t have time but there will be possibly three more parts.  Endgame is everlark, always. 

Happy Birthday my friend. Sorry for posting this while you are at work. Time Zone Issues!  

(Thanks to my daughter @turtlingturtle for pre-reading, and if anyone would like to make a banner for this, I’d be delighted..)

~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~

Will You Say Yes?

Part 1 – The Fitting

Katniss sighed with relief as she pushed through the gleaming glass and mahogany doors of Templesmith Bridal, the most exclusive bridal salon in all of New Panem.   She hurried through the plush carpeted hallways to the staff lounge at the back of the store hoping no one had noticed her sneaking in through the public entrance.  She’d run all the way from the subway station but the icy rain had still managed to soak her to the bone.

Shivering, she shook out her wet hair wishing there was time to make some tea to warm up.  They opened to the public in 20 minutes so she only had time to change into the smart black outfit she wore at work and re-braid her hair before joining the daily staff briefing.

“Good morning Katniss!” Effie, the Bridal Director and her boss greeted her loudly when she tried to slip unnoticed into the main salon where the briefing was already in full swing. “Thank you for joining us.” Katniss felt her face begin to burn as all eyes turned to her.  Cinna, the salon’s Fashion Director, winked and gave her a soothing smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late Effie, my train was delayed…”  

Effie waved her excuses away.  “You’re here now so let’s not delay further.  Everyone, your clients for today are uploaded to your schedules along with the usual details on each bride and their preferences. Remember, it’s your job to help your bride find the dress of their dreams for their big, big, big day!  So smiles on,” Effie shot Katniss another pointed look, “ignore the entourages, and above all keep to your schedule—“

“—and if you have any problems or need assistance you can always come to one of us,“ Cinna added with his usual air of calm.

“Yes indeed, thank you Cinna.” Effie stood on her six inch heels and clapped her hands, the signal that the meeting was over. “Alright everyone it’s time to feed the monster!  The doors are open in ten!” The staff scattered in every direction to get ready to greet their first clients of the day.  

“Katniss, can I see you in my office for a moment?”  Effie called out.

Katniss paused, her stomach dropping.  Being called to Effie’s office usually meant one of two things. Someone had complained about her attitude or she was in danger of not making her monthly sales target.  

“Effie if this is about my sales target this month I can explain,” Katniss began anxiously.  Though selling wedding attire was only ever meant to be a temporary career for her, she couldn’t afford to lose this job right now.

Effie lifted a finger instantly silencing Katniss.  “Take a seat, Katniss. That is not what I would like to discuss with you today.”

“It’s not?” Katniss was confused, watching with fascination as Effie began tapping rapidly at a tablet with two inch vermillion nails.

“I have a very special bride for you today,” Effie began.  “Her wedding is in six weeks and she called me personally to request an appointment at short notice so I moved a few things around and managed to squeeze her in.”  She leaned across her desk and handed the tablet to Katniss, the screen containing a brief bio of a bride-to-be, her measurements, and a few other details.  

“Six weeks?�� Immediately Katniss knew this was a significant client. Appointments at Templesmith’s were booked up more than a year in advance.  For Effie to squeeze her in was a big deal. She scanned the open tab on her screen until her eye fell on the box marked budget and her eyes widened. Typed neatly in the box was the word, unlimited.

“I know it’s very short notice but I’m sure we can make it work. The bride is Glimmer Snow.  She comes from a very wealthy Capitol family, old money, but she knows how to spend it like it’s new, so don’t be afraid to bring out our most exclusive lines for her.”

Katniss did not miss the suggestion behind Effie’s words.  Their most exclusive lines were the most expensive. A sale with a big price-tag would really help her out with her monthly sales goal, and the commission would go a long way towards Prim’s tuition next semester.

“Effie, I don’t know what to say.  Thank you,” were all the words Katniss could muster.  Normally these type of clients were reserved for the more experienced sales consultants, not someone like her.

“Don’t thank me my dear,” Effie gave her a small smile. “Thank Cinna, this was his doing. Frankly, I had no one else with space in their schedule today and he said you deserved the opportunity.”

Katniss felt tears coming to her eyes.  Ever since she’d started at Templesmith’s Cinna had been so kind to her. He’d taken her under his wing and taught her so much.  His advice on the final touches - a lace veil here or a jewelled belt there - often helped her to close a sale and boost the commission added to Katniss’ paycheck every month.  

“Cinna says you have quite a talent for fashion, you know.” For a moment Effie’s hard exterior softened. “He also told me how hard you’ve been trying and that you are looking after your sister.  I believe effort deserves reward, so this is your chance.  Enjoy it.  You’ve earned it!”

“Ugh, this is so frustrating!” Glimmer whined, pulling at the gaping bodice of the lace dress she was wearing.   Katniss winced as one of Glimmer’s stiletto nails caught in the delicate fabric. “Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always dreamed of ordering my wedding gown from Templesmith’s, but nothing you’ve shown me so far is doing it for me! Don’t you have anything else?”  

Katniss looked at the seven dresses Glimmer had already tried on and discarded hanging against the wall.  All fitted styles, lace, no lace, beaded, simple, feathered, tulle, nothing she showed her seemed to inspire Glimmer.  Katniss had spent three long hours already with the bride and her entourage and she was exhausted.  It didn’t help that Glimmer didn’t have any definite idea about what she wanted in her wedding dress, other than “it must be white and sparkle like snow!”

“Making such an important choice can sometimes be a little overwhelming,” Katniss made herself sound positive.  “Would you consider trying a different silhouette? Maybe I could show you a ballgown?”

“No! I really want a dress that shows off my curves with lots of bling, but lots of lace too.  Maybe I’ll try somewhere else,” Glimmer pouted.

Katniss groaned inwardly and resigned herself to the likelihood of the sale slipping away when the image of another dress flashed into her mind.  Well, Effie did say to pull out all the stops for this bride, she thought.

“There is one more dress,” Katniss hesitated.  “I’ll need permission to pull it for you as it is very special, a runway piece.  We don’t usually sell those.”  

“That sounds exciting! Let me see it!” Glimmer tossed her long blonde mane over her shoulder and inspected her lips in the mirror, pouting at herself.  

Katniss nodded and left the room in search of Cinna.  She found him in his office and explained what she needed. One quick call later to the designer for permission and they spent a few minutes searching for the vast stockroom for the exclusive runway dress.

“Good luck Katniss,” Cinna handed it over to her, “go close that sale.”

“Thank you Cinna.  I’m aware I got this chance because of you,” Katniss squeezed his hand.  “It means a lot.”

Cinna smiled. “You got this chance because you earned it. I’ll be lurking around the main salon if you need me.”

 “I hope you like this one,” Katniss pushed her way into Glimmer’s fitting room. “I think it has everything you’re looking for.  It’s mermaid style, with a corset front and back.  It’s beaded all over with swarovski crystals—“

“Oh, my god it’s beautiful!”  Glimmer jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands in excitement. “Let me try it on.”

Minutes later Katniss laced up the rear of the dress and heard herself gasp out loud at the image in the mirror.  There was no doubt the unlined bodice and nude boning of the corset showed off Glimmer’s curves to perfection… and a lot more.

“It’s perfect! I can’t wait for Pete to see me in this!” Glimmer giggled as she turned to see the back. “I love it!”

Katniss smiled in relief at finally finding something the bride liked.  “It fits like it was made for you.  I don’t think it will much alteration, maybe a little off the length,” she noted, a good thing considering Glimmer’s wedding was only weeks away.  “Shall we let your friends see it?” she asked.  

Glimmer nodded and fluffed her hair in the mirror one more time before strutting down the hallway to the main salon like she was on a catwalk.  Katniss walked behind her, holding up the train. She couldn’t help but admire Glimmer’s confidence. With her blonde hair, blue eyes and curvaceous figure she was beautiful and she knew it.

As she stepped onto to the raised podium all eyes in the room turned to her, which was exactly the reaction Glimmer was looking for.  A huge smile lit up her face.  “Well ladies, what do you think?”

“Wow.”  

“Oh my God.”  

“Damn girl.”

“It’s perfect on you Glim,” Clove, the dark haired matron of honor said, and the rest of the entourage immediately joined in making various sounds in agreement.  “I think this is the one.”

“I agree, you should get this one Glim, it’s fabulous on you,” Cashmere, a bridesmaid tuned in.  “You’re glowing.”

“Do you really think so?” Glimmer asked, tears appearing in her eyes and at the moment, Katniss knew the sale was hers.

“What’s the price tag on this?” the last bridesmaid, who’d introduced herself as Enobaria, asked.

“This dress is a once-off by Pnina, and it’s thirty-two thousand dollars,” Katniss spoke quietly and held her breath.  Until now, not even Glimmer had asked what the dress cost.  

“That’s fine, my Grandfather can afford it,” Glimmer waved the price tag away with a smirk, turning this way and that, inspecting herself from every angle.  “How does my ass look?”

“Gorgeous.  Way better then Pippa whats-her-name’s,” Cashmere giggled.  

“So,” Katniss stepped forward when the giggles had died down a little.  “Glimmer, do you think you can see yourself getting married in this dress?”

“Yes!  Yes, this is definitely my dress!”  Glimmer announced and a cheer followed by clapping and congratulations went through the entire room.

“Peeta will lose his shit when he sees you in this.”  Clove stood up and hugged her friend.  

“He’ll rip it of you with his teeth,” Enobaria winked and joined in the hug, soon followed by Cashmere until all four women were laughing and crying together.

Katniss felt her heart jump in her chest and all of a sudden she felt breathless.  No, she must have misheard.  Clove didn’t just say Peeta. Did she?

“I’m sorry, did you say Peeta?” she blurted.

“What?” Clove looked up, clearly annoyed by the interruption to the moment.

“You said Peeta. I was wondering if I misheard you,” Katniss withered a little under the little brunette’s fierce scowl.  It was definitely competition for her own.

“Yes, my fiancé’s name is Peeta, Peeta Mellark. Why do you ask?” Glimmer raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in Katniss’ direction.

“No, no reason,” Katniss stammered a little. “It’s an unusual name.”  

“It’s silly, right?” Glimmer laughed.  “Pete comes from a long line of bakers and bread related names are kind of a tradition in his family. I’ve asked him to change it to Peter instead, but he can be stubborn sometimes,” she sighed.

“If you ever have a baby girl you should name her Pnina,” Enobaria smirked. “It fits with his family tradition.”

“Oh no, I have no plans to let him put any buns in my oven anytime soon, though he’d love it… are you alright, dear?”

“I’m sorry, I’m feeling a little dizzy,” Katniss mumbled swaying on her feet a little. “It’s a little warm in here.  If you’ll excuse me for a moment I’ll go and get a drink of water.”

“Of course.  Would you be a dear and bring us back some champagne too? I think we need to celebrate,” Glimmer turned her back and began twirling in the mirror again.  

“Sure, um, I’ll be right back.” Katniss fled the room. She pressed her hand against her stomach, hoping the roiling would stop. It wouldn’t do if she threw up on a thirty-two thousand dollar dress.

She fled down the carpeted hallway and into the stock room hoping that no one had seen her and buried herself in a dark corner, behind a rail of samples.

“Katniss?”  A familiar voice found her. “What’s the matter?”  

“Nothing, I’m okay.” Katniss reached up with shaking hands and starting pushing the dresses in front of her along the rail, pretending she was looking for something.

“Katniss.” Cinna reached up and stalled her hand.  “These dresses are for the outlet store. I doubt you will find a dress Miss Glimmer Snow, granddaughter of the infamous Coriolanus Snow, will want to wear amongst them.”

“She is buying the dress,” Katniss mumbled. “The runway dress.”

“Congratulations Katniss, I knew you could do it.”  Cinna pulled her into a gentle hug. “So why the tears? Tell me what has upset you.”

Katniss wiped her eyes with her sleeve, grateful she didn’t have time for makeup that morning.

“It’s Peeta,” she whispered.

“Peeta?” Cinna looked confused. “You mean your ex-fiancé Peeta? Has something happened to him?”

“He’s getting married.”

 End Part 1.

~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~   ~*~

And there it is. I’m sorry Peeta does not appear in person in this part, he will appear in Part 2.   :)

[worksofphiction]

(leprompt if u wanna write pwease)tired,underrated&worried fantasy-authorphil struggles to maintain his happy&bubbly personality as his very low book sales are no longer enough to support his dying mother. imagine dan's surprised fangirling as his favauthor just walks into the cafe & becomes his coworker one rainyday but he quickly discovers theres more to the man then well-crafted words/Phil falls slowly into hopelessness,lonelines & despair as his loving mum fades away& Dan? Dan falls in love.

You Can’t Tackle Your Demons on Your Own

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Dan is obsessed with a series of books by the amazing author, Phil Lester. He spends his time at the coffee shop he works at reading the books over and over again in the closet. When he meets a new co-worker who is also named Phil, they go on a date. Little does Dan know, he’s sharing a cup of coffee with the author he’s considered his best friend for years.As he gets to know Phil, he finds that Phil is housing a destructive secret. Why did Phil apply to work at The Brew Bean in the first place and what happens when Phil starts breaking away, piece by piece? Can Dan save his beloved author or is Phil going to fall slowly and hopelessly into loneliness and despair? All the while, Dan is falling in love.Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Sex, You’re Gonna CryWord Count: 21,897Reading Time: 01:20:43Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

This was certainly one of the hardest fics I’ve ever had to write. It’s really sad and I’ve cried so many times writing it.I hope you all enjoy my pain and suffering.

…and nothing made Striker happier than slaying the dragon he sought out to tackle. He made sure to wipe off the blood from his sword before returning it to its sheath and he faced his lover on the left. Embracing him and passionately planting a kiss on his lips, Striker felt whole again. That is, until his next quest.

Dan Howell shut the novel he had read at least 15 times already and took a sip of his coffee. His shift was almost over and it was dead. The coffee shop he worked in never saw a lot of foot traffic and when it rained, the business always slowed. He figured out pretty quickly that bringing a book was always smart. Especially when the sky opened up like this.

“Howell, go pack up all the lemon cakes, would ya?” His boss, a lovely woman named Louise, chirped at him. “I don’t think we’ll need anymore today and I’d rather not have to make more in the morning if they spoil.”

Dan stood up straight and tucked his book under the counter as he went to do a task he’d done more times than he could count.

Dan had worked at The Brew Bean for nearly three years now. He moved to Manchester for school and when that didn’t work - because Law was never really his thing - he dropped out and picked up a full-time position at the coffee shop he used to only work at a couple days a week. The tips were good, it paid rent and he could live in the city that he had fallen in love with. Manchester was his second favorite thing. His first favorite thing was Phil Lester, a novelist that wrote fantasy and supplied Dan with a book a year since he was 17. Now he was 23 and the most experienced worker at The Brew Bean where he could serve the city of Manchester while reading his books all day long.

“Please tell me you’re doing something interesting this weekend,” Louise came up beside him, nudging him as she began to put plastic wrap over a lemon cake.

“I told you, I’m not doing anything. I don’t know why you gave me the whole weekend off,” Dan groaned, suddenly remembering that it was Friday and Louise had ‘blessed’ him with two days off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in tomorrow and help you-”

“Howell, I gave you those days off so you could go do something fun for a change! When’s the last time you looked up from those little novels you always have your nose in?” Louise teased. “I swear you’ve read the same book more times than I’ve seen my husband naked.”

Dan cringed and shook his head, letting the hair fall into his face and hide the blush.

“Besides, I have an interview this weekend. Wouldn’t want you to scare them off. It’s the first application we’ve had here since last year!” Louise collected the lemon cakes that she had wrapped and a few from Dan’s hand, putting them into the fridge behind them. “And you remember how that went.”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t scare her off! She came on to me and I told her I wasn’t interested! It’s not my fault she can’t take a hint,” Dan scoffed, remembering the bubbly chick that worked with him for four days, conveniently disappearing after Dan rejected her confession of attraction. It wasn’t Dan’s job to date his heterosexual co-workers. He didn’t even feel bad when she came in a month later to apologize to Louise and pick up a paycheck. “Second of all, don’t you think I should be here? You know, to train them or something?”

“Nice try, Sweetie. He doesn’t start until next week. I’ll need you then,” she chirped. “Consider it a vacation. You’ll be training next week.”

“Ugh,” Dan groaned. “I hope this weekend doesn’t cost me my ability to pay rent, because-”

“Oh, hush. You have worked plenty of overtime. You can’t possibly buy enough Mario Kart expansion packs to make a dent in your rent money.”

“Mario Kart doesn’t have-”

“Howell.”

“Okay okay.” He might as well give up. Once Louise was set in her ways, it was like her mind couldn’t be changed. He decided to change the subject. “So you said it was a he? What’s this new guy like?”

“I don’t know. He only called. I’ll meet him this weekend,” Louise answered. Dan nodded. “Sounds nice though. A tad northern. But I couldn’t tell over my cell.”

“Interesting. I wonder how old he is. We could use a little grunt around here,” Dan flashed Louise a wicked grin and she hit him in the arm.

“Go sweep up and then I’m sending you home.”

“Sick of me, are ya?”

“Quite.”

Dan hugged his book under his jacket as he darted for his apartment building. Luckily, he made the last bus just in time and now he had to endure the rainfall for a few minutes while he trekked the last two blocks. He didn’t mind the rain, especially when he was headed home. At least his hobbit hair wouldn’t be revealed to anyone but him.

He wasn’t angry at Louise because most of the time she was trying to do the right thing, but he honestly had no plans for the weekend. He didn’t have much of a social life - considering he wasn’t in school and it was just Louise and him at work. He hadn’t been home to see his parents in a while, however, sometimes he felt like they didn’t really want him to visit. Once he dropped out of Law school, he was afraid to go home because he wasn’t sure what their reactions would be. He knew it was the right choice, but that left Dan on his lonesome for most nights and days off. Luckily for him, he rarely was at home, which would also explain the mess.

He kicked off his wet shoes and headed for the bedroom to strip and shower. All the while, thinking about how he would spend his weekend.

Phil Lester usually released his new novels at the end of November and that meant Dan still had a month left to wait for the next in the series. This also meant that Dan had spent nearly a year with the last one. He had read it more times than the others, probably because he thought it was the best one. The perfect balance of adventure, romance, and mystery. Phil was good at that. Leaving people on the edge of their seats.

