#platonic!phan

Phil couldn’t wait for his first year of Hogwarts. His older brother, Martyn, has always talked about how amazing the school is, and Phil would listen in awe, dreaming about the day he would get his letter for the wizarding school.

And today was the day Phil would begin his first year at Hogwarts. Phil shoved his breakfast in his mouth, desperate to get on the way to the train station. Phil’s mother smiled at his enthusiasm and told him to “calm down now dear, don’t want you choking before you can even get on the train.”

After breakfast Phil got dressed and ready to leave. He knew that they weren’t leaving until 9:30, (he has the exact time embedded into his brain) but he wanted to be 100 percent ready, trunk packed with all his needed belongings.

By 9:00, the Lesters had the car all packed and ready. Phil reminded everyone in the house, (even the family owl), that they were leaving in 30 minutes. He was jumping on the balls of his feet in front of the front door, smiling like a maniac. He couldn’t help it, he was ecstatic.

Finally, 9:30 arrived and the family of four piled into their car. On the way to Kings Cross, Phil was bouncing in his seat, going on and on about how he couldn’t decide on what house would be best for him. His mother said that Phil would do well in any house and Martyn said that he thinks he’ll end up in Hufflepuff.

“What’s wrong with Hufflepuff?” Phil asked Martyn.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it, it’s just you’re too nice and happy to be in any of the others.” His brother shrugged.

Phil rolled his eyes. So what if he was nice and happy? He honestly didn’t see anything wrong with that, or with Hufflepuff, and he looked out of his window.

They pulled into the train station at 10:25.

Phil’s face stretched into the widest smile he feels he’s ever given. His parents unloaded the car and Phil hurried to the back of the car to grab his trunk. He wanted to squeal in happiness. Right across from him was his gateway to the best school of witchcraft and wizardry. In that moment, Phil decided that he would become the best wizard he could be. He wanted to create history.

~~~

Finding his way on the train and into an open compartment was fairly easy, much to Phil’s surprise. Martyn had told Phil that, “the easiest way to make friends was to sit by yourself and look like you’re welcoming.” Obviously, Phil believed him and went into the first open compartment he could find.

Sitting down on the squishy train seats and swinging his legs, Phil put on his bet smile and waited for someone to find his compartment. People would walk past him, some with friends, some without, but none stopped at his compartment. Phil didn’t understand, why didn’t anyone want to sit with him? Did he not look welcoming enough?

Just as Phil was about to give up hope and try and find his brother, the door slide open, revealing and boy about his height, with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. He had an anxious look about him, chewing his bottom lip and eyes wide with something Phil could only associate with fear.

“Um, hello,” the curly-haired boy said in a small voice. “Is this seat taken?”

Phil’s face spread into a grin. “No, not yet. You can have it, if you’d like.”

The boy’s face flooded with relief and he breathed out a small “thank you.” Phil looked at the boy as he placed his trunk above him. The boy then sat back down, book in hand, and began to read. Phil wanted to ask for his name, but he didn’t want to disturb the boy’s reading.

After about a few minutes of silence, the compartment door slide open again. Phil perked up, maybe this will be the person who will become his best friend.

Stood in the opening of the compartment was two boys and one girl, all three looking very serious. Like they meant business.

“Hello,” Phil began as cheerful as he could. The curly-haired boy who was reading slowly lowered his book to look over at the door.

“Hi,” One boy, supposably the leader or the group, said with a tone that slightly took the tone of disgust. He looked over at the curly-haired boy, who was looking determinedly out the window.

“Dan,” The same boy said. “What are you doing in here?”

The curly-haired boy—Dan—kept his eyes focused firmly out the window. The boy raised his eyebrow.

“Dan?”

The boy called Dan made a small noise in his throat and swallowed. He muttered something to the boy at the door.

“What was that?” The boy asked. Phil was starting to think he was slightly annoying.

“I wanted to be alone, Chris.” Dan said in a quiet voice. Everything about this boy seemed soft and quiet, and, for some reason, Phil wanted to see the real Dan, see what he really was like.

“Alone? Why?” The boy Dan had called Chris said the last part like he thought it was wrong for someone to be alone. Phil didn’t blame Dan though. If he was hanging around someone like Chris, he’d want some alone time too.

Dan’s cheeks started to take on a pink tint. “And you’re not even alone. He’s in here with you.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows. What was wrong with him? Why did Chris say it like Phil was terrible or something of the sort.

“Yeah, well he isn’t rude to me,” Dan murmured so Chris couldn’t here him.

“What was that?” Chris said in a menacing tone.

Well, so much for Chris not hearing him.

Immediately, Dan’s eyes widened and Dan finally looked over at the door. “Nothing!” Dan exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything!”

Chris grunted. “Listen here, Howell, my parents told he to become friends with you because our parents are friends. I promised them I’d be nice to you, but if you’re not gonna corporate, I’ll have no choice but to force you to be my friend. I don’t want this anymore than you do. Alright?”

Phil felt that things were getting a little too far, so he stepped in. “I’m sure Dan can find other people who actually want to be his friend.”

All four students shifted their eyes onto Phil, who was looking at Chris. Phil shifted his eyes to Dan who looked shocked at Phil’s interjection, with his cheeks now bright red.

“Oh yeah? And who would want to be friends with him?” Chris narrowed his eyes at Dan. “He’s a pathetic little gay-”

“Excuse me!” Dan glared at Chris. “I am not gay!” He said, tone almost angry. Phil didn’t understand. Gay? What was wrong with being gay? Phil’s parents are friends with a gay couple, and he had never thought anything wrong of someone fancying the same gender. 

Chris rolled his eyes. Phil got up from his seat to move next to Dan and put his arm around him. Dan blushed.

“I’ll be his friend.” Phil said determinedly. Dan whipped his head around to look at Phil. He stared incredulously at Phil. Chris scoffed. “Right good luck with that. PJ, Zoe, let’s go back to our carriage.”

And with that, the three students left. Phil got up and closed the door, then sat back down, this time across from Dan.

“Thanks.” Dan said, in that small voice again, looking at his shoes.

“Don’t mention it. That Chris guy seemed really annoying.”

Dan chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve known him for five years. Our parents are good friends, but, obviously, we aren’t.”

Phil nodded. “I’m Phil.” He extended his hand, which Dan shook timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Phil. I’m Dan.”

The rest of the train ride was spent talking and laughing, and Phil felt like there was a start to a long friendship, right here, sitting across from him, brown eyes, curly hair and all.