Dan did not understand why more people didn’t read Phil Lester’s novels. He wasn’t terribly popular and it was kind of by chance that Dan found his novels in the first place. He was hanging out in the library after his A-Level exams, helping the librarian organize a few of their shelves when he stumbled upon a box of books that had never been checked out and were being sent to the local thrift shop. Dan remembered thinking that no book belongs in a thrift shop and he dug through the box in search of a few he could save from their eternal dusty shelf life. Phil Lester’s first book sat at the bottom of the box underneath the rest. The cover was green and blue and there was a gnarly picture of a dragon. He flipped it over and read the back, instantly intrigued.

Striker is in danger, but nobody will believe him. What happens when you’re being hunted by a killer that nobody can see? Battling an invisible force, tackling an unexpected dragon and possibly sparking a romance with his partner Samuel, Striker leaves home and does his best to survive. Will he convince people that he’s trying to be a hero, or is he destined to be a flop who’s imagination runs wild?

Phil’s books were always so action packed and interesting, laced with a little bit of humor and dorkiness. Not to mention, Phil’s characters were always gay, which was hard to find in the library in 2008. As expected, he read the whole thing in one night and absolutely loved it. The day after, he spent hours trying to learn about the author. Sadly, Phil was quite shy about his appearance and he never let himself behind a camera. Nobody knew what he looked like or what his life was like. Aside from the obvious speculations from his writing that perhaps he was gay, there wasn’t much out there about him. Dan was thrilled when he found out there would be a new novel each year, essentially falling in love with an author for one reason and one reason only - his novels seemed to speak directly to Dan Howell.

As he stood under the water in the shower, he thought about spending the weekend re-reading a few of his novels. Maybe revisiting the first, just in preparation for the new one. God, how lame was Dan Howell? Rereading the same series of books over and over again.

That’s what you get when your best friend is an author you’ve never met.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, preparing for a weekend of hot cocoa and Phil Lester.

“You mean to tell me, that you did literally nothing this weekend? You just read some stupid books?” Louise teased. She always told him that he took a healthy thing and turned it into the most unhealthy hobby in the world. Reading was supposed to expand the mind, however, by rereading the same novels and practically memorizing their entire plot line, he was only turning his mind to mush. Or so Louise said. He knew she was kind of right, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was Phil trash number one and nothing could change that.

“I had fun. Is that what you want to hear?” Dan mocked as he tied his black apron around his waist. “You told me to have fun and that’s exactly what I did.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I know,” Dan admitted, not even trying to argue.“You were the one who gave me the days off. I didn’t ask for a weekend out on the town!” He playfully pushed her and she sighed. “Now if you’re done judging my social life, then how about you tell me about the new guy?”

Louise looked at him with slitted eyes, clearly not finished with the conversation they were having, but her eyes softened a moment later when it seemed she remembered their new employee.

“Oh, he’s a sweetheart. He was very nice. I’m sure you two will get along,” she praised, wiping down the counter they stood behind, getting the surface ready for some snickerdoodles.

“Ah, he’s nice. So is my mom’s dog,” Dan rolled his eyes. “Come on, Louise! How old is he? Is he tall? Does he have purple eyes and a seven-foot beard? You have to give me something here!”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. He’s coming in at 11:00,” she teased, sticking her tongue out. So this was revenge for the wasted weekend. Dan knew Louise’s game. Dan glanced at the clock. It was 7:30.  “Besides, I’ll leave the getting to know each other part for you to figure out. As long as he can make coffee, sweep the floors and work a register, I don’t care what he does in his spare time. I didn’t ask.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m your boss.”

“I know. And every day I’m getting closer to the day I quit.”

“You’ll never quit Howell. I think you would die if you had to leave this place.” Louise’s tone was laced with a tone that wasn’t there before. She was a mother to a child named Darcy, a beautiful young girl who had golden locks like her mother. Louise was used to being protective and protective she was. She mothered Dan as much as she mothered her own kin, so sometimes, when she talked about his future and he mentioned he wanted to work at The Brew Bean for another ten years, she always tried to convince him to do something else. Something more worth his time. But Dan, as usual, would roll his eyes and tell her that it didn’t matter. Money is money and he liked serving coffee. He was more at home in this coffee shop than he ever felt anywhere else. “Now go take the chairs off the tables before we open at 8:00 or I will make you quit today.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The hours inched by slowly. The usual morning rush hit them a little earlier than they were used to. Mondays were rough for everyone and usually, a cup of Joe will do the trick. Dan was making pot after pot while Louise worked the register. Once business slowed, Dan cleaned the tables for the next lunch rush as he prepared another pot for himself and the new guy, who would be coming in any minute.

“I’m gonna go sit in the back and read. Let me know when I’m needed for training,” Dan announced, once all of the post-morning rush chores were done. Louise raised her eyebrows while she counted their tips for the morning in an effort to tell Dan it was fine. It’s not like he didn’t do this every day or anything.

Dan cracked the weathered spine of the book he’d read at least 30 times over, skipping straight to his favorite scene in chapter 13. It was his favorite after all.

Striker’s blade had dulled and the wind was picking up. Most would say that he was at a disadvantage, however, he knew that nothing could stop him. He was being fueled by something impossible to dull. The feeling of a full heart and the ghost of a pair of lips on his own. He sat beside a tree that was twisting up to the heavens. Something about the knots in the trunk told Striker that this tree was ancient. His grandmother, a rumored psychic, told him that old trees were good luck on an adventure. Stroking it gently, he looked at his reflection in the sword. His own blue eyes seemed rather dull, like his blade, in comparison to the brown eyes he was just looking into. Even though Samuel was worlds away, it was like he was right beside him on this quest for-

“Dan!” Louise called from the front. Dan startled a little, admittedly getting into the book as if it were the first time he’d ever read it. “Get out of the closet.”

Dan cringed. He knew it was a joke, Louise knew full well that he was gay and already out of the closet, but every time she needed him, she said the same five words. He only hoped that nobody heard her.

He closed the book, not needing a bookmark because he knew exactly where he was, and slid it on the shelf next to the pile of boxes he was just sitting upon. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, sighing and pulling his lanky body from the quiet of the storage closet. As he walked towards the front, he heard a chipper Louise talking to someone.

He rounded the corner and tried not to gasp.

His new co-worker was tall. Nearly as tall as Dan himself. Nobody was as tall as Dan. That was a feat. He walked slowly as to not draw attention to himself and observed from afar for a moment. The boy had black hair, styled exactly like Dan’s but flipped, the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen, a baby pink mouth with teeth that were only a little crooked when he smiled and a little endearing hunch that made him look like he was always ready to greet you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he nodded along to whatever Louise was saying.

Whatever Louise was saying, was actually about Dan. “…he always just sits in the back and reads his stupid novels. That boy is obsessed with this one author, I don’t remember who-”

Phil’s eyes turned and met Dan’s, who’s mouth quivered up into a smile. He wasn’t nervous, just a little shocked that someone this pretty wanted to work for The Brew Bean in the first place. Louise turned around and her smile brightened.

“Ah! The man himself! Dan, this is Phil. He’s your new grunt,” She winked and referenced the word he used yesterday and Dan’s cheeks went a rosy pink. Great. Now Phil thought he was an asshole. He extended his hand for a shake and Phil’s soft warm one found it.

“Hi. I promise I said that in the most loving way possible,” he tried to claim. “And your name is Phil? That’s funny. One of my fav-”

“As much as I’d love to witness the construction of you two’s friendship…” Louise started, receiving Dan’s little smirk and the roll of his eyes clearly, “We have a lunch rush to prepare for. Dan, why don’t you show Phil where everything is?”

“Sure.” Dan smiled and nodded, giving the new guy a look of ‘I swear you’ll get used to her’.

He watched Louise walk away and Phil’s eyes land on his own. He considered finishing his little fun fact but then realized that this guy wouldn’t care that his name was the same as some random author of Dan’s adolescent years. He silently thanked Louise for interrupting him in the first place.

“So it’s all pretty self-explanatory. The coffee machine is there, we have different roasts so as long as we rebrew one when it’s out, we should never really run out of coffee.” He pointed to the two coffee makers on the left with the green lids. “These are decaf. Make sure not to mix the two up, because trust me when I say Mr. Jenkins will be angry if he doesn’t get his morning caffeine.” Dan laughed a little at his own joke, thankfully Phil followed and chuckled as well. “This is the register, I’ll teach you how to use that later. It’s pretty simple. You just basically punch a bunch of numbers and hope the drawer will pop open.”

Phil followed him back towards the storage area and opened the closet door.

“This is where we have extra bags of coffee, cups, dishes, and anything that can be stored without a fridge. Then the cold stuff goes in the fridge up front,” he closed the door and walked around to the dish station. “And that’s where we clean shit. But hopefully, they won’t make you do the grunt work today. Despite what I said.” Dan smiled and crossed his arms. “That will be my job tonight.”

Phil laughed and looked at his feet while nodding.

“That is the floor. We clean it once a day,” Dan smirked. “Don’t look at it too closely though and definitely don’t eat anything that drops on it.”

“Noted,” Phil said, removing his eyes from the floor and meeting Dan’s. Dan looked around to see if there was anything else he needed to show Phil, eventually leading him back up front.

“So I guess you’ll be shadowing me today then.” He looked around for Louise and saw no sight of her. She was most likely in the office sorting out schedules. Now that there was another human on board, she would have to remake their usual schedule. “Have any questions?”

Phil looked contemplative for a moment and then he shook his head.

“Great! Making my job easier,” Dan said as he slumped back against the counter. “So.” He pushed his lips into a straight line, giving his dimple a cameo. “What brings you here, Phil?”

For what seemed like no reason, Phil’s face fell and it looked like he was struggling with something to say. Dan’s eyes expanded slightly as he tried to figure out why that question would warrant such a response. He was good at small talk because that’s what he did all day. Nobody has ever made a face like that when he asked that. Usually, the answer is “a cup of Joe” or “I have some time to kill.” He supposed that Phil’s answer would be different because he was an employee and not just someone coming in to buy a coffee.

“Sorry, you don’t have to-”

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck,” the guy said, his eyes finding Dan’s again, the light somehow lesser than before. “But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan frowned. “Well that’s a bummer, what do you do?”

Phil looked like he was about to answer when the sound of a string of bells signaled the presence of a customer.

“Hold that thought.” Dan swiveled and faced the register, his mouth turning up into a smile as he greeted the young lady. “Hi! Welcome to The Brew Bean. What can I get you?”

After paying for two coffees and insisting her date was on his way, she went to sit down by the window.

“Not sure why everyone who shows up alone needs to insist their date is on the way. I don’t care,” Dan laughed, directing this comment at Phil who also chuckled. He got a mug from the cart beneath the machines and poured the woman her coffee. “You want to bring it to her?”

Phil nodded and took the coffee. Just before Dan let go, Phil’s arm wobbled a little and he almost lost the cup completely. Thank goodness Dan was still holding on.

“Woah. You got it?” His eyes crinkled with the question, his teeth showing in a friendly smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to balance like five cups at a time. It doesn’t take long to become a coffee juggler.”

Phil flashed him a worried glance, something Dan read as ‘I’m too clumsy for that’ and as Phil walked slowly to the table with the coffee, Dan knew he read right. This guy was going to break some mugs. Dan could tell.

Surprisingly, he made it to the table no problem, smiling at the woman and striking up a little conversation. Dan couldn’t hear much but he admired the boy’s charisma. He seemed to really like to chat, especially with strangers. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe Louise would finally get off his back about the reading thing if he could make a little work friend while he was here.

“He’s a cutie, isn’t he?” Louise popped out of nowhere and made Dan jump. They were both watching Phil explain something to this woman who was laughing hysterically as Phil waved his arms around in front of her. Dan didn’t even register that he was nodding. “Don’t think I missed your little heart eyes. Something tells me you find him attractive?”

“Shut up…” Dan said, but he didn’t mean it. She was right. She was always right.

“It’s a good thing he’s single,” Louise piped in. Dan’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“How do you know?” he asked as Louise just smiled.

“What kind of questions do you think I have to ask during an interview?” She said, a mischievous tone in her voice now. “I need to know if there are any outside factors that might affect a work schedule.”

“You’re terrible! Who let you open this place in the first place?” Dan asked, his cheeks returning to the normal shade after a dangerous thought he had about his brand new co-worker.

“I don’t know. But don’t tell me you didn’t want to hear that,” Louise waggled her eyebrows at him and he shook his head, turning away from her and towards the coffee maker, checking to make sure it was still hot. “Maybe you should ask if he wants to get coffee sometime.”

Dan shook his head.

“Mmhmm, yeah, sure. Hey, Phil, I know we both work in a coffee shop but how would you like to go get some coffee with me sometime?”

“I would love to,” a voice that was certainly not Louise’s answered behind him. Dan spun around and his wide eyes met Phil’s dazzling blue ones. He blinked a couple of times, forgetting the question he just asked and then smiled, trying to cover up how startled he was. “Unless that question was meant for another Phil…in which I’ll just leave you to it.”

Dan huffed out a laugh and nodded. He thought about the other Phil in his life and bit his lip as he imagined what it would be like asking that Phil out. This Phil was far less scary.

“No, no. You’re the right Phil,” he smiled brighter, promising to kill Louise later, putting his nerves aside. “I have to close tonight. Why don’t you stick around and we can do coffee before we both leave?”

Phil beamed and he nodded.

“Not gonna lie, I thought it would take at least a few weeks for you to ask me out,” Phil smirked, his tooth finding his own lip and his cheeks flushing a little. “Plus, I’d love to get to know you. All I know is that apparently, you’re a giant nerd.”

“Louise…” Dan cursed, his hands landing on his hips. “It’s true. I am. But she makes it sound so lame.”

“She said something about Mario Kart expansion packs…?” Phil teased. “Please tell me she’s not direct quoting here?”

Dan rolled his eyes and let out a familiar laugh.

The rest of their shift ran pretty smoothly. Phil stuck to Dan’s side like glue, his eyes intently watching as Dan did everything. Lucky for Dan, he was rather confident about his barista skills. He’d been doing it for long enough anyway. Phil or no Phil, he always did his best to please every customer.

He kept himself talking about the job, explaining to Phil what his duties would be once he actually started, giving him instructions as he went about his daily tasks. He also shared some stories about some of the customers he’s had to deal with in the past. He warned Phil about the regulars, telling him that some were a nightmare and would be able to tell if their coffee didn’t have exactly four sugars.

Louise left around 5:00 pm, leaving Dan and Phil to close the store at 8:00. Usually, on a Monday, they didn’t get many people after 7:00 and Phil was a huge help with the closing duties. They pretty much put everything away except for one coffee machine that they left up and running and one table that they planned to sit at for a bit after they closed.

“I think we can probably flip the sign now. I don’t think anyone else is coming in,” Dan said as he checked the clock on the register. “Will you do that for me? Lock the door and all that?”

Phil nodded and saluted him, his eyes bright and his smile warm.

Dan hadn’t really thought about the ‘date’ he was about to go on, but he smiled when he realized how cute this man was. His mind was on training, not romance, but now that they were nearly done, he was starting to get nervous. He hadn’t been on a date since secondary school and although this was usually something he would be stressing out about, there was something about Phil that seemed so familiar and bright. Comforting to the degree that Dan wasn’t really scared at all. He had the confidence to train the man, how hard could going on a date really be?

When Phil skipped back up to the counter, instead of going around it to where they had been standing all day, he put his elbow down against the wooden bar and leaned against it. “Hello. I would like to place an order for two coffees, one for me and one for my date who…” Phil turned and looked towards the door. “Is on his way.”

Dan tried not to smile, but he couldn’t not laugh at that. He raised his eyebrows and tried really hard to give Phil a look of disappointment for doing exactly what that lady had done before, but it just looked fond.

“Sure thing,” Dan responded, sighing and getting out two mugs from beneath the counter. “But for future reference, I don’t care that your date is on his way. That’s none of my business.”

Phil frowned playfully.

“Excuse me sir, but I am a customer!” Phil role-played. “I deserve your full respect. In fact, who’s in charge here!? I’d like to speak to them, please!”

Dan couldn’t believe he was going through this right now. Not even Louise would pull this little game and Dan was loving it.

“I’m in charge here. And unless that date of yours is coming from inside the building, it seems the door has been locked,” Dan teased. “Looks like you’ll have to drink both coffees by yourself.”

Dan placed the two fresh coffees on the counter in front of Phil and he smirked down at them.

“Well…” he hesitated and gestured toward their soon-to-be table. “Now that I don’t have a date, care to sit?”

Dan grinned. God this man had a way with words. No wonder Dan found him so attractive. He loved a man with a fanciful imagination.

“I guess you’ve left me no choice.” Dan gave in to the fake argument and nodded his head once to signal the win. “Why don’t you sit down. I’ll bring you your drink.”

Phil stared at Dan for one more moment with a touch of light behind his eyes, only to turn and stride towards the last table that was set up in the dining room. Dan watched him for a second before grabbing the two cups and following him over to the seat that Phil had kindly pulled out for Dan.

“Why thank you,” Dan played along, sitting his ass down and waiting for Phil to sit across from him. When he finally sat, their eyes made contact and the two just broke into laughter.

For a whole minute, they laughed, Dan’s head ending up on the table. This guy was amazing! They got along so well it was almost unbelievable. Here’s to hoping the date goes as well as their shift did.

“So Dan,” Phil said, sipping his coffee with tentative lips. The coffee was hot and Phil was no doubt doing this for comedic effect.

“So Phil.”

“Tell me. What is a man like you, doing in a place like this?” Phil asked, Dan’s threshold for cheesy questions was usually pretty low, but for Phil, he’d allow it. “Maybe I should start with asking how old you are?”

“Twenty-three.” Dan got the easier answer out of the way while he thought about a better answer for the first question. “And I’ve lived in Manchester for about four years now, I’ve worked here for just as long, and I like it here so I see no reason to leave.”

“That’s fair,” Phil added. “It’s a nice place.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose your job,” Dan guessed, smirking as he did. He wasn’t touching his coffee just yet, knowing how hot it was when it first came from the pot.

“No seriously. I could have chosen anywhere to work and I chose this place for two reasons. 80% of the reason was that I love coffee more than life itself, but I can assure you, 19% of the reason was for the aesthetic,” Phil said proudly.

“And the leftover 1%?”

“The barista was pretty cute.” Phil’s tone deepened when he said it, his eyes flashing Dan with a little bit of mischief.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” Phil nodded.

“So you’ve been here before?” Dan asked, curious how he missed such a beautiful man. The place was small. He worked every day. He was sure he would have noticed someone like Phil.

“Months ago…” Phil traced circles on the table in front of him. “I have been kind of stuck at home the last few months…working.” He sighed. “I used to come here with my mother. But she hasn’t…made it down here in a while.”

“Well maybe now that you work here, she’ll stop by!” Dan smiled, finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip.

“Maybe…” Phil looked like the little touch of sadness had flooded behind his eyes again and Dan wished only to make it go away. He changed the subject.

“So you know I’m a nerd. Am I looking at another nerd or is it just me?” Dan asked, hoping to lighten the conversation. It seemed to work as Phil kind of chuckled.

“Are you asking if I have any Mario Kart expansion packs you can borrow?”

“I’m asking for a friend.”

Phil laughed.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd,” Phil admitted. “Okay…maybe I’m a huge nerd. But don’t tell Louise because I see the way she talks about you and your ‘reading’ hobby.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, what did she say, that I’m turning my brain to mush with all the books I read?”

“Well, not those words exactly, but yes. Something of the like.” Phil smiled compassionately at Dan. “For the record, I don’t think reading is a waste of time. It’s a great way to escape.”

“Exactly!” Dan was glad that Phil wasn’t going to judge him for his reading habits. He didn’t need another person to criticize him for his one and only hobby. “I don’t have a lot of-” Friends. “…social obligations. So I spend a lot of time reading.”

“I totally understand. I’m the same way,” Phil’s eyes were soft and understanding. Dan wondered what kind of books Phil liked to read, but he felt like that might be a strange question to ask, especially when he didn’t know Phil all that well.

“Well, I hope you won’t find it offensive if I’m off reading while we wait out those slow days. I would bring a book too if I were you. You’ll probably need it and Louise doesn’t like us using our phones on the job.”

“But she lets you read?” Phil gasped. “Shocker.”

“She’s a strange one…if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Phil nodded. “But she seems sweet.”

“She is.”

There was a moment of silence while they both sipped their coffee, enjoying the sound of an empty coffee shop. Dan looked out the window and noticed how dark it had gotten and he fought a yawn. He wasn’t tired, but usually, he was well on his way to his own apartment by now. With very little friends, he didn’t have much of a reason to stay up late. He was generally in bed by 12:00 am at the latest. After having a cheeky scroll through the internet or playing a bit of Guild Wars by himself, he clocked out rather early.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked while he was thinking about his apartment.

“Are you asking me to take you home? And on the first date as well?” Phil pretended to be appalled at the boy’s forward question. Dan’s cheeks became flushed and he hoped the low lighting would hide the color.

“N-no, I just didn’t know if you lived far or-”

Phil seemed to realize his flustered behavior and corrected himself gently.

“Sorry. I was joking,” he laughed it off. “Yeah, I live a couple blocks away.”

“Oh. You’re closer than I am. I have to take a bus. Or else I have to walk about 30 minutes,” Dan said, suddenly realizing that he had missed the last bus and he was going to have to do that walk tonight. He didn’t mind as it was pretty nice out, but he wasn’t necessarily planning on having to account for that this evening. “I was closer when I went to school at Manchester.”

“You went to Manchester?” Phil’s face lit up. “What for?”

“Law.”

Phil’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Dan to get it.

“I know, I know. I don’t look like a lawyer.” He put his head in his hands and shook it. “That’s why I dropped out.”

“Ah.” Phil nodded, without following the one syllable reaction with a question like why or will you ever go back? That was nice of him.

Dan could feel this conversation going in a direction he didn’t want it to go to, so he changed the subject again by asking about Phil.

“So how old are you, then? Because if I had to guess, I would assume like, 24.”

“Wow! Thanks!” Phil exclaimed, his hands clasping together. “I’m 27. But I hope I stay looking young forever!” He leaned in closer to Dan. “I’ll tell you a secret if you want.”

“Shoot.” Dan leaned in to meet him. Their noses were only inches apart and Dan’s eyes flicked down to Phil’s lips. He hoped Phil hadn’t noticed.

“My grandmother was a psychic…” Phil started. “And she looked young until the day she died. She always said that her psychic powers transferred down to me. I’m hoping the ‘looking young’ thing also runs in the family.”

He leaned back in his chair and Dan slowly leaned back into his. His eyebrows furrowed. He swore there was something familiar about that secret, but he didn’t quite know where to pin it.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dan said. “That your grandma was a psychic, I mean. A lot of people don’t believe in that stuff.”

“I do.” Phil said, far too quickly. “Most say I have quite the imagination.”

“Me too.”

“You must. Especially if you read as much as I’m getting the impression you do,” Phil assumed, giving Dan a shrug. “Let me guess. Fantasy is your genre?”

Dan’s smile grew.

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” Phil was slipping the last of his coffee into his mouth, tilting his head back to get it all from the mug. “Plus, I know fantasy. Fantasy and I are great friends.”

Dan laughed at the way Phil phrased that. It’s funny because he always said the same thing.

It was then that he decided it would be worth sharing a little about his hobby. He could trust Phil, right? He wouldn’t make fun of him. Not if they shared the same friend.

“You know what’s funny?” Dan asked, anticipating that Phil would want to know what he was silently chuckling about a moment before.

“Hm?”

“I have this author. One that writes this amazing series. And at this point, I’ve read his books so many times, that I would consider him a friend,” Dan laughed at himself. Saying it out loud made it seem so childish. Like he fostered some imaginary friend in his mind that he talked to when he was alone. “His writing just speaks to me. As if it were written directly for my ears…er…eyes.”

Phil was looking at him with curiosity.

“God, I wish I had readers like you…” Phil said quietly, his eyes going to his lap.

“Huh?”

Phil paused for a moment and then returned his gaze to Dan, his smile not quite as full as it was only moments before.

“I dabble a little in the writing department,” Phil spoke slowly like he was being careful with his words. Like he was embarrassed to admit this secret. Dan’s eyes lit up.

“You do?”

“Yeah…but I don’t have nearly the following as it seems your favorite has,” Phil said sadly. “That’s actually why um…” He cleared his throat. “Why I had to get another job. My books aren’t selling as much as I wish.” He laughed a little at himself. “But who’s books are, right?”

Dan was looking at Phil with concern. He looked like he was hiding something. Something deep beneath the surface. Something behind the blue eyes and the pristine personality.

“To be fair, the series I’m into isn’t even that popular. I just…really love the writing and the stories are just…” Dan looked up to find the words. “So captivating.” His cheeks felt warm as if his body was rewarding him for praising his favorite. “I can’t stop reading his books. Over and over and over again.”

Phil nodded and looked at his empty cup. Dan hoped he wasn’t making him feel bad. He didn’t want Phil to feel like his books weren’t good enough. He didn’t want Phil to think that Dan wasn’t interested. Instead of changing the subject this time, he decided to ask what he thought might brighten Phil’s mood.

“What uh…what’s your last name? Maybe I can check out your books sometime. I’m sure you’re a really great writer! I’ve been reading the same books over and over again. So maybe it’s time I find some better material,” Dan joked, knowing inside that nothing could ever come before his favorite author. But if it made Phil feel better, if it made Phil’s smile come back, then it was worth the trouble of at least peeling back a cover.

“Oh, uh, Lester,” Phil mumbled, his eyes darting out the window as if he was embarrassed to speak his own name.

Dan’s face paled.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

There was absolutely no fucking way.

Not a chance

The Phil sitting across from him, the Phil he had been training all day, the Phil he was currently on a date with…was the Phil that he had been gushing over since he was 17.

No fucking way.

This Phil was the same Phil who invented the most captivating series Dan had ever read.

This Phil was the same Phil that built a world of dragons and demons and all sorts of creatures that Dan only dreamt of learning more about.

This Phil was the same Phil that had been his best friend when nobody else had wanted to be.

This Phil was the same Phil that was now looking at him with concern written all over his face.

“Dan?” He asked, probably noticing how pale Dan had gotten and how his hands were shaking as they held the mug.

“Uhhh-…I uh…I need to…hangononesecond,” Dan muttered, getting up and scooting his chair with a loud screech. “Berightback.”

Phil looked alarmed as Dan darted back behind the counter and out of sight so he could have a moment to breathe. This was certainly not how he expected to meet his idol. Not this casually at least. He opened the storage closet and sat on the box that had dented from his earlier sit. He took a number of deep breaths as his eyes landed on the little blue and green book that was tucked onto a shelf beneath the spare cups. His shaky hand reached for the tattered book, the first book he ever owned of Phil’s, and he flipped through the first few pages.

He could not believe this was happening.

But at the same time, it made so much sense. Phil was actually the spitting image of his character. Striker was described as tall and raven-haired, his skin pale and his eyes blue. Dan had always assumed that Phil modeled the character after himself but it didn’t click until now how much Phil looked like the character he had fallen in love with.

He felt stupid now.

However, as much as he wanted to sit and hyperventilate until Phil eventually left him, he figured it would be rude to leave him with zero explanation. So with eight more deep breaths, he hugged the novel to his chest and left the closet for the second time that day. This time, with much less confidence.

He reappeared behind the counter where he could see Phil slumping in the chair and stirring Dan’s coffee with a spoon. He looked confused and possibly a little offended. Dan’s heart hurt knowing that he had done that to his favorite author.

He walked over and sat back down, the book falling into his lap where Phil couldn’t see it and he watched as Phil looked up at him with the most confused expression Dan had ever seen on another human being.

“I don’t know much about you Dan, but does that happen a lot because if it does I need to be prepared for next time you-”

“Phil.” Dan’s words came out so quietly. He was saying Phil’s name. Phil Lester’s name. Holy shit. This was a lot to handle. He was surprised he was even able to speak at all. In his dreams, the ones where he met Phil, he could never talk. Not even in his dreams did he had this opportunity.

He decided that words weren’t even his best plan of attack. He had no idea what to say or how to explain, so he just got a firm grip on the book with his one hand, pushed his coffee cup out of the way and then slowly brought the book up to the table. He placed it down gently, watching as Phil’s eye actually twitched.

He stared for a long time. A longer time than Dan had taken to himself in the closet. Dan wasn’t going to question it, but Phil looked like he was concentrating very hard. He seemed to be piecing things together in his mind. He was most likely taking in the age of the book, the weathered condition, the many many doggy ears on the corners, the coffee stains on the sides, the destroyed spine and the book’s presence in the first place. All these things could tell you one thing and one thing only. Dan fucking loved that book. If this was the same Phil that Dan had grown up reading, he was getting that impression and Dan was so damn nervous.

Then Dan froze. He had been subtly watching Phil watch the book and Phil, who was sporting a rather blank expression, was now tearing up and a drop of salty water hit the table. Dan would have gasped if he didn’t think the noise would break the man before him.

Phil’s tears only multiplied and suddenly, Dan was staring at a 27-year-old genius who was crying on a date. Who the fuck knew Dan’s evening would go like this?

After a significant period of time, Dan spoke up. If only to make this less awkward.

“Phil…are you uh…okay?”

Phil slowly raised his eyes to Dan and a smile formed on his quivering lips. “Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry I’m just thinking…” His voice was weak and trembling, his eyes filled with light once again. “…thinking about the things you said about-” He pointed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my books.”

Dan blinked. No way. Phil was an amazing writer.

“Do…do you really do that? R-read my books over and over again?”

Dan nodded like it was second nature. He couldn’t believe that was a question that Phil even dared to ask. Of course, he did. Phil Lester was his absolute favorite.

Phil nodded and he sat for a moment more before standing up abruptly and staring at Dan. Dan blinked up at him and smiled. The best smile he could. Before Phil came at him with a hug. He practically pulled Dan out of his seat and up into a standing position where Phil could embrace him into a warm and appreciating hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Phil mumbled into Dan’s shoulder, his lips moving against Dan’s collar bone. “You don’t have any idea what that means to me.”

Dan didn’t know what to say, so he mumbled an “of course” and rubbed Phil’s back gently.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that fate worked out this way!” Phil’s smile was back and he was gripping Dan by his biceps, his whole entire face glowing. If Dan hadn’t just seen the tears, he would have assumed that none had been shed that night. He blinked a few times and he nodded. “I have met my biggest fan!”

Dan blushed.

“Imagine how I feel…” he stammered, glancing down at the book on the table. Phil’s smile fell from his face, but not in a bad way. He just seemed to realize the gravity of this situation from Dan’s eyes. Then he broke out into a laugh.

“Oh my Gosh! You’re dating your idol!”

Dan blushed even more.

“That is…” Phil’s cheeks colored. “That is if I get a second date?” He bit his lip. “Usually, when people cry on first dates, they don’t get a call back…”

Dan tried to glare at Phil but it just turned out to be a look of fondness, one he’s been shooting Phil all day.

“I don’t know…a chance to spend more time with Phil Lester?” Dan pondered aloud. “Not sure if it’s worth it…”

Phil playfully pouted.

“I know how we can find out if it is worth it!” Phil grinned, his face up to no good.

Dan was about to ask when Phil stepped closer, his body flushing up to Dan’s front.

No.

No way.

Then Phil did the unimaginable. He leaned forward and connected his lips to Dan’s and Dan felt like his whole body exploded. He had no idea what happened. His eyes shut and bright colors filled the black that he usually stared at when he closed his lids over his brown eyes. Phil’s lips felt like an escape, much like the pages of the books he wrote. Dan was lapping up the warmth when Phil gently pulled away, a smile reforming on his perfect lips as he touched his nose to Dan’s.

“I knew I’d find a Samuel one day…”

Dan’s stomach dropped to the floor and Phil laughed.

“Come on, we have a coffee shop to close!” He gave one last glance at the book sitting on the table, smiled brightly and then he picked up the coffee cups. “I’ll go wash these. Why don’t you clean off this table and we’ll lock up.”

Dan could only nod and he picked up the book, his mouth still open with delight.

He was not convinced that the past 12 hours had actually happened. He was not convinced that he was actually ‘dating’ the Phil Lester he had wondered about when he was young. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t had dreams like this. Granted, he didn’t know what Phil looked like, but the version in his head was modeled from Striker and it was scary how close to the real thing he had gotten. Weird images of past dreams flashed in his head and he couldn’t express how long he had wanted to be Striker’s Samuel.

But now…now he had it better.

He was Phil Lester’s Dan.

He could not even fathom what kind of luck he must have had to achieve his one and only dream. Not only to achieve it - meeting Phil Lester - but surpass it - dating Phil Lester.

What a world he lived in.

“You ready?” Phil asked as he broke Dan from the spell he was under. He was staring out at the dark street in front of the shop while Phil ran and made sure all the lights were off. Dan nodded and reached for the key that Louise had given him a few year back so that he could lock up without her. He locked the front door behind him and turned to face Phil.

“So…” Dan started, it suddenly dawned on him that he’d have to leave the boy here and walk in the other direction. Not to mention, he had about 30 minutes to walk by himself and he was kind of dreading it. All he wanted was to lay down on his cheap twin bed and think about the evening he had just had. “I guess I’ll see you…next time you work?”

Phil blinked back at him, as if tiny little cogs were spinning in his head.

“How far did you say you lived from here?” Phil asked, glancing up the street.

“Oh uh…like 30 minutes. I usually take the bus but…” Dan’s voice trailed off as he gestured to the abandoned street and the flickering street lamp.

Phil was silent for a moment and then Dan was watching as he stepped closer.

“Call me crazy…but I don’t really like the idea of you walking all of that way.” The words tumbled from his mouth as he didn’t break the eye contact that Dan was holding so dearly. “I know it’s only the first date, although you have technically known me for years, what do you say about coming home and spending the night on my couch?”

Dan blanked.

“It’s only a couple blocks and I have plenty of room…” Phil convinced, bumping his shoulder into Dan’s.

It’s not like this night could have gotten anymore fantastical. He might as well. Phil could have said anything at this point and Dan would have blindly followed him. So he nodded and Phil’s face lit up for the millionth time that night.

“Swell! Well, let’s get going then!” Before Dan could say anything else at all, Phil clutched Dan’s hand and started dragging him in the direction of his place. Dan blushed severely and listened to Phil talk about the how much he loved the city at night.

When they arrived at Phil’s place, Phil unlocked the door of the tiny townhouse and he creaked it open. He turned to Dan and his face went very somber, if only for a moment.

“Make sure you’re quiet. I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ll explain once we get into the basement,” Phil instructed. If this was some stranger, Dan might have considered this sentence as a red flag. But this was Phil. Of course, this would be completely normal.

He followed Phil through the house and when the basement door shut and they were officially downstairs, the light flicked on and Dan could immediately get a peek at Phil’s life. The life he knew nothing about until today. It was surrounding him. The blue and green sheets on the bed matched the blue and green on the cover of Phil’s first book, his desk in the corner was exactly what a writer’s desk might look like - with crumbled pieces of paper littering the floor and everything, the walls were covered in posters of great movies and awesome music, and there was even a little lounge where it seems Phil liked to sit and play various video games on the systems that Dan could see sitting pretty under the TV.

“You like my bachelor pad?” Phil laughed, walking over to the tiny fridge and getting Dan a bottle of water.

“I do…” Dan responded, not even considering that Phil’s question was most likely sarcastic.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Phil exclaimed, flopping himself down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Dan could feel his feet moving to go sit next to him as he looked around the giant room some more. “I was going to move…but some uh…some plans changed and now I’m kind of stuck here for a little longer.”

Dan didn’t ask because it didn’t seem Phil wanted to explain, but he nodded in response and took a sip from the water bottle he was given. His eyes landed on the Wii that looked to still be on and he nudged Phil.

“Wanna play some Mario Kart?” He wasn’t even considering how late it was or that he was going to have to be at work the next day at 7:00 am. He just wanted to play Mario Kart with Phil and if he was tired tomorrow, he would just have to deal. Not to mention, he’d be waking up on Phil Lester’s couch.

Phil agreed and confirmed Dan’s theory about the Wii still being on when he turned on the TV and a screen full of characters appeared before them.

“I was playing before I left for work today,” Phil admitted, laughing when it showed that he was about to select Bowser. “But I bet you already assumed that.”

They started a race and Dan kicked Phil’s ass. But Dan could admit, Phil gave him a good fight. Dan was just really really good at Mario Kart. With all his ‘free time’, he played plenty and he was unusually savvy with a Wii remote.

“Alright, alright, you beat me fair and square,” Phil gave up after playing about 17 rounds and losing each one. After every single round, he begged Dan for a do-over and insisted that it was “all or nothing.” Dan was too good though and each time, he made it over the finish line before Phil could even catch up.