~~~~

One of the features of their new apartment was a balcony where, when it wasn’t too hot outside, Dan liked to spend a good portion of his afternoon as he scrolled through tumblr. Today was one of those days, where it wasn’t boiling hot but rather the perfect summer temperature to hang outside in.

Dan was reclining in their porch chair, indulging in his guilty pleasure of reading phanfictions. It wasn’t his fault that they were so well written and appeared so much on his dashboard and tag. He only stuck to the fluff section, as angst made him cry and smut was awkward to say the least (Dan did not want to know how his audience perceived him having sex, especially with his best friend). Even though it should have crept him out that he enjoyed reading fiction about himself, he wasn’t too bothered by it. Dan didn’t see it as himself in the story, but rather a Dan that the author came up with. After all, it was impossible for his audience to know all of his personality and reactions.

Dan yawned, halfway through another phanfiction. The warm summer sun was making him drowsy and he knew that he would fall asleep soon if he wasn’t careful. He was contemplating getting up when suddenly a hand began tickling his neck from behind. Dan immediately screeched, almost throwing his phone off the balcony as his hands rushed to defend his neck. 

“Phil, you twat!” Dan yelled, the offender giggling mischievously. 

“I can’t believe you’re outside for once,” Phil teased, “And yet you’re still on your phone.”

Dan rolled his eyes, picking back up his phone and opening it again. “I’ll have you know that I was doing very important business.”

Phil squinted at the screen over Dan’s shoulder, reading what was on it. “I don’t think reading phanfiction counts as important business, Dan.”

Dan blushed, muttering something unintelligent. Phil knew that Dan liked to read phanfiction, but it never stopped him from being embarrassed every time Phil found out. “Shut up,” Dan managed.

Phil walked over and abruptly sat on Dan’s lap, making the younger boy squeak. “If it’s so important, why don’t you let me read it as well? Start from the beginning, though.”

Dan pulled up his phone so Phil could see it as well, scrolling back up to the top. He felt Phil relax into him, settling in to read. Phil read it intently while Dan was still flustered over being found out.