It wasn’t until Phil switched off the TV and there was silence in the room that Dan realized how close they were. Dan was leaning up against Phil - leftover from when he was trying to mess up the older boy with a jolt to the arm, and Phil’s arm was overlapping Dan’s shoulder. Dan wasn’t complaining and when Phil turned his head to face Dan, it seemed he made the same realization.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Phil said, his cheeks getting pink. “I really needed someone like you in my life right now.”

“Th-thanks?” Dan said, hesitant to take a compliment. He’s the one that should be thanking Phil.

Phil was silent for a moment while it looked like he fished around in Dan’s eyes. Then his eyebrows went up and there was a small smirk resting on his face.

“Okay. Clearly, we are going to have to talk about the elephant in the room. I don’t want you throwing those googly eyes at me every second. Please, ask me what you want about my books now so that we can put this weird little fangirling thing we’ve got going on behind us,” Phil said, his words dripping with fondness, yet Dan was totally caught off guard. He wasn’t staring at Phil like that because he liked his books - even though that certainly played a part in it - he was staring at Phil because he couldn’t believe that a human could be this perfect. Let alone a human that was sitting with him on the couch right now. “I’m sure you have questions. With as many plot holes as there are in my books, you’ve got to have at least something that bothers you.”

Dan hadn’t thought about it much before, but it was dawning on him that Phil wasn’t really a fan of his own writing. He wasn’t as confident as the Striker in his books and he didn’t think very highly of his own talent. To Dan, this was ridiculous. Phil Lester was the best author he knew. He was the only author Dan would read and his words were like magic as they peeled off the page and into his brain. It saddened him that Phil didn’t even consider his own writing beautiful enough to promote.

Then the conversation he had earlier with Phil hit him like a brick to the face and suddenly it didn’t matter how close the two were sitting or how perfect Phil Lester was, a sentence smacked him in the front of his brain.

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck…But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan’s eyes widened and he could tell that Phil was about to ask what was wrong.

“You aren’t writing another book?” Dan blurted out, his heart stopping for a moment while he waited for an answer.

Phil’s bubbly smile melted from his face and he looked at Dan with confusion, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how Dan had guessed that. But his shaky hand reached for his collar, adjusting it with the lightest touch.

“I don’t think I can…” Phil answered slowly, not even realizing the heart-shattering news he was delivering to the boy sitting in front of him. “It’s just…I don’t think there’s another book…in me.”

Dan’s mouth had fallen open and he was just watching Phil’s blue eyes fade to gray. His face void of all color.

“So you haven’t written a book for this November?” Dan asked, not even stopping to think that maybe it was insensitive to ask such a question.

Phil sighed and his face read that it was complicated.

“Dan…I…” He avoided all eye contact. “No.” His voice trembled. “No, I haven’t.”

Dan was beyond shocked. He wasn’t mad, because how could he be? He didn’t know what Phil’s life was like and he wasn’t trying to pressure the boy, but he was really looking forward to that next novel and now that he knew it wasn’t even in the works, a part of him started to wilt.

“I’m sorry…I just don’t think I can do it,” Phil whimpered, his hands now wringing together and his eyes starting to glisten. He looked like he had just realized something while he was admitting this fact to Dan. He looked so small all of a sudden. “You’re not like…mad or anything…?” He looked down at his hands. “…cause I didn’t know that people…” He corrected himself. “…that you liked my books. And I just haven’t really been feeling up to…” Phil spoke the last word so quietly as if he didn’t want to say it out loud in the first place. “…writing.”

Dan stared at Phil and there was clearly a backstory that he was missing. He kept having to remind himself that he’d only met Phil today an that everything he knew about the guy he was looking at, was through a character that Phil had created. Although it was somewhat based on truth, Dan couldn’t just ask a near stranger why he couldn’t write another novel. It just wasn’t polite. That, and Phil looked like he was about to break. Any second.

So Dan took something out of Phil’s book, although not literally, he went out on a whim and scooted even closer to the wilting boy and reached to caress the side of his face.

“Phil…” Dan started. “I don’t care about the book. I mean…I do…but I understand. I like you. I like you a lot. And I know it’s only been like 12 hours and I know it might be crazy, but something tells me that this has to be fate…” He swallowed a comment about how cheesy he knew he sounded and kept going. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. And not just because I like your books, but because I-” He knew sharing this next part was going to be hard, but he didn’t realize that it was going to be the first time he’d said it out loud. “I’ve never really had a best friend before and something about you just makes me feel like you’ve known me forever.”

Phil was staring at him, his eyes bouncing between Dan’s own twinkling orbs and his moving lips.

“Phil, please believe me. I was attracted to you before I knew you were the amazing Phil that I knew you were,” Dan blushed. “And if it’s any consolation…I thought you were amazing before I found out.”

Phil was no longer on the verge of tears, but his eyes were full of mirth and something that Dan had never seen on a person up close before. Something specific that he had only ever read - in Phil’s books that is. Love.

Dan knew he was bordering crazy and certainly, his wildest of dreams never unfolded this way, but he took a moment to breathe in his last sane breath and then leaned forward to kiss the boy who looked to be begging for it.

Kissing turned out to be the gateway to something more. Dan had never trod this territory before but Phil was gentle and somehow a little awkward, and about 45 minutes and a hefty amount of heavy breathing later, they were lying beside each other in Phil’s bed with little to no room between them.

Even though it was only a short walk to The Brew Bean, it felt like eons. Dan was reeling about the night before, going over it a million times and then all over again. He had spent nearly the whole night beside Phil in his bed, wearing nothing but a grin and a pair of borrowed briefs. They had talked about everything under the sun. Dan finally got to ask a few questions about Phil’s books and where he got his inspiration, and Phil asked him about Uni and why he left. They were tender subjects but between kissing and kind words, the topics didn’t seem so scary for either of them.

In the morning when Dan’s alarm went off, he woke in a startle when he realized he had fallen asleep on the chest of another man. When he looked up and saw that no, it wasn’t a dream, Phil Lester was actually asleep below him, he nearly passed out again out of amazement. Dan could still feel the way the older boy stirred beneath him and wrapped his warm arms around him as he begged the younger not to leave. But Dan was opening today and he had to get the shop before 8:00 to open up. So Phil got up and stretched his naked body in the patch of sunlight that made him look angelic and then wandered off to make them both a pot of coffee. It’s not like Dan couldn’t have waited until he got to work, but Phil seemed to need it more than he did.

Dan arrived at the shop at 7:20 which was later than he’d ever been. He usually showed up early to make sure he had time to sit and have a cup before he opened the store for others, but today he would miss that. Thank goodness Louise wasn’t here to tease him about it. At least not yet.

Of course, the girl didn’t miss anything. The moment she walked it, Dan could tell she knew something he didn’t. Maybe Dan was giving off the post-coitus vibes or maybe his face said it all, but when they had a slow second, she sauntered over to Dan and gave him an all-knowing look.

“So…” Her teeth were scraping her bottom lip as if she was refraining from saying something but Dan was clearly in trouble. “How was your night?”

A docile question for the all-knowing Louise to ask.

Dan turned to her and grinned, not even trying to mask his excitement with a sarcastic comment. There was nothing about this that screamed Dan Howell. Nothing cautious or bitter. His relationship with Phil was completely out of character. In fact, it reminded him of a different character altogether and it only made since when he realized it was Striker.

“How do you think?” Dan asked, turning away to hide the blush that was flooding his face.

“I think you need to spill because I know that blush isn’t coming from nowhere,” Louise pestered, her lips turned up in a smirk. “Phil isn’t that charming. Why are you so smitten?”

Dan wanted to argue because yes, Phil is that charming, but he decided he’d rather cut to the chase and tell Louise why Phil was especially perfect for him.

“Remember those books? The ones I read all the time?” Dan asked Louise who looked positively bothered by the fact that they were coming up now, of all times, but she nodded and listened. “Well, Phil’s the one who wrote them.”

Louise looked confused for a moment as if she were doing math in her head and trying to figure out how that was statistically possible. Dan knew that it wasn’t but it happened anyway and here he’s gone and slept with the guy. But Louise could probably read that right away.

“Oh God,” she muttered. She looked actually quite horrified.

“What?” Dan asked, worried there was something Louise hadn’t told him about Phil.

“I’m going to have to hire someone else, aren’t I?”

Dan blinked at her.

“What?”

“Dan…if he really is the love of your life, as he obviously is, then I’m gonna need another person to come in for the days you both want off,” Louise explained, thinking purely as a boss and less as a mother right now. Dan opened his mouth as if he were going to argue but because it was Phil, he didn’t want to. He knew deep down that she was right. If he was later than usual this morning and this continued on like he’d hoped, he would need a few days off in the future. For both of their sakes.

“What happened to ’you need to take more days off?‘” Dan asked, teasing the woman who stood before him. She rolled his eyes.

“Well I hired someone to take your place but now you’ve gone and seduced him.” She huffed, her fists on her hips. “I meant you needed more days off with people who didn’t work here!”

Dan found that hard to argue with. Technically, she was right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Ugh, it’s fine. I’ll find someone.” She hit a few buttons on the register, going back to work. “So I’m hoping you were safe when you-”

“Louise!”

“What? I’m just making sure…” She shot him a loving glance and then walked off. He didn’t know exactly how she could tell that he had that kind of night, but if it was written all over his face, he assumed she of all people could read it. And because Phil wrote it in the first place, it must have been good.

“You’re saying you want an entire weekend and a Monday off?” Louise asked, her mouth open and her eyebrows up higher than Dan had ever seen them. “The both of you?”

It had been two months since Dan had met Phil and things were going more fantastical since the beginning. After their first night together, Dan went home after his long shift and took a shower, starting to worry that maybe he was moving too fast. But when he got a text from Phil telling him that he missed his presence and that he wished he had someone to play Mario Kart with, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. Phil was just as into Dan as he was into Phil and it happened rapidly fast. Soon, Dan barely saw his flat and by the second week, he knew that after a long shift with or without Phil, he would end up over at Phil’s anyway.

Now, at two months, they knew each other better than they knew themselves - save for a few things. Things that Dan never tried to pressure for and thank goodness Phil didn’t push for his own skeletons in his closet. Their relationship was synonymous to an adventure novel - or so Dan thought. Phil swept him off his feet and kissed him passionately whenever he got the chance. He romanced Dan’s socks off and had a way with words that only his favorite writer could possess. Their sex was passionate and loving and every time Dan looked into Phil’s glistening eyes, he knew that Phil Lester was a wonder of a man. He single-handedly helped Dan take the simplicity of his plain life and spice it up into a novel of its own.

And that’s why Dan thought he’d return the favor.

For weeks, Dan has been talking about taking Phil away, somewhere he could think and possibly get back into the hobby that made Dan fall for Phil all those years ago. Even though Dan was falling faster everyday, dare he say in love, he still longed for Phil’s writing and now that it was almost Christmas time, he wanted to give Phil the gift of a lifetime.

“It’s just three days Lou. Come on. Didn’t you just hire that new guy, PJ?” Dan nudged her side. “And plus, when have I ever asked?”

“That’s why I’m appalled,” She shook her head, but a smile was fighting its way through her pursed lips. “I hate to say I told you so but…” She looked him right in the eye. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, so can we have off?” Dan asked again, pulling Phil closer to his side, having nearly forgotten he was standing right there in the first place. Louise looked at Phil who was no doubt grinning beside him, his sunshine of a smile sure to work wonders. With a sigh and the roll of her eyes, she nodded.

“Consider it an early Christmas gift,” she grumbled, looking back down at the task she had been doing before Dan and Phil had come up and asked her. “Where are you going anyway?”

“That, I can’t tell you,” Dan teased, glancing at Phil who crossed his arms and pouted because Dan had been very clear, he was not to know where they were going until they got there. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

She looked at the two of them and shook her head once more. “You guys make me sick.”

Dan just grinned and went back to work with Phil at his side.

“I’m sorry I’m running late. I’m just figuring a few things out. I’ll be there in an hour. Sorry Sorry!” Phil said over the phone to Dan who was literally sitting on his suitcase by his front door. Excited was an understatement. He hadn’t been on a real vacation in so long. Even though it was a week before Christmas, he was excited to spend the holiday with his boyfriend.

“That’s okay. I’m keeping myself busy anyway,” Dan lied.

“No, you aren’t. Stop waiting at the door like a lost puppy. Go read a book or something,” Phil said, probably regretting it because every time he said that, he knew Dan would listen, picking up one of the few novels he had written in the past and re-reading it. “One that isn’t mine.”

Dan whined but he agreed and went to find something a little less interesting. No book could be as interesting as Phil’s.

When Phil finally arrived, he was still a half hour later than he had mentioned being on the phone. When Dan went down to meet him on the sidewalk he was prepared to playfully scold the boy but instead he was greeted with a very grim face on his beloved who seemed to be a bit out of it.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” Dan said, first thing, getting it out of the way before they even started to walk to the train station.

“Nothing…it’s just been a rough day. I’m ready for this vacation though,” he smiled, pulling Dan into his side. Dan let the warmth of his own body comfort his boyfriend who was drooping a little more than usual today.

Here was the thing about Phil Lester. Everything about him was adventurous and spontaneous, except there was this one thing. This one thing that he never told Dan about. Dan never asked but when Phil described the thing that made him late all the time or that kept him occupied for more than one day at a time, he never gave Dan the full story. He just said it was important and that he would explain later. Phil was the kind of person that would tell Dan anything but he wouldn’t tell him this. Dan knew that must mean it was a big deal. But what could be so terrible that Phil would want to hide it from Dan? Phil knew he could trust Dan with anything. It’s not like Dan had ever judged him before. Did he have another job? Some sort of illness he needed to take care of? Another boyfriend?

Dan always made sure to stop his train of thought before it got to that point because he knew that Phil was faithful to him. There was nothing wrong with secrets. Especially if they’re painful to talk about. So Dan respected Phil’s space and didn’t ask whenever Phil showed up with the sunken-in eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept or the shaking hands that suggested he had been fidgeting a ton. He just pulled Phil close and told him it was okay, understanding that when Phil was ready, he would share that part of his life.

They walked down the pavement in silence as Phil pulled himself together and Dan swung their laced hands to cheer up his partner.

He also told Phil to wait on the platform while he went and bought their tickets, just so Phil wouldn’t know where they were headed. Phil was usually the one that decided where to go, but this weekend, Dan was calling the shots. He wanted to show Phil something he’d never shown anyone. Something almost as personal as Phil’s writing was. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Phil to start writing again.

They shuffled on the train, Dan making sure Phil couldn’t see any signs revealing their destination, and then they were both leaning on each other while the train moved away from the city of London.

“Dan…is this Manchester?” Phil said as he looked out the window. They were almost to the city and he started realizing that his surprise was going to reveal itself pretty soon. Dan shifted in his seat and nodded when Phil’s blue eyes were on him. “Like…your hometown?”

“Yeah…” Dan said, a smirk on his lips. “What other Manchester is there?”

Phil chuckled and looked out the window again.

“I just mean…like…why Manchester?” Phil asked.

“Because you’ve shown me so much of your past through your writing. I want to show you mine.”

Phil turned and looked at him with his favorite glance. The one where his eyes lit up and it made Dan’s heart flutter.

But then his face changed to one of worry and Dan panicked. Had he made the wrong choice? Did he say something too forward?

“Where are we staying?”

“Um…just my house. I don’t live too far from here I-”

“Dan!” Phil’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet your parents. Oh God…” Phil looked like he was panicking and as flattering as it was that Phil was nervous about the possibility of making the wrong impression, Dan’s laugh flicked him out of his little attack.

“They aren’t there. They go on holiday every year the week before Christmas to see my Grandma. My brother is on holiday as well. Even the dog is away. It’s just us.” He reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. Phil took a sigh of relief and he allowed himself to blush. “Come on, Phil. We’ve been dating two months. It’s a little weird for me to bring you home just yet. I’m sure you’ve thought the same about your own parents.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Phil said, the dark and gloomy cloud falling over him once again. Dan hoped it wasn’t because he had insulted Phil or something. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of their relationship, he just wasn’t sure how his parents would feel about him bringing someone home after not seeing them for so long. He really had to get over that. Some people were far less fortunate and couldn’t see their parents all the time. He told himself then that he would put more effort in the relationship. Maybe he’d call them on Christmas and wish them happy holidays.

The train stopped and Dan ushered him and his boyfriend up. They were to get on one more bus and then they will have arrived at Dan’s childhood home. No person, not even some of Dan’s ‘friends’ had been to his childhood home. It was something he was rather protective about. It was where he spent a lot of time holed up indoors reading or playing Final Fantasy until he had enough and fell asleep. His brother was far too young to be a proper companion and when he really thought about it, he kept mostly to himself for a majority of his life there. Hence why the place had so much history for him. This house was his sacred place and his room was his best friend - before he started reading Phil’s books that is.

“Thanks for taking me here, Dan,” Phil said as they were approaching Dan’s front door. “I know how much of a big deal this is for you.”

“That’s okay. It’s really nothing,” Dan lied, constantly flabbergasted that Phil somehow knew exactly what he was thinking before he even had to say a word. He unlocked the door to the house and they stepped inside.

As expected, it was empty and Dan started up the stairs immediately, heading for his bedroom where he would put their stuff. Phil followed of course and instead of Dan’s innocent plan of exploring the house and showing Phil the things of the past, Phil kicked the door closed and pushed Dan into his twin bed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Phil said from above him, sharing a kiss with Dan’s eager lips.

“Oh yeah? And what else did you want to do?”

Phil smirked and their clothes were on the floor in an instant.

Their Saturday was relaxing. After their little escapade in the bedroom, Dan finally got to show Phil around. Although a lot of his things were no longer there, he explained every little detail to Phil. He even showed Phil the patch of carpet that he had his first existential crisis on. Phil laughed and they both laid down to try it. It didn’t end in crisis, however, it did end in a tickle fight.

Phil knew Dan’s other motive for bringing him here. He knew that Dan wanted Phil to get away from that big scary thing that he knew nothing about and focus on his own brain. Dan had suggested to him millions of times that perhaps the reason he couldn’t focus on his writing was that he was dealing with all the shit that came with this huge secret. So at the end of the night, when they were happily sitting inside beside a fireplace that held so many Christmas memories for Dan, Phil pulled out a spiral notebook and started jotting a few things down. Not a lot, but enough that Dan could tell Phil was making headway. It warmed Dan’s heart. So he curled up beside Phil with his little mug of hot chocolate and watched the fire in the company of his favorite person in his childhood home.

Sunday was a whirlwind. It started off nice when Dan made Phil a rock star breakfast. He found eggs and bacon and toast, brewing coffee and cutting up some oranges for his dear Phil who was still in bed and planned on being there for the rest of the day. He piled everything on a tray and they had a three-hour breakfast in bed that they always talked about. Phil looked so happy, munching on his toast and forking through his eggs. Dan couldn’t believe he was sharing this moment in the tiniest of beds with the person with the biggest heart. He was so incredulously happy.

That is until Phil’s phone rang. Dan reached over and grabbed it from the side table, handing it to his boyfriend who had a mouth full of bacon, and he squinted at the caller ID. Without his glasses or his contacts, his eyes were useless.

He picked up the unknown number and his face went pale.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand…I uh…yeah, I can…” Phil’s hand had gripped his fork in a painful manner before it dropped to the tray. “Sure thing. I’ll be there in four hours.” Dan’s eyes went wide and he looked at Phil with a piece of toast hanging from his lip. Phil was already scooting past Dan and putting pants on. “Thank you so much….yeah I’ll be there…okay bye.”

There was a moment of silence as Phil held his phone in his hand and he looked at Dan. Dan knew this had to do with that huge secret that Phil never mentioned and this wouldn’t have been a big deal if this wasn’t Dan’s first holiday since he’d dropped from Uni.

Phil looked like he didn’t want to explain but that wasn’t going to cut it this time. He couldn’t just promise whoever was on the phone that he was going to take a train back immediately without telling his boyfriend what was going on.

“Phil…” Dan took a stab at being calm and collected, even though he was beyond irritated. His bubble of bliss had just popped and now they were at a standstill.

Phil’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes getting slightly watery, but he hung his head and nodded. “I really have to go.”

Dan blinked. No other explanation. Not even an apology.

“I’ll come with you.” Dan hopped out of bed and started looking for his own pants that had somehow ended up being thrown last night. He had to admit, his tone was pretty bitter, but it was important that Phil knew he was kind of salty. Especially because he had been looking forward to this getaway for weeks. It was Dan’s Christmas gift to Phil after all. He wanted Phil to enjoy it.

“No, Dan, it’s best you didn’t.” Phil was now shoving things in his suitcase and his hands were shaking.

“We said we’d spend the weekend together! I’m coming with you,” Dan insisted, packing his suitcase as well. Phil zipped his up and took a second to stare at Dan who was furiously scrunching clothes and pushing them into his black suitcase.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Dan stopped packing and he stared at the shirt that was crumpled in his hand now.

“I can just meet you back in London,” Phil tried. “I’ll explain later.”

What the hell was so important that it turned Phil into this vague mess that just left during their personal holiday?

“No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” Phil turned around and his grip on his suitcase handle tightened.

“You won’t tell me later. You never do,” Dan said, his voice laced with some form of hurt that Phil certainly detected. “When will you tell me what’s going on?”

Phil looked overwhelmed and maybe Dan shouldn’t have pushed him. On a regular day, this didn’t bother him. On a regular day, he was sympathetic. But today, he had taken off work for this holiday and Phil should have taken off from whatever it was he did in his spare time. This was time he should have been spending with Dan.

So when Phil gave Dan one last glance of sorrow and turned around to leave, Dan waited until he heard the front door shut before he threw himself into the pillow and cried. He knew he was dramatic but this wasn’t fair. He loved Phil and he knew Phil loved him back, just not enough to keep him from leaving.

He ended up going back to London early. He couldn’t bear the idea of sitting in an empty house alone. Not again. It was just too quiet. So with his tail between his legs, he called Louise and told her that he was available to work on Monday. She didn’t ask any questions but he was sure they were coming when she told him he could come in and work his usual Monday shift. He was glad that she at least offered him a means of distraction.

He arrived at The Brew Bean with a frown and Louise shook her head, leaving the new boy - PJ - at the counter so she could chat with Dan in the back. She wasn’t interested when Dan was happy, but suddenly she wanted to know everything.

“…and he just left. He didn’t even offer an explanation,” Dan explained the whole story, his head in his hands as he sat on a cardboard box in the back. “I don’t know what to do. I love him but if this thing is more important than me, I don’t know if I can continue dating someone who leaves me so quickly for something else. Let alone someone who won’t share everything.”

Louise was strangely silent. She looked sympathetic but didn’t offer any advice until he was done moping. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed. He was on the verge of tears.

“I offered to go with him this time and he flat out told me he didn’t want me around,” Dan cried, his voice quivering. He noticed Louise’s silence and he looked up through his shaggy haircut. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

She fiddled with her yellow dress.

“I may or may not know where Phil’s always off to…” Louise spoke softly and gently, much like you would to a child. “But I don’t think I can tell you.”

“Louise!” Dan looked up at her with desperate eyes. “You have to tell me! Come on! He’s known you for two months and I’ve known you for years! Please!”

Begging was unbecoming but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

She looked unsure of herself like she was about to spill something that was bigger than both of them.

“Please, Louise…please.”

After another short moment of silence, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet the desperate eyes that blinked back at her.

“Phil’s mother is dying.”

Dan’s brain short circuited.

“She’s what?”

Louise knew that Dan had heard her and she didn’t repeat what she had just said. She could tell that it was hitting him.

“During the interview I asked him if there was anything that might get in the way of a job like this and he mentioned that his mother was in pretty bad shape, cancer I think, and he said that he has been taking care of her for a good while now,” Louise explained softly. “I think that’s why he needed the job in the first place. To pay for the medicines and hospital visits.”

“Wait…how sick is she?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. I haven’t talked to him about it since that day. I think he’d prefer nobody to find out.”

“But…but why didn’t he just tell me that?”

Louise shook her head. “I don’t know but listen, you should cut him some slack. I’m sure it’s really hard.”

Dan nodded and watched as his boss got up and pat his shoulder before walking off. He stayed where he was and reflected on everything that had happened in the past few months. All the times that Phil was late, all the times that he had to quickly run out from a date, all the times he had mentioned that things had changed a lot in recent years. He never explained the roommate that lived upstairs, he never explained the phone calls he always had to take in the morning, and he never ever talked about his parents. This must be why he was so afraid to meet Dan’s.

Part of him felt horrible. Like he had made the biggest mistake in his life. He had been rude to Phil when all he was doing was caring for his mother. He should have trusted Phil. But the other side of Dan felt hurt. Why wouldn’t Phil want to mention something so huge to his boyfriend who proved that he cared immensely? He would never judge Phil for something like this, even if it meant that Phil had a more important place to be some of the time. He wished that Phil had told him so he could have been more understanding than he was.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. He was the asshole who yelled at a man who’s mother was dying.

Something he didn’t expect was to see Phil that day. He was working the counter, handing some old man his change when the bells jingled and in came a person that looked a lot like Phil, but was clearly just a mess of tears and worry. As soon as Phil caught Dan’s glance, he looked terrified. As if he expected Dan to be in Manchester still, by himself. Dan wanted Phil to know that he wasn’t mad at him and that it was an honest mistake, but he wasn’t supposed to know about what was happening with Phil, so he couldn’t explain. He just smiled and watched as the boy hesitantly walked up to the counter.

“Hey,” he started, his eyes wavering with contact.

“Hey,” Dan answered, his hands fumbling with the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry…” Phil said, his voice broken and battered. He had done a lot of crying, clearly, and with the urgency in which he left Manchester, something terrible must have happened. Dan wanted to tell Phil that it was all okay and that he was totally right for leaving, but instead he just untied his apron, walked around the counter and to where Phil was standing, engulfing him in the tightest hug that he could manage. Phil’s conscious brain might not have understood why, but his body did. It folded when Dan’s chest hit Phil’s and the older boy was now racking with sobs. Last week, this would have been startling behavior, but this was completely okay and Dan knew he needed the support. Even if Phil wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Hey…shhh…it’s okay, Phil,” Dan hushed, whispering in the older boy’s ear while he combed his fingers through his hair. “How about I take you to my place and we cuddle for a while?”

Dan had never invited Phil back to his place. He had no reason to. Phil’s place was much closer and the bed was comfier. But Dan had the inclination that Phil might not want to go back to his own place and when the suggestion was made, Phil stilled before nodding slowly.

“Let me just let Louise know, okay?” Dan said, gently breaking them apart and finally taking in the full vision of Phil standing before him. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn the day before, his shirt wrinkled and his hands hanging lower than usual. Dan was careful not to jostle him as he stepped backward. He flashed him one more glance that told him to stay put, and then turned rather quickly to find his boss.

“We’re almost there,” Dan mentioned as he stroked Phil’s shoulder on the way to his flat. The bus was a lot quieter in the late afternoon than it was around lunch time and Dan was secretly thankful they missed the rush. Phil did not seem together enough to handle the chaos that was London during break hours. In fact, he was getting startled by every little thing. He clearly hadn’t slept and his nerves were acting up.

Phil nodded in response to Dan’s mention, but his head barely moved. Dan thanked the Universe that he even noticed.

They got off the bus and Dan led his boyfriend up to his flat, not even thinking about the state it was in. He hadn’t cleaned in ages. Granted, he never really stayed long enough to make much of a mess. He was sure that aside from the clothes on his bedroom floor and maybe a few books out on the coffee table, his place was in perfect order. The layer of dust over everything wasn’t visible and Phil probably wouldn’t notice. At least not today.

“Here, I’m going to get you some water and you can go lay down…” Dan said as he locked his front door. Phil was silently taking in the place he had just entered but he turned to Dan with thankful eyes. “My bedroom is the door at the end of the hall…” He pointed and spun his broken love around. “I think I made the bed…”

Phil shuffled back to Dan’s bedroom while Dan fixed him a glass of water. He probably hadn’t had anything proper to eat in the past 24 hours so he snagged a granola bar as well before heading back to see Phil.

If not under these circumstances, he probably would have taken a picture of what Phil looked like right then. Even at his worst, Phil was still beautiful. He was curled in on himself with his head on Dan’s pillow. His eyes were shut and his hands were delicately resting beside his face. Dan wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a situation like this, but he placed the glass of water and the granola bar on the side table and he walked over to the other side of the resting boy. He climbed into the bed and like a big spoon, encased Phil into his arms. Phil was awake enough to shuffle himself into Dan’s embrace and Dan took that as a good sign. To Phil’s knowledge, Dan knew nothing about where he had gone.

Even in the state he was in, Phil could still read Dan’s mind. He had been quiet for so long that his voice pierced the air like broken glass on a concrete floor.

“My mum has Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer…”

Dan’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t a medical professional but he didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the words metastatic and cancer were bad news. His arms tightened a little around Phil but he said nothing, letting the other boy continue.

“…at the end of July the doctors said it reached stage four and that means she only had…” Phil swallowed. “…only had six months left and-” He nearly swallowed his own words. “They called yesterday and said she might not make it through Chri-”

Phil couldn’t finish. His breaths were shallow. His heart was beating so fast that Dan was sure it might explode there in his arms. Dan was shocked. He knew cancer was bad and that it was painful for everyone involved, but this seemed impossible. Phil was a hero. No wonder he hadn’t written anything in so long. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it.

They laid there in silence for what felt like hours. It could have just been minutes but Phil’s body never stopped trembling. Dan was letting his hand run through Phil’s black hair and his chest was pressed as close to Phil’s ribcage as physically possible. He hoped that his heart could beat strong enough for the both of them.

They fell asleep like that, Dan thought, because a few hours later he was being awoken again by a meek voice that was no louder than a whisper.

“Dan?” Phil was right next to his ear and Dan blinked his eyes open.

“Hm?” He instinctively hugged his boyfriend tighter and smiled into his hair.

“I love you.”

Dan was definitely not expecting that string of words right now but he didn’t care. He had been dying to hear them. Ever since they’d met. Call him crazy, but Phil was the one.

“I love you too, Phil,” he responded quickly, knowing how scary those words could be sometimes. “Are you okay?”

Phil nodded and he cuddled himself into Dan’s embrace just a little bit more. Dan wouldn’t let go until Phil was ready to be let go. And if that was never, well, then the two would rot here on this bed until his landlord dragged them out himself.

Dan called out of work for the both of them that next day because he wanted to be with Phil and Phil clearly couldn’t be anywhere else. He had gone on to explain how painful it was to be at home when his mother was in the hospital. Apparently she was just admitted, right before they had left for their vacation. That was why it had taken so long for Phil to meet Dan that day. Phil had to fill out more paperwork than he thought. Poor Phil was probably thinking about it the entire time they were away.

Phil also explained that his mother had progressed into her illness very rapidly. She was apparently just fine only two years ago. This made Dan’s heart lurch, especially because he didn’t talk much to his family. If anything made him feel guilty, it was hearing that something like this could happen, and quickly too.

He sat with Phil in bed all day, listening to him talk out the things that were probably trapped in his own head for months and months. Phil was spilling out the details of the treatments and the words doctors had thrown his way. He spent some time telling Dan about his mother and how kind and loving she was. He told Dan about all the great things she had done and all his childhood memories. Dan didn’t even know the woman, but he was sad to lose her. Apparently his dad had died a long time ago and Phil didn’t remember much about him. He explained that he was glad because he really couldn’t handle two premature parent deaths.

Once Phil was all talked-out, Dan was feeling rather sleepy. This was partially because he had stayed up much longer than Phil the night before, making sure that he was okay. Dan was still curled up next to Phil when his eyes started to flutter. He just barely got a glimpse of Phil pulling out a little notebook from his jacket pocket and clicking his pen before he drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

“Dan!” Phil woke his boyfriend with a bigger smile than Dan had seen on Phil all week. This alarmed him as he jolted awake and into awareness, looking at the boy before him with big, red, crusty eyes. “Dan I did it!”

Phil looked like he hadn’t slept a wink but he didn’t looked pained. He actually glowed. He looked like he was actually proud of something. Like he had done something that Dan would be proud of.

“Did what?” Dan rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking into Phil’s lap where he found a little notebook that held at least twenty pages of scribbles. The corner of Dan’s mouth went up when he realized what Phil was about to tell him.

“I have an idea for my next book! I wrote out an outline…” Phil gestured to the many pages of scribbles that Dan didn’t want to read because he genuinely didn’t want spoilers, but he did look up at Phil’s sparkling eyes that had regained a little light, and he let the crinkles next to his show.

“I’m so proud of you!” Dan praised, meaning every word. This must have taken a lot of creative energy but as Phil had explained, writing was his outlet and maybe because he let out some of the stuff that was floating around his head for so long, he was able to make room for the creative flow. “I get to be the first to read it when it’s complete, right?”

Phil nodded, understanding that he was dating his biggest fan and of course he wouldn’t be allowed to release it without his boyfriend’s blessing.

“I really like this one actually…I think…” Phil blushed. “I think you will too.”

Dan gave him a glare that meant 'of course I’ll like it, you wrote it,’ and then grabbed the proud boy in his arms, attacking him with kisses.

“Did you stay up all night to write this?” Dan asked after kissing Phil at least 23 times, a lick of concern leaking out of his tone.

“Yeah, and you’re really cute when you’re asleep, did you know that?”

“Shut up…” Dan tried not to smile but it came through. Phil was acting like Phil again and he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He knew that Phil struggled to keep his bubbly personality, even through everything that was going on, but this seemed genuine. He seemed like he was being himself – for the time being at least. “Want some breakfast?”

“Sure. What are we having?” Phil asked.

“Well, unless you want to eat moldy toast and expired jam, I think we have to go out,” Dan stretched his arms above his head and Phil took advantage of the slight sight of tummy, tickling it and blowing a very sloppy raspberry. Dan giggled and in retaliation, he ended up blowing a raspberry on Phil’s lips, only leading to a very heated make-out session that ended in morning sex.

Pancakes always did the trick, or at least for Phil. Phil had had bad days before and Dan knew the remedy was always pancakes and coffee. Although it wasn’t really the healthiest meal to eat after barely eating anything, it was something and it would keep Phil’s tummy the way it was – nice and plump – for Dan.

“So tell me about your new book.” Dan put his chin in his hands and leaned over the table like some lovesick puppy. “Does Striker go on another adventure and take down an evil horse-lord.”

Phil laughed and shook his head. He had a chunk of pancake in his mouth so he held a finger up and told Dan to wait.

“No, no. Not another horse-lord. Horses freak me out, remember?”

“Yeah. I do. That’s why it was evil,” Dan answered, smirking. “Duh.”

“You really are Phil Trash #1.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Phil, we’ve been over this. I probably know your books better than you do. Come on, spill. What’s Striker doing next?”

“Well if you know my book better than I do, then you should know,” Phil teased, pointing his fork at Dan. “And you don’t really want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

Dan sighed. Of course he didn’t. But getting Phil to talk about his passions was one of Dan’s favorite things and since he’d met the older boy, the passion had not been writing. This was the first they had talked about it in weeks. Dan wanted to know everything he could if Phil was willing to chat about it.

“Okay, fine, just tell me this. Is Samuel in this one?” This was a very cheeky question and Dan asked it with a knowing smile. At this point, Dan knew that he was Phil’s muse for Samuel. Even though the books were written before Phil met Dan, it was like Samuel was perfectly molded to be Dan. Not to mention, at the end of the last book, Samuel was officially invited to join Striker on his newest quest. So Dan and Phil both knew Samuel would have to be a giant part of Phil’s next book. And if Striker was Phil, then Samuel was Dan and if Dan was being honest, he was excited to read how Phil wrote Sam in the next novel.

“You’ll just have to wait and see…” Phil alluded, his smile revealing it all.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

But they both knew that’s not what they meant.

They were walking back from their little breakfast place when Phil’s phone rang in his pocket. As soon as Dan heard the ring, he tensed up. The last time he got this call, Phil left him without any explanation. He hoped it wasn’t the same kind of call but at the same time, he hoped that if it was, Phil would at least fill him in.

They stopped in the middle of the pavement and Phil dug the device from his pocket, his hand visibly shaking as he answered it.

“Hello?” He stared at anywhere but Dan as he listened to the person on the other end. His face gave nothing away as he nodded and released a few quiet 'mmhmm’s, Dan nearly dying of curiosity. But then Phil hung up and he finally looked at Dan with tears in his eyes.

So it was that kind of call.

“Phil…if you need to go, you ca-”

“Come with me,” Phil said, his voice breaking.

“What?”

“Come with me,” Phil said again, stepping closer and grabbing Dan’s hands. “Please. I…I don’t want to do th-” He stopped, looked at his feet and then back into Dan’s eyes. “I can’t do this alone.”

Dan nodded and suddenly they were briskly walking down the London street. Thank God they were within blocks of the hospital and Phil wasn’t subject to an entire bus ride of anticipation. It was still rather early in the day for Dan to be walking this fast, but for Phil he would do anything.

They arrived at the hospital in under ten minutes, the nurse at the desk giving Phil a nod of understanding when he walked right past. This made Dan sad because that must have meant that Phil had been in here an awful lot for the nurse to recognize the man.

Phil walked the white hospital halls, Dan trailing behind, as Phil navigated the place like it was his home. Another thing that made Dan’s heart clench. He could see the way the staff looked in Phil’s direction, a glance of sympathy here and there, every now and then a nurse would mutter a “hello” or a “good to see you.” This made Dan very uncomfortable. He wanted to be there for Phil but he wasn’t sure he was built for a place as grim as this.

Phil finally stopped at a door that was closed, taking a deep breath and swiveling on his feet toward Dan.

“You uh…don’t have to come in…if you don’t want,” he offered, but his eyes told him he did, so Dan shook his head and smiled.

“If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Dan was already here. He might as well commit.

Phil responded with a weak smile and he nodded, letting go of Dan’s loose grip and reaching for the handle.

There was no experience, movie or book, that could compare to what he saw in the room they entered. Phil walked in slowly and carefully and Dan did his best to mimic his partner’s steps. When he finally got a glimpse of the hospital bed and the woman in it, he almost cried himself. The woman was frail and thin, something you would expect from an older lady, but this was Phil’s mum. She couldn’t have been older than 60 and yet she looked like she had lived ten lifetimes. Her closed eyes had sunken in and turned purple, the bone of her nose nearly poking through the weathered skin, and her lips barely had any color at all. Dan was sure that if this woman had any resemblance to Phil, it was long gone now. Her fingers laid still on her chest and her breathing released a slow hiss when it left her nose. Tons of little wires went from one device to another, some spitting liquid in and from the body on the bed. It looked like she didn’t even notice, her somewhat peaceful sleep was deep and most likely medically induced.

Dan shot Phil a glance that meant more than comfort. He tried to tell Phil that he was so sorry. So sorry that this was happening. So sorry that Phil had to go through this tragic process.

“M-Mum?” Phil’s voice shook when he spoke, as if he would break her fragile ears with his tender tone. He sat himself in the chair that was clearly there for him and him only, grabbing his mother’s hand with the softest of touches. “Mum can you hear me?”

Dan wasn’t about to say anything at all, but he wondered how conscious his mother actually was. Phil hadn’t told him much about her state and how lucid she was at this stage of the cancer. He watched and was actually a little startled when his mum’s darkened eyes opened slowly in Phil’s direction.

And that’s when Dan saw the resemblance. She had the same eyes. Blue and bright and full of life. Dan’s heart sank when he realized that Phil had once seen her when she mimicked this trait all over. Her heart monitor beeped, signaling a change in pace.

“Oh Phil…honey…” Her voice was like rust on glass, painful to listen to but impossible not to hear. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mum. I’m really good,” Phil answered, his voice broken and his lip was quivering.

“You look like you haven’t…” She took a breath. “…slept.”

“I have. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Phil looked down at the hand he was holding, the frail and boney one that was nearly half the size of his own. “I’ve brought someone today that I’d like you to meet.”

Dan froze.

“His name is Dan and I work with him,” Phil explained, reaching for Dan who was standing as far out of the way as possible. “Come here, Dan. Come meet my mum.”

Dan smiled and inched toward’s Phil and his mum who was now turning her head an inch so that she could see him. Her face that was looking so dearly at Phil, mustered an expression of joy when her eyes landed on Dan’s features.

“Why he looks just like Sa-” She coughed, nodding and letting it pass. “Samuel.” Phil laughed a little, the blush on his face prominent. “Are you sure you didn’t write him yourself?”

Dan didn’t know why it hadn’t dawned on him before. Of course Phil’s mum read Phil’s books. She was probably a bigger fan than Dan was. And she most likely knew that Phil was Striker. So this was not just a reference to Phil’s novels, his mother was calling him out as his boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lester,” Dan bowed his head a little and she seemed delighted. “I’ve heard so many great things about you.”

“Are you taking good care of…my son?” She asked, her breath running short towards the end of the sentence.

“I sure am. Don’t worry,” Dan nodded. He wasn’t lying. Phil was in the right hands. At least Dan hoped he was.

Phil’s mum turned back over to Phil and she closed her eyes.

“Phil…” She breathed, the monitor alerting everyone that her heart was slowing. “Phil I like him.”

Phil was smiling but there were tears rolling down his cheeks and he was wiping them as fast as he could with his other hand. The blue of his eyes seemed to pop when the rest of his face was so red.

“Me too, Mum…me too.”

“I love you so much, Darling…” She coughed. “I lo-” She coughed again, her hand grasping at her chest.

“I love you too, Mum…I love you so much.”

Dan felt like he shouldn’t be here for this moment. Like he had walked in on an extremely intimate scene that he was not supposed to witness. But then Phil glanced at Dan with eyes brimmed with tears and he knew he had to be here. Phil needed him now more than ever so he sat in the chair next to Phil’s and rubbed Phil’s back as he talked to his mother.

“Promise me…” She breathed. “…you’ll keep writing.”

Phil nodded, his thumb rubbing over his mother’s withering hand.

“Don’t cry, Dear…” She reached up with her shaky hand, wiping a tear from Phil’s cheek. “I want to see you s-…” Her hand dropped to the bed. “…smile.”

“Mum-” Phil started, his voice breaking.

“Please, Philly. Smile for me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. It sounded like a gust of wind that could be words if you really listened.

Phil could do nothing but wipe his tears with his jacket sleeve and he smiled for his mother who watched with a faint smile of her own.

“You have such a beautiful…” A cough escaped her lips and it was barely a puff of air. “…smile.”

And that’s when it happened. Phil’s mum’s heart monitor screeched with a signal of what Dan assumed was the end. Phil’s mum’s eyes had closed and her hand fell limp in Phil’s grasp. Phil’s smile, as forced as it was, was long gone. All that was left were heart-wrenching sobs that filled the room while the nurses came rushing in. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done and Dan could only watch as Phil broke down on top of his incredibly beautiful mother.

Wearing a suit and tie was usually reserved for fancy events. Events that required a little sultry and grace. But a funeral was the only event that made a suit look drab. Dan fixed his tie and glanced at his appearance in the mirror. Most joked that his wardrobe was much like a walking funeral but when it came time to actually mourn the death of someone close, it never felt that he was comfortably dressed.

He left his apartment and took a cab to Phil’s. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with strangers asking why he was dressed up. It wasn’t even his mother and he felt like it was too personal.

Phil had cried for hours after they left the hospital. He was a wreck and Dan couldn’t blame him. He had been close with his mother and losing her was probably the most painful thing he could have ever imagined. But Dan was there for him, if not only because he promised Phil’s mum, but because he loved the boy and it hurt him to see Phil this way.

But Phil’s brother had flown in to be with Phil before the funeral and Dan hadn’t seen Phil in two days. Phil had explained how his brother was a very busy man who ran multiple companies and four separate websites. He didn’t have a lot of time to come visit their mother, but apparently if he had known she was in such bad shape, he would have come sooner. Phil didn’t blame Martyn for any of it, he just needed someone there to talk him through all the paperwork. Someone who might know what to do more than Dan would. Martyn sounded like he was collected and organized – the perfect man for the job.

But today was the funeral and of course, Dan was going to be next to Phil the entire day. He couldn’t imagine the pain that Phil was going through. If he and his presence at a morbid event cheered up the love of his life, then he was there in a heartbeat.

Funerals always felt like they lasted forever and with Phil sobbing on his shoulder during the entire ceremony, it was a wonder he had the energy for the post funeral reception that was apparently occurring at Phil’s house.

Dan had learned that Phil’s mum did indeed live with Phil. Her room was on the main floor and that’s why Phil was pretty much secluded to the basement. Unless he needed to cook or leave the house, he had everything he needed down there. It made perfect sense that the reception would be held around all of his mother’s objects. This way, the family members could all gather and collect what was most important to them.

Dan, however, did not expect to lose Phil halfway through the party, only to find him curled on his bed, much like he had been curled on his own only a week and a half prior.

“Phil…” Dan said, his softest voice activated, his tone no harsher than a child’s. “Phil are you okay?”

Phil shook his head and Dan swallowed.

“Aw…come here.” Dan collected the broken man into his arms and he could feel his heart pound woefully in his chest for the weeping man. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I’m so so sorry.”

Phil cried into Dan’s leg for some time, his tears threatening to ruin Dan’s suit, but that was the least of his worries. His one goal was to give Phil everything he needed today. Today and forever.

But hiding in the basement could only last so long when you’re hosting a reception. Eventually, the two were called up for a family meeting that Dan was allowed to sit in for. It was basically just Phil, his brother and a few of his cousins, there to discuss the contents of Catherine’s will. It was extraordinarily uncomfortable for Dan, and Phil didn’t look like he was enjoying it any more. But Dan was there for him and that was what mattered.

When it was time for everyone to leave, Dan said goodbye to Phil and trusted that Phil’s brother would take care of him for a couple days. His brother was staying for a little while – or only until Phil felt like he could handle himself. Dan didn’t want to leave, but he figured it was best. Phil needed the time with family.

But that proved to be one of the biggest mistakes of Dan’s life.

He kissed Phil goodbye and then headed back to his own flat where he got a good night’s rest. He sure as hell wished he had known that would be the last one for a while.

“He what?” Dan asked Louise as she stood before him a couple weeks later. “Did he tell you why?”

“He called and quit. That’s all he said. Dan, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t seen him,” Louise said, her voice full of sorrow.

Dan had been trying to reach Phil for two weeks now and the boy hadn’t even turned on his phone. Christmas had come and passed and the new year had begun. Phil’s phone had gone straight to voicemail each and every time. He messaged him on Facebook and got nothing. He even tried contacting Phil’s brother who told him he had left a day after the holiday. Phil was MIA and Dan was starting to get worried.

He wasn’t proud, but he ended up going to Phil’s house that night and he knocked for a full hour. He got nothing. Not even a shuffle from inside. He even went down to Phil’s window in the basement and knocked on that for a while. But there was nothing.

Dan sulked back home, walking the entire way with a sinking feeling.

With updates every now and then from Phil’s brother, telling him that yes, Phil was still alive, Dan went a month and a half without seeing him. He continued to work at The Brew Bean because he needed the money for rent, but he would go home with a frown each and every day.

The worst part about all of this, was that he couldn’t even read his favorite books. Even Striker was no comfort to a loss like this.

Dan understood why Phil needed his time away. Mourning someone was an excruciating process that Dan couldn’t even begin to understand. He had never lost anyone so dear in his life. But Dan was a person as well and even though his pain was nowhere close to Phil’s right now, he felt as though he was mourning a Lester as well. Phil had left his life so suddenly and with every ounce of his being, he wanted to comfort his soulmate from the destruction he was surely facing.

Their relationship was like nothing he had ever experienced. Such passion and adventure was something he only read in Phil’s novels and now that he had a taste, it was painful to think he might never take another bite again.

“With passionate romance came tragic heartbreak.”

A quote that Phil had coined himself in his third book. The only one Dan could bear to read right now. It was all about Striker’s struggle with being away from Samuel. If only he could read the other side. The one where Samuel is left at home while the love of his life is battling demons.

Much like Phil was doing now.

One month turned to two and one day while he was running a very simple yet important errand, his eyes caught a beautifully decorated gold and black book that rested on the “New Releases” pile of Dan’s favorite bookstore. It wasn’t every day that a book actually fit his aesthetic. He sauntered over to it and his eyes nearly popped from his spinning head.

This was a new novel written by nobody other than Phil Lester.

Dan had never bought a book that fast. He contemplated stealing it but that wouldn’t be good for Phil’s sales. He practically ran to the nearest restaurant, he didn’t even care that it was a fancy one that only served wine and overpriced cheese, he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu and turned the book over so he could read the back.

Striker gears up for his next adventure, this time with his trusty companion Samuel. But when disaster strikes in his own backyard, Striker finds that first he must slay the demons inside him before going out and tackling everyone else’s. How will Samuel help Striker on this more than personal adventure of the heart and soul? Can Striker save himself and Samuel from what dwells beneath the skin of his own flesh? What happens when Striker is taken over by the hideous monster inside? Will Samuel be able to save him or will the job prove too much?

Dan could not believe what he was reading. Not only had Phil produced a book in only two months, it had a much different vibe than the rest of his fiction. This one was dark. Even the book itself screamed it’s morbid nature. Phil was crying for help and this book was the start of Dan’s ability to help.

So he cracked the spine of the book and started to read.

Once the book was finished and he tipped the confused waitstaff an enormous amount of money for sitting at the same table for 5 hours, he was out the door and running. Dan couldn’t even remember the last time he ran. It must have been back when he was still in school and his teachers had forced him. But as his hair flopped about and his desire to reach the author of this stunning book increased, he let his pace match. He ran past people and objects and couldn’t even care that his legs burned from the use. He must have ran two miles at least, his forehead beading with the sweat he shed.

When he reached Phil’s residence, he was out of breath and clutching the novel to his chest. He didn’t care how long it took Phil to come to the door, he was coming outside and they were going to talk. Dan was not going to give up that easily.

“Phil!” He knocked loudly with a strong fist. “I know you’re in there! Please! Open up!”

There was nothing, as expected, and Dan just kept knocking.

Soon, he was sitting on the stoop like some sort of crazy human being, knocking at the bottom of the door like it was life or death.

When night fell and dark had cascaded against the London city, he sat clutching the book and contemplating everything. He opened the book to the last page and read the last paragraph again, gaining some comfort from Phil’s words - as always.

Samuel took a breath and cut the head from the last demon, saving Striker once and for all. His lover lied beneath him with a breathless gaze. Samuel had saved his life. He owed everything to the man that was now collecting him in his arms.

“Thank you…” Striker mumbled, his heart beating faster and his lips drawing closer to Samuel’s.

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own, Striker…” He spoke softly and kindly, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder. “But don’t worry. I’ll be here and we can tackle them together.”

Dan hummed in appreciation and he let a few tears fall from his eyes. He knew Phil was miserable without him. If this book was anything to go by, he needed Dan more than Dan thought.

“Please, Phil…” He knocked at the foot of the door a few more times with his swollen fists. “Please, Phil. Let me in.”

As if Phil sniffed Dan’s desperate pleas, the ones right before he would inevitably give up, the lock on the door shifted. Dan was a fool and jumped, getting startled by the sudden change. He scrambled to his feet and kept the book tight against his pounding chest as if it would contain his beating heart.

And when Phil finally opened the door, Dan’s heart melted. He was just as beautiful as Dan remembered – not like that could ever change – but the blue had mellowed from Phil’s eyes and there was something so foreign about his gaze. Dan couldn’t tell if it had changed or if he just couldn’t remember. But either way, Dan wasn’t ever leaving Phil’s side again.

“Hey…” Phil said, his voice quiet and his glance pleaded for Dan to forgive him. If Dan knew anything about Phil, it was that he felt bad about the pain he caused anyone. He probably knew how painful it was for Dan to stand here and see Phil for the first time in two months. He probably knew how painful it was to leave Dan. Because he was dealing with the same pain right now. Dan could see it in his eyes.

Wasting no more time, Dan unclenched the book from his chest and held it out for Phil to see.

“Will you sign my copy?”

Not even he recognized his quiet voice and when Phil saw his hesitant smile, he let one escape his lips as well.

“I’ll do you one better…” Phil reached inside and grabbed something from the table next to the door. “How about the original draft?”

Dan’s chin quivered and the tears were rolling down his cheeks when he saw what Phil had done. On the front of the stack of papers, Phil had taken a red pen to the title: “Samuel and Striker’s Adventure Within” and replaced the names to Dan and Phil.

He stepped inside, not even waiting for an invitation and he grabbed Phil by the waist, connecting their lips. He didn’t even care when he tasted the salt from their tears combined. This was where he belonged. Right by Phil’s side. No matter what.

“Phil?” Dan pulled away, still merely inches from his boyfriend’s lips, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Hm?”

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own.”

[plainsimplevic]

Well - That’s One Way To Come Out At Work

That was surprising. At work, as I've been vehemently talking about on twitter, there's been a lot of homophobic slurs being thrown around. Just as importantly, it was communicated to me that I basically needed to step up or I'd be fired. That I was “making excuses” for not doubling my output and occasionally coming in later (sometimes too late) in the day.  This is when I've done nothing but excel at this job. In fact I've been given additional responsibility and praised by those who are hardest to please! I’ve pushed through illness after illness the past 6 months. Fought through infections so painful I could feel them through the haze caused by an entire bottle of whiskey. I’ve been here in the middle of the night vibrating because my cold is that bad. I’ve gotten SURGERY because I realized a condition was affecting my work - prioritizing that over other procedures I need done because I believe in fulfilling my commitments. Period. Whatever it takes. Be they professional, personal, or in support of my loved ones. And now my dedication, competency, and integrity are being questioned and I’m being threatened on top of all the bigotry? Those are NOT things you question about me. I’m not perfect and I fuck up but those base values are what makes me, me. Hell, my motto is Honour, Courage, Integrity!

It had gotten to the point that I've been very close to exploding, quitting, calling them the bigots they were, and storming out. I nearly did so this week after one boss was subtly (though I believe ignorantly) racist and the other was using gay slurs within half an hour.

After calming myself down, my plan was to consult with some friends this week, calm down further, get some sleep, and be professional. To put in my 2 weeks, tell them why, and use the last pitiful paycheck to put myself in a position to make money by other means.

Now, as I continued to calm down, I realized that immediately pulling the trigger on quitting was an immature way to handle the situation. As much as I wanted to, the enlightened thing to do would be to open a dialogue with my bosses and trying to resolve the situation rather than treat them as hostile. Despite the evidence, there may be more going on that I’m unaware of and they may be receptive to what I have to say. What can I say? I’m a Trekkie who grew up in the TNG era. Exhaust all opportunities for discussion before taking any action that could be taken as hostile. It may sound silly, but that show was very formative for me and the principles I learned from it have helped me well in life. #IAmStarfleet

But, after FINALLY getting some sleep last night and with one of the bosses gone on a business trip, something felt right about doing this today. I’d had some sleep so I knew my emotional control would be there and I wasn’t going to act unprofessionally. The boss had just come back from a “liquid lunch” so he was relaxed but not drunk. Having come out the day before to my straight-ally coworker had heartened me. And I was not so overloaded that I couldn’t take some time and write the 3-4 pages of talking points I needed to write before hand to keep me on track if I got flustered. So, I positioned myself so that my boss couldn’t avoid me (not that he was trying - just so he knew I needed to talk to him) and asked for a half hour one on one before he left. He agreed. It was no big issue.

Now, I’ve dealt with similar situations before. When I worked political campaigns, I was not only in a much more demanding and labor intensive positions (20+ hour days for months with no ability to take weekends off) but that boss was a total, self absorbed, jackass that continued tearing me down despite all I was doing. Nothing was good enough. So I called him and demanded a meeting. He asked when I could come in. I demanded he come to me (I was an hour and a half away). I sat him down and did then what I did today. I explained the situation and told him why there was an issue. At the next team meeting he promised to do better and afterwards gave me a big hug and thanked me. He didn’t change and was eventually replaced, but the point is that I knew that this is something I could do. But that doesn’t make it less scary. Especially since this involved something so personal that I’ve had so many issues dealing with over my life. Especially since I’ve only in the past few weeks felt comfortable enough with my sexuality to begin to talk about it with straights who are my long term friends. It surprised the heck out of me when I came out to my co-worker yesterday. #Scary.

I also had several people cautioning me not to do this. My mother was the most adamant. But also a friend who was concerned that this place was so hostile that I might just face further discrimination. For insight into my mindset, and really, just who I am, I want to quote an excerpt from my response to that.

“The bigotry, lack of respect, and lack of compensation is whats bugging me. If this convo fixes that...  Long hours I'm meh about and I enjoy the work. And that’s not judging others. That’s just who I am. I'm the guy who has the guts to face things head on. Stare the darkness in the face and dare it to extinguish my light. If I lose that, I lose everything. I cant have that with every other aspect of my life and not this now that I've accepted it.”

And for those who are going to criticize me and say that my lack of self acceptance of my sexual identity disproves that statement let me point a couple things out. 1) Bandwidth. Without going into too much detail, my life, especially the past 10 years, has been ROUGH. It’s hard to do things like process your sexuality issues when you’re doing things like working 16 hour days while a tooth rots in your head because you can’t afford to get the root canal you need because all you’re money’s going into making the choice between food and bills. Or when everyone around you, with the exception of your mother, does not seem to be, but is actually dying or abandoning you. 2) Lack of community. I’m just a man and I have my limits - sometimes I need help. By reaching out for that help, I’m proving my statements about myself true. I haven’t had anyone I could turn to and ask, “what was it like for you?”. No-one to relate to. No-one to tell me that there’s nothing wrong with me. I didn’t even have support outside the queer community dealing with every other aspect life - much less in it to deal with this. Every time I reached out the past 5 or 6 years to try to get that support, I was shut down in some way. I’ve had community members shrug and be dismissive, not understanding the traumas involved with growing up Catholic and in a homophobic setting. I’ve had people point to some reading material, pat me on the head, and send me on my merry - not truly understanding the damage 25+ years of internalized homophobia can cause. I’ve had one gal talk about bi-erasure in one breath, insist I’m straight in the other, declare how lesbians are superior to all others, and then try to get me to apologize for being a cishet man. Which, growing up primarily raised by women, having strong memories of sitting around the table as they talk about how horrible men are, being told “but you’re different” and “one of the good ones” and left feeling othered and wondering how much I should hate myself for my gender did NOT go over well. But that’s an entire blog post in it of itself and I digress.

So the time for the meeting came and I told my boss everything. I told him that he needed to quit the gay slurs. That I was bi. That I had met and was falling for the most amazing guy which had inspired me to make another attempt at confronting these issues. That the past couple months have been awesome and positive but extremely intense. That there’s been many times where I’ve held it together during the day and then just stared into my monitor for hours unable to do anything but have tears in my eyes once everyone left. That I’ve been on my laptop so much because I’m getting (and giving) support. That I’m afraid that some of my friends may end themselves and not be there tomorrow. Of all the illness I’ve been pushing through. And how, through it all, I still got the job DONE.

And the response was shocking. He was completely taken aback. He asked, “what slurs?” I gave him an example and, being total white straight male, he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. He asked if I was gay. I told him bi and he laughed and exclaimed how insensitive he’s been and immediately apologized. He lit up and exclaimed how awesome it was when I said I was falling for (again) the most amazing man (hard). He said how he has no issues with queer folk and told me of his gay friend with a similar background to me. He told me how, when he grew up, they used those terms all the time to effectively mean asshole but had no clue what they meant and that they had just become reflex - but that that was no excuse. That he had no problem not outing me to anyone else, though I’m close to being completely out. I was valued and appreciated.

And then, no joke, he asked me what I needed on my projects and the entire thing became, among other things, a pitch session and him putting many of his resources at my disposal.

Also, it turns out that the “firing” thing was because the other boss was freaking out about how a couple of business partners who were funding my salary simply didn’t like having to pay me and, for that reason alone which nothing to do with me, were looking for any excuse to “cut costs.” From my own deductions, I now realize that it’s mostly that I haven’t been putting up enough of a “show” of working on the rare occasion they’ve been around which is probably making it harder for that boss to defend me. Also, I’m 90% sure this is that guy’s first time managing someone and I know for a fact that this is his first time working in this industry and dealing with certain types of personalities - like said business partners. These are things that I have decades of experience with in one form or another so, now that I know that I know what his issues largely are, I plan on having a similar talk with him and offering my advice and support. I’ve been in that position before and watched it blow up in my face. Honestly, he’s fucking lucky it’s me and not someone else - they would have stormed out. I know. I’ve been the one stormed out on.

His main fault was not properly communicating to me how much of an issue these asshole business partners have been. I’ve been in his position many a time and now exactly how to compensate for that kind of bullshit. And because of his lack of communication, I haven’t been able to make his job easier by doing so.

I think there might be a couple of translation-to-this-industry issues as well so I’ll talk to him about that too. And, apparently, the boss I talked to has had to pull that boss aside a few times recently. Somethings going on with his personal life I feel.

So, yeah. That was probably the best coming-out-at-work experience I could have had. We’ll see if the boss I spoke to lives up to his promises but, as of now, things are looking up. I’m so glad that I haven’t been too traumatized in life that I can still hope. Maybe I’m just too stubborn an asshole to let it go. But it’s that hope that led me to try the diplomatic path. That allowed me to adhere to my values and belief that dialogue and understanding can solve nearly all situations so long as both sides listen.

And yes, those are Starfleet values. And if that’s too corny for you I have 2 things to say. 1) Read the above book-of-a-blog again and tell me how I’m wrong when EVERYONE else (except Mom) was telling me that the only solution was to quit in a righteous rage. 2) Fuck off you ignorant, pessimistic, little shit. #IAmStarfleet #FirstDutyToTheTruth #TrekTillIDie

I may still leave here soon for various other reasons, but now, rather than making enemies here I’ll leave with (assuming words meet deeds - which evidence so far here as indicated these are the kind of people where that’ll be the case) A) the use of these facilities for my own projects, B) plenty of time to prepare, and C) a financial cushion to aid in the transition.

Thanks to Danni, Alex, and Kaeden who’s support and affections have been crucial in helping me get to the point where I’m secure enough in my identity that I can tackle issues like this. Thank you for being my community.

[alicesyrene]

Weekend Update (9/17/2018)

So I’m still trying to nail down an upload schedule for my blogs. I’m thinking since I don’t usually do a whole lot of spending or writing on the weekends, I’ll take Saturday and Sunday off unless I feel like posting or something crazy happens. For now I think my work schedule will allow me to stick to daily updates, though I’m not sure I’ll need them. We’ll see how it goes, I’ve never blogged before!

This weekend I ended up spending less than I anticipated at certain points, and more than I anticipated at other points. I still haven’t bought the extra supplies for my class, but I think I may have at least one or two of the fabric samples needed already, and the other two items came out to $40 on Amazon, but since I have the credit card with the points automatically added, I only have to pay $5! I’ll have to check my old sewing box when I get home for the fabric samples and see what I’ve got on hand. I had to work this Saturday, which is definitely not my favorite, for a couple reasons. Reason one: I hate working on the weekends. At least at my current job. Mostly because it throws off my whole schedule, and I like to sleep in. I look forward to it all week. Reason two: there is not a direct route to work on Saturdays. I work out of a different building, and I know I’ve talked about this before, but if I want to get to work on time within two hours, Uber or driving are my only option. I can take the ferry home, but that means I have to wake up early enough to remember to drive to the ferry building and order my Uber from there. It also means it will take me almost two hours to get home.

So in response to that, I missed my alarm on Saturday, making me have to take an extra expensive UberX instead of Uber express or pool, and then made the decision to Uber home as well, since I would have to Uber at some point anyway, because I did not drive to the ferry building. It just seemed logical at the time. I did take express, and after I got in there was a couple who decided instead of asking me to switch seats(which I would have done begrudgingly) or splitting between front and back seat, instead squeezed in next to me and proceeded to grossly make out all the way to their stop, which was somewhere on Bay Street in the Marina. Thank GOD their stop was first. I was so uncomfortable, and I could tell the guy kept giving me side glances, and maybe was receiving a handy? I was afraid to look. Needless to say, after pointlessly working that Saturday and already feeling lonely, I was less than enthused by the time I got home. I was disappointed in myself for spending almost $60 on transportation, and in general feeling very lonely and frustrated by the day. I made myself some chicken patties(I really wanted a burger and fries) and called it a day. The silver lining was my brother who has the A/C unit in the window at the head of his bed was out of town, so I slept in his bed.

On Saturday I was completely bored at work, and decided to go through some of my cards and see if I had any punch cards I forgot about or memberships I could cancel. I found my Barnes&Noble card, which renewed back in May, and went ahead and cancelled the auto-renewal on that so it will just run it’s course, and then remembered I have about $12 left on my Safeway gift card I received at the holiday luncheon last year, and a random gift card from my old boss after I moved here he sent me my final check and a nice letter with a little extra money, presumably because he knows I am poor and just moved, and he sent out my paycheck late, and because I wrote him a nice note before I left. I’m a pro at thank you notes, I’ve been known to make people cry. Anyways, that’s been hanging out in my wallet for about two years, and it has $4 on it, so I went down to the vending machine and got myself a snack on my lunch(since I ate my lunch for breakfast and didn’t have time to pack a real breakfast), and worked on my assignments for my drawing class that were due on Sunday. I was tempted to spend my $7.70 I have left on my Starbucks account on Saturday, but decided against it since I only had a half hour lunch, and I wanted to save it for a rainy day. Overall, no money spent on food on Saturday, or at all since I went shopping last Wednesday.

On Sunday, I was able to sleep in(finally) and I really took it out of proportion. I went to bed on Friday around 10, and woke just before 8 or 9, transferred back to my own bed to plug my phone in, and hung out there for awhile. I then made myself some breakfast by stealing the last of the raw eggs and some of my brothers frozen hash browns and the last of the smoked brisket my uncle gave me and made breakfast burritos. Then, like every breakfast burrito fiasco I’ve ever done in the past, I promptly fell asleep again. I think I stayed down for at least another two hours. After that I took my time getting ready for the show I was going to in Napa(Craig Ferguson: Hobo Fabulous Tour). I decided against going to V. Sattui beforehand, mostly because I’m lazy and didn’t want to get up, but also because I felt weird going there for free tastings without actually buying anything. Instead I left around 6 to give myself enough time to be able to make a stop at Dutch Bros. before the show, got about five miles before realizing I forgot MY TICKET, turned around and then came back around. I didn’t buy a T shirt at the show because they weren’t selling T shirts at the show that I could see. I think they are only available online, which means I have to consider if I really can’t live without the shirt. I also didn’t buy the California exclusive travel mug I’ve had my eye on because I really wanted the Idaho one, which my brother’s girlfriend was supposed to pick up and bring down to me, but I don’t know if she actually did. They’ve been living it up in Disneyland for the past couple of days and I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to talk to her before she leaves. I checked online a couple days ago and the Idaho one is sold out, but the California one remains. Decisions decisions…

The timing all worked out perfectly for the show, I got my drink and got to the show with about ten minutes to spare. Craig was great, he yelled at us and spoke directly to me a couple of times. The crowd average age was probably over 40, but there was a kid with his parents at the show as well. Afterwards I drove back home, finished submitting my work for class about a half hour before it was due, started a couple loads of laundry, ate some leftover orange chicken and rice(which tasted wayyyyy better leftover than fresh), and finished up my current journal. I had done my hair and make-up, so I took a few selfies and stayed up way to late jacked up on 20 ounces of coffee. Overall, it was a great day.

Today, Monday, I’m back at work. I did not hear my alarm again, probably because I was up past 2AM, and drove to work. Not a great way to start out the week. That will be another $27 commute, which is almost $10 more than it needs to be, and coming directly out of my pocket rather than the money I’ve already put into my Clipper Card. UGH! Tomorrow will be better. That’s my mantra and I’m sticking to it.

On the plus side, I remembered everything I wanted to bring to work, with the exception of my earbuds. Which means I packed my breakfast, lunch and snack and I’m ready to tackle the day. I’ll have to hang out in the parking garage until after 6:30 to get the discount rate, but I’ve got plenty to do, including a new journal, a magazine I still need to cut up, and a new week’s worth of assignments from my online class.

The first day of a new journal is always a good one. I get to number all the pages and pick out one from my collection to either continue or start anew. I picked a new one this time, one that I found recently at TJ Maxx. I’ll post a picture along with one of my selfies from yesterday. I have built up a good collection of journals, so I’m not worried about having to buy any more in the foreseeable future.

I’ve ran out of my food prep supply today, so tonight I’ll be taking inventory and see just how long I’ll have to go before making another major grocery trip. I’ll likely need to grab more milk and eggs soon if someone else in the house doesn’t do it first, but I don’t necessarily need either for what I can remember is sitting in the pantry. We will find out.

I will also need to get gas soon, thanks to all the extra driving I’ve been doing. That will be another $40 on the way home. I’m not going to miss those California gas prices.

[rox-green]

I’ve recently learned how treacherous the investment board investors hub really is......

Read below ...

https://investorshub.advfn.com/boards/read_msg.aspx?message_id=147624

Confession of a paid Basher!

This is reposted from RB

http://ragingbull.lycos.com/mboard/boards.cgi?board=IBIZ&read=17032

By: sytelover $$$

Reply To: None Friday, 20 Jul 2001 at 9:56 AM EDT

Post # of 9602

Today I want to come clean about something I feel very badly about. I cannot undo some of the things I have done, but hopefully this message will prevent other such occurrences in the future.

I am a paid basher.

Yes, it is true. Today is my last day at this company; I’m moving on to a new job. But before I go, I want to explain a few things because this just isn’t right and I won’t feel good about myself until I expose this sham. It’s hurt too many people and I don’t want it on my conscience anymore. I can no longer live with a lie.

I work for a company called Franklin, Andrews, Kramer & Edelstein in Stamford, CT. Basically, it’s a Boiler Room much like the one in the movie of the same name. The idea behind my group is to bash the price of a company’s stock down low enough to where the group of investors who retained our company’s services can buy the stock really cheap and perhaps even take it over all together.

There are approximately 70 people at the company divided into several groups. My group, consisting of 5 people, is responsible for BIFS. While I probably shouldn’t give any names of anyone working here now, what the heck, I’m leaving here, so what can they do – sue me? Ha! I can tell you that GUTTWRENCH was part of my group until he left last week, as was Richardphx. Others who have been part of this include early bashers like Epiphonics and Simontaz. You may be interested to know that some hypsters, such as Amato7 and BIFWATCHER, have also been part of the scam (more on that later).

There are several companies engaged in the bashing business – ours is not the only one. However, I can tell you that not every basher in here is a paid basher. Having done this for two years, I can usually tell who is a paid basher and who is merely someone having a little fun. While unpaid bashers have a different motive than someone like me, they can be unwilling accomplices to helping me achieve my ultimate goal and they also spread rumor and confusion throughout a room, which also helps me.

What is that goal? Well, I am merely a cog in a much larger machine, so my bosses never really explained the big picture to me, but I’d say essentially, GUTTWRENCH was right. There are several companies who are quite familiar with SWOMI and who are deathly afraid of it.

There are three types of bashers here at Franklin, Andrews, Kramer & Edelstein: Advanced, Intermediate and Beginner. An Advanced-level basher (also known as a Silver Tongued Devil) would spread false or misleading information about the company. They would deal in facts, countering every longs post with articles, news reports and opinion surveys that gave a negative impression about the company.

An Intermediate-level basher (also known as a Serpent) would try to weasel their way into the confidence of longs and create doubt using rumor or innuendo.

Finally, a Beginner-level basher (also known as a Pitchfork) would attempt to create confusion in the room by distracting other posters with satire, name calling and pointless arguments. The idea was to make sure no serious discussion of the stock could take place. A Pitchfork was usually a basher, but not always. Sometimes, we would throw in a hypster Pitchfork such as Amato7 or BIFSWATCHER to create the illusion of an argument going on. What was really funny (in a perverse way, I guess) was that Amato7 and I sat next to each other, laughing the whole time.

I was a Pitchfork. I was paid a base wage of $12 an hour for my services. I was given a $1 bonus for every post over 100 per day as well as a monthly bonus of $100 for every penny the stock had dropped from the previous month. I was also paid a bonus for bashing on weekends. While this may not sound like much, I made a decent, though dishonorable, paycheck.

Each of us sat in a small half-cubicle in a cluster with our teammates. Each group (usually five people) was made of three beginners (two who would bash and one who would hype), one intermediate and one advanced level basher. Occasionally for some of the hotter stocks, one of the beginners would be replaced by an intermediate depending on how much the stock was rising. BIFS was a low-level stock, meaning it got the 3-1-1 configuration.

Somehow, I get the feeling that JPACK2 may have worked for a basher company or knows someone who does because the “Basher Handbook” he occasionally posts is eerily similar to the one we actually use. While not a word-for-word match, I’d say it is about 90 percent the same. We do have certain rules that we follow.

First, we have to develop a character and stay within that character in order to build a “following.” My character, “Firebird_1965,” was a sarcastic, obnoxious supporter of free speech, but only when it came to bashers.

Next, we had to follow certain guidelines on what we could say. We were urged to have an “answer” to every long’s question, but we were to frame that answer in a way that ridiculed the questioner for asking such a question. However, we were never to use profanity or vulgarity because that would cause people to ignore us. We were to make fun of people, but in a civil way. The idea was to get “play,” i.e. – reaction from other posters. The more play we got, the more the room would be disrupted. Ignored posters get no play. One exception would be the hypster – since they were “defending” the stock against our onslaught, they got a little more leeway. People would side with the hypster because they thought he was real since he appeared to be on their side, but was really on ours, setting us up to disrupt the room. Padelcars is quite good at this and gets paid very well.

I’ve worked on BIFS for about three months now. In addition to the Firebird_1965 alias, I’ve used a few others on the BIFS and several other boards as well. I stuck with Firebird_1965 because it was the one that got the most play from other posters.

In closing, I feel absolutely terrible about this. It’s just awful how I’ve been part of a scam designed to cheat honest, hard-working people out of their investments all for the benefit of a few wealthy people who already have enough money to last a lifetime. These greedy people MUST be stopped. That’s why I’m posting this before I leave. I want to make up for some of the damage I’ve done. I can’t live with this lie anymore. You can’t imagine how hard it is to look at myself in the mirror each morning knowing my job is to cheat and lie.

I have to go now, I’m too broken up to continue. I hope this confession can make up for my sordid deeds; I would urge everyone who reads this to copy and repost it as many times as you can. Only by shining the light of truth can we drive these rats back into the darkness from whence they came. Believe me, they don’t want publicity.

I hope all of you can forgive me and save me a seat on that BIFS rocket to the moon. If this helps, let me leave you with this…

GO BIFS!!!!

With fervent remorse,

take from it what you want...Steve

[jsnorcross]

My Life Struggle from Poverty to Poor and Finally winning the Battle.

So I've seen a few posts on social media about the cycle of being poor and poverty. I'm not knocking any of those, as sometimes perception by people can be different, but there is something that I wanted to bring to everyone's attention (some of you may already know this); but there is a difference between being poor and impoverished. I've statuses regarding living paycheck-to-paycheck, struggling to make car and house payments and buying groceries and clothes for oneself or the family. Essentially, this is poor; you have money coming in, you may or may not qualify for state/federal benefits, but somehow, with a struggle you're getting by. Poverty is a question of a paycheck or if you have one, it is so little that the idea of having a house payment or a car payment is a pipe dream. You likely rent some low-down, slum home/apartment or something, and that is a struggle to maintain payments for. You ARE state/federal assistance for everything that you can and it's not maybe; you DEFINITELY qualify! You do most of your clothes shopping at thrift stores or take donations from friends, family, or some charity organization and just are thankful you have clothes, let alone if they're new for work/school. You continue to wear these clothes, even after they are totally worn out, too big/small for you, because you can't afford to worry about anything else. Grocery shopping is limited to community cupboards, cheap grocery stores that sell super cheap bulk "filler" foods like macaroni, hotdogs, block cheese, and peanut butter you could grease an axle with. If you're lucky, someone in the home works at a food restaurant with a really cool and giving boss that lets you take spare food home to the family; or even makes a whole meal for the family once in awhile for you to enjoy... yes, enjoy, because it's a "rich-feeling" welcome change. Everyone has experienced different struggles in their life like this... Let me tell you about mine, growing up... My mother married at a young age when she became pregnant with me. She divorced within a year; the reasons differ, depending on who you ask and I quite frankly view it as something in her past and not mine; so I let it go and live my life. Later, she met my stepfather, who was an Army Vet and a Telecommunications and Electrician (by how he was trained in the military). Of course, cause he did not follow the customary apprenticeship programs, it was difficult to find work because he didn't have the official license. Eventually we found ourselves living in a 2-floor, slum apartment in the outskirts of Philadelphia, PA. Water and electricity was the occasional luxury, but somehow it rarely got turned off, but it was always cold or hot in the house because there was no A/C and the furnace was only occasionally ran. My mother worked as a telemarketer for minimum wage for a photography studio and my stepdad was a pizza delivery guy, making less than minimum wage as tips were expected to supplement this income (yeah right). Cheap generic cereal with powdered milk was breakfast (if we had any), and thankfully, I got free school lunches in kindergarten. Dinner was macaroni and cheese; everyday, because it was a cheap filler meal. Most of my clothes came from family hand me downs that I wore until they fell apart; because we couldn't afford anything. Understand this was 1977-1979, and this is while we also received public assistance for food, welfare; we had no medical insurance to speak of. Somewhere in all that, my stepdad applied and was accepted into Lincoln Tech University in the Electrical Engineering Technician program. My stepdad continued to work 7-days a week for scraps and the occasional pizza that the owner would send home with him when he got off work after midnight. Nothing was better than being woken up at 1 a.m. to enjoy some pizza; a real treat! My stepdad would rarely sleep, except for when he was so exhausted, he collapsed with his face in a tech book. Fortunately, my stepdad was a genius; he would dream about his homework, answering the Calculus equations and wake up in the morning and hurry and right down the answers. I remember looking at his transcript later in life; he maintained a 3.6 GPA throughout school. Things never got better during that time. My occasional babysitter taught me how to read at 4 years old, so when I started kindergarten at 6 years old, I was already reading at a 4th grade level. My mother didn't start me at 5 years, because she didn't know how and was too busy trying to work to keep us alive. Fortunately, public school invested in me and I streamlined my way through gifted programs for reading, science, and mathematics. Eventually, after my stepdad graduated school he began looking for work in Electrical Engineering. It was hard, because most of the time, the hand-me-down VW bug didn't work, unless my stepdad could perform a miracle with scraps he found or someone gave him parts (we couldn't afford otherwise). My stepdad eventually found a job in Sherman, TX with Texas Instruments making around $12/hour; this was 1979 and that wage was approximately equivalent to about $38/Hour today. So I went and lived with my grandparents for the summer, while my parents drove to Oklahoma/Texas area to look for a house. They found a beat-up old trailer in a trailer park in Cartwright, Oklahoma that we settled into. It was like moving into a mansion for me. My stepdad never missed a day of work; even when the car broke down (very often) he would walk over 20 miles each direction to get to work and back home. Fortunately, he would occasionally get rides to work from strangers on the side of the road. Continuing with our good luck, he made friends with a guy named "Mark" that in exchange for gas money, would drive from Denison, TX to Cartwright, OK to pick my stepdad up for work and then drive him home again. Eventually, we saved money and was able to buy from a stranger, an old 1978 station wagon that lasted a few years. My stepdad worked hard and was given good pay raises, never laid-off, and even was promoted a few times. My mother found a warehouse shipping job at "Crazy Crow Trading Post" dealing with Native American and Frontier-style clothing, shelter, etc... for those that participated in frontier-style re-enactments. I got into Native American dancing and would go to Pow-Wows all over the place, wearing stuff that I was able to put together from what my mother was able to get for me (at a discount) from work. My mother was eventually able to go to night school at the local Vocational-Technical school (Kiamichi Vo-Tech) and get her LVN license. While my stepdad's career, combined with my mother's warehouse work, moved us from poverty to poor, my mother becoming an LVN is what helped us to move from poor to lower middle-class. I later graduated high school and pursued military service and it was during those 6 years, my mother became an RN and her and my stepdad moved into middle class and was able to finally buy new cars and a house. My life repeated much of a similar path. I left active duty with strong leadership/management skills and a California EMT certification (that Texas would not accept). I lived in a trailer home I rented, while working for K-Mart in undercover security for $6/Hour, with a girlfriend and a baby daughter on the way. I used WIC and medicaid and it was a God-send. Things changed some and I eventually found myself working in Carrollton, TX as an EMT-Intermediate for $8/Hour. I worked hard, got increased responsibilities, more pay ($12/Hour, in 1999). I left to go to school for medical ultrasound and eventually got a job, with overtime, that helped me to make over $80k/year. This was short-lived as I was soon activated in the National Guard and my income dropped to $27k/year. I had two cars, a house, and was looking at solid middle-clas with eventual quick movement to upper middle, when I lost it all in bankruptcy due to the dramatic change in income and a spouse who (unknown to me) couldn't manage money/bills properly and was having an on/off affair with an old boyfriend (we eventually divorced, when she tried to proposition one of my best friends and I was told). Upon release from active duty, I pursued a career as a police officer, rising in the ranks until I was at the Executive Command Staff level at almost $82k/year. Due to politics and burn-out, I retired 2-years ago, but fortunately had money in retirement that helped, along with temporarily returning to EMS for $10/Hour, while I went to night school. Granted, I already possessed a BA in Criminal Justice and a Masters in Public Administration. I worked on an ambulance 45 hours a week, taught college government classes on my days off, taught CPR, ACLS, & PALS on the weekends, and went to night school for almost a year. Fortunately, working 3 jobs and using my Texas Veteran's Education benefits, I didn't need public assistance, but it was still a struggle. I now make $42k/year (government IT job), own a home, and I don't really struggle anymore. However, I remember the struggle. I remember living in poverty, I remember living poor, and America needs to really look at itself and make some changes to help those still struggling to get by and even fighting to raise themselves up out of the poverty line. I have friends that make this struggle still. I see them and try to help them any way they'll let me. I don't do it because I pity them; pity is for the weak and by no means is my friend weak, but a strong, independent, fighter. I reach out because I truly care and love them. I fought the fight and won; if there is something I can do to help them win the same battle I will. Even if it's providing that little bit of sunshine to their life (like my stepdad's pizza owner did for us), with stuff for Christmas or something I know they like to have but just can't afford it right now. Very few were ever there for me, but I can be there for my people. Not out of charity, but out of love and understanding. I'm not saying if your struggle was not like mine, then you don't know what you're talking about. I'm simply trying to provide context for those that may have a hard-time understanding what poverty and poor is like; the difficulty of the struggle to rise above it and the fact is, you can overcome it, but it's hard work and you will have setbacks and triumphs; however, you can win!

[plainsimplevic]

Well - That’s One Way To Come Out At Work...

That was surprising. At work, as I've been vehemently talking about on twitter, there's been a lot of homophobic slurs being thrown around. Just as importantly, it was communicated to me that I basically needed to step up or I'd be fired. That I was “making excuses” for not doubling my output and occasionally coming in later (sometimes too late) in the day.  This is when I've done nothing but excel at this job. In fact I've been given additional responsibility and praised by those who are hardest to please! I’ve pushed through illness after illness the past 6 months. Fought through infections so painful I could feel them through the haze caused by an entire bottle of whiskey. I’ve been here in the middle of the night vibrating because my cold is that bad. I’ve gotten SURGERY because I realized a condition was affecting my work - prioritizing that over other procedures I need done because I believe in fulfilling my commitments. Period. Whatever it takes. Be they professional, personal, or in support of my loved ones. And now my dedication, competency, and integrity are being questioned and I’m being threatened on top of all the bigotry? Those are NOT things you question about me. I’m not perfect and I fuck up but those base values are what makes me, me. Hell, my motto is Honour, Courage, Integrity!

It had gotten to the point that I've been very close to exploding, quitting, calling them the bigots they were, and storming out. I nearly did so this week after one boss was subtly (though I believe ignorantly) racist and the other was using gay slurs within half an hour.

After calming myself down, my plan was to consult with some friends this week, calm down further, get some sleep, and be professional. To put in my 2 weeks, tell them why, and use the last pitiful paycheck to put myself in a position to make money by other means.

Now, as I continued to calm down, I realized that immediately pulling the trigger on quitting was an immature way to handle the situation. As much as I wanted to, the enlightened thing to do would be to open a dialogue with my bosses and trying to resolve the situation rather than treat them as hostile. Despite the evidence, there may be more going on that I’m unaware of and they may be receptive to what I have to say. What can I say? I’m a Trekkie who grew up in the TNG era. Exhaust all opportunities for discussion before taking any action that could be taken as hostile. It may sound silly, but that show was very formative for me and the principles I learned from it have helped me well in life. #IAmStarfleet

But, after FINALLY getting some sleep last night and with one of the bosses gone on a business trip, something felt right about doing this today. I’d had some sleep so I knew my emotional control would be there and I wasn’t going to act unprofessionally. The boss had just come back from a “liquid lunch” so he was relaxed but not drunk. Having come out the day before to my straight-ally coworker had heartened me. And I was not so overloaded that I couldn’t take some time and write the 3-4 pages of talking points I needed to write before hand to keep me on track if I got flustered. So, I positioned myself so that my boss couldn’t avoid me (not that he was trying - just so he knew I needed to talk to him) and asked for a half hour one on one before he left. He agreed. It was no big issue.

Now, I’ve dealt with similar situations before. When I worked political campaigns, I was not only in a much more demanding and labor intensive positions (20+ hour days for months with no ability to take weekends off) but that boss was a total, self absorbed, jackass that continued tearing me down despite all I was doing. Nothing was good enough. So I called him and demanded a meeting. He asked when I could come in. I demanded he come to me (I was an hour and a half away). I sat him down and did then what I did today. I explained the situation and told him why there was an issue. At the next team meeting he promised to do better and afterwards gave me a big hug and thanked me. He didn’t change and was eventually replaced, but the point is that I knew that this is something I could do. But that doesn’t make it less scary. Especially since this involved something so personal that I’ve had so many issues dealing with over my life. Especially since I’ve only in the past few weeks felt comfortable enough with my sexuality to begin to talk about it with straights who are my long term friends. It surprised the heck out of me when I came out to my co-worker yesterday. #Scary.

I also had several people cautioning me not to do this. My mother was the most adamant. But also a friend who was concerned that this place was so hostile that I might just face further discrimination. For insight into my mindset, and really, just who I am, I want to quote an excerpt from my response to that.

“The bigotry, lack of respect, and lack of compensation is whats bugging me. If this convo fixes that...  Long hours I'm meh about and I enjoy the work. And that’s not judging others. That’s just who I am. I'm the guy who has the guts to face things head on. Stare the darkness in the face and dare it to extinguish my light. If I lose that, I lose everything. I cant have that with every other aspect of my life and not this now that I've accepted it.”

And for those who are going to criticize me and say that my lack of self acceptance of my sexual identity disproves that statement let me point a couple things out. 1) Bandwidth. Without going into too much detail, my life, especially the past 10 years, has been ROUGH. It’s hard to do things like process your sexuality issues when you’re doing things like working 16 hour days while a tooth rots in your head because you can’t afford to get the root canal you need because all you’re money’s going into making the choice between food and bills. Or when everyone around you, with the exception of your mother, does not seems to be but is actually dying or abandoning you. 2) Lack of community. I’m just a man and I have my limits - sometimes I need help. By reaching out for that help, I’m proving my statements about myself true. I haven’t had anyone I could turn to and ask, “what was it like for you?”. No-one to relate to. No-one to tell me that there’s nothing wrong with me. I didn’t even have support outside the queer community - much less in it. Every time I reached out the past 5 or 6 years to try to get that support, I was shut down in some way. I community members shrug and be dismissive, not understand the traumas involved with growing up Catholic and in a homophobic setting. I had people point to some reading material, pat me on the head, and send me on my merry - not truly understanding the damage 25+ years of internalized homophobia can cause. I had one gal talk about bi-erasure in one breath, insist I’m straight in the other, declare how lesbians are superior to all others, and then try to get my to apologize for being a cishet man. Which, growing up primarily raised by women, having strong memories of sitting around the table as they talk about how horrible men are, and wondering how much I should hate myself for my gender did NOT go over well. But I digress.

So the time for the meeting came and I told my boss everything. I told him that he needed to quit the gay slurs. That I was bi. That I had met and was falling for the most amazing guy which had inspired me to make another attempt at confronting these issues. That the past couple months have been awesome and positive but extremely intense. That there’s been many times where I’ve held it together and then just stared into my monitor for hours unable to do anything but have tears in my eyes. That I’ve been on my laptop so much because I’m getting (and giving) support. That I’m afraid that some of my friends may end themselves and not be there tomorrow. Of all the illness I’ve been pushing through. And how, through it all, I still got the job DONE.

And the response was shocking. He was completely taken aback. He asked, “what slurs?” I gave him an example and he asked if I was gay. I told him bi and he laughed and exclaimed how insensitive he’s been and immediately apologized. He lit up and exclaimed how awesome it was when I said I was falling for (again) the most amazing man (hard). He said how he has no issues with queer folk and told me of his gay friend with a similar background to me. He told me how, when he grew up, they used those terms all the time to effectively mean asshole but had no clue what they meant and that they had just become reflex - but that was no excuse. That I was valued and appreciated.

And then, no joke, he asked me what I needed on my projects and the entire thing became, among other things a pitch session and him putting many of his resources at my disposal.

Also, it turns out that the “firing” thing was because the other boss was freaking out about how a couple of business partners who were funding my salary simply didn’t like having to pay me and, for that reason alone which nothing to do with me, were looking for any excuse to “cut costs.” From my own deductions, I now realize that it’s mostly that I haven’t been putting up enough of a “show” of working on the rare occasion they’ve been around which is probably making it harder for that boss to defend me. Also, I’m 90% sure this is that guy’s first time managing someone and I know for a fact that this is his first time working in this industry and dealing with certain types of personalities - like said business partners. These are things that I have decades of experience with in one for or another so, now that I know that I know what his issues largely are, I plan on having a similar talk with him and advise/support him. I’ve been in that position before and watched it blow up in my face. Honestly, he’s fucking lucky it’s me and not someone else - they would have stormed out. I know. I’ve been the one stormed out on.

I think there might be a couple of translation-to-this-industry issues as well so I’ll talk to him about that too. And, apparently, the boss I talked to has had to pull that boss aside a few times recently.

So, yeah. That was probably the best coming-out-at-work experience I could have had. We’ll see if the boss I spoke to lives up to his promises but, as of now, things are looking up. I’m so glad that I haven’t been too traumatized in life that I can still hope. Maybe I’m just too stubborn an asshole to let it go. But it’s that hope that led me to try the diplomatic path. That allowed me to adhere to my values and belief that dialogue and understanding can solve nearly all situations so long as both sides listen.

And yes, those are Starfleet values. And if that’s too corny for you I have 2 things to say. 1) Read the above book-of-a-blog again and tell me how I’m wrong when EVERYONE else (except Mom) was telling me that the only solution was to quit in a righteous rage. 2) Fuck off you ignorant, pessimistic, little shit. #IAmStarfleet #FirstDutyToTheTruth #TrekTillIDie

I may still leave here soon for various other reasons, but now, rather than making enemies here I’ll leave with (assuming words meet deeds - which evidence so far here as indicated) A) the use of these facilities for my own projects, B) plenty of time to prepare, and C) A financial cushion to aid in the transition.

Thanks to Danni, Alex, and Kaeden who’s support and affections have been crucial in helping me get to the point where I’m secure enough in my identity that I can tackle issues like this. Thank you for being my community.