“I really like the author’s style,” Phil commented quietly.

Dan looked up at him, startled. “I mean- yeah, they’re really good at setting the scene. The dialogue doesn’t flow as nice as some, but it’s still easy to understand.”

Phil nodded in agreement, his focus returning to the story. He grabbed Dan’s phone and took over scrolling whenever he was finished with the page, catching up to where Dan was at. They read at a similar pace, however if Phil ever scrolled too early Dan would poke him and whine about him going too fast.

“It was a cute story,” Phil admitted, handing the phone back. “I liked it.”

Dan pocketed his phone, humming in agreement. He wrapped his arms around Phil, squeezing him closer. “So basically it’s everything you dreamed of,” Dan teased.

Phil tried to elbow him, but Dan’s grip was too strong. “You wish.”

Dan snickered. “You know what we should read next?”

“What?” “Daddy kink with slight bdsm smut.”

Phil face palmed. “When will you die.”

Dan tickled Phil lightly, making him squirm. “Then after we read it, we should reenact it.”

“Yes, of course,” Phil said sarcastically. He leaned towards Dan’s face, making ridiculous kissing noises.

Dan moaned sexually, earning an eye roll from Phil. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

The two burst into laughter at their antics, Phil leaning affectionately into Dan. He nuzzled into his hair as he tried to stifle his laughter. When their laughter finally died down, Phil sighed contently.

“You’re a nerd,” Phil mumbled into Dan’s hair.

“So are you.” Dan gently adjusted his grip on Phil so that the two were comfortably cuddling.

Phil melted even more into Dan’s grip. He lifted his head for a moment to kiss Dan’s dimple. 

Dan blushed, smiling even more. “Bro, your masculinity,” he said in a deep, manly voice.

“I don’t need masculinity when I have you, bro,” Phil replied in the same voice. “Bro.” Dan giggled, giddy with affection for his best friend. 

Phil poked Dan’s cheek. “Make me some dinner, bro?”

“Really Phil?” Dan groaned. He would have protested more, but Phil was giving him the sad puppy eyes that Dan couldn’t say no to. Dan sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.”

“I think you meant to say, ‘anything for you bro’.” 

Dan considered shoving Phil off his lap. “I hate you.”

Phil giggled, his tongue poking out. “You know you love me. Now, food.”

Dan rolled his eyes, smiling. “Whatever, nerd.”

The two headed inside, Phil teasing Dan the whole way. Though Dan pretended to be offended, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Be a good bro and get me some chocolate.” “If you say bro one more time, Phil, I swear to god-”

Dan sighed, tossing his phone to the side. He decided to get up to see what Phil was doing. He left his room and headed to their living area. He saw Phil sitting on the couch playing around on his laptop.

Dan dropped down onto the couch, resting himself beside Phil. Dan glanced over at the TV, only to notice a rerun of some cooking show was playing. He stared at the screen for a few moments before grabbing the remote that was previously lying next to him. He started to flip through the channels, only to stop when he heard Phil complain.

“Dan,” Phil whined, “I was watching that.”

Dan raised his eyebrows at Phil, as if to say, seriously?

“Give it back?” Phil asked, giving Dan puppy dog eyes.

“No, you weren't even watching anything, you were on your laptop.” Dan said matter-of-factly.

Phil glared at him and glanced back at his laptop before shutting it and tossing it to the side. Dan thought he was done complaining and was actually going to sit quietly but no. Phil briefly looked at the TV before jumping onto Dan and quickly snatching the remote from his hand.

“Hey! That's not fair!” Dan shrieked, his voice going a little higher than normal.

“Yes it is, I had it first, anyway.” Phil replied teasingly, a wide smile gracing his lips. Phil’s tongue stuck out from behind his teeth, much like it always did when he smiled or laughed.

Dan wanted to pretend to pout and be mad at him, he really did, but when Phil had such a happy smile on his face he couldn't.

“Fine, watch whatever, but if you put on that dumb cooking show again I'll punch you.” Dan grumbled.

“Alright, fine.” Phil replied simply, almost as an automatic response.

Phil flipped through the channels before settling on a simple movie that they'd both seen.

Dan didn't protest and they both said nothing more as they sat comfortably in the silence that laced over them.

As the movie went on, they both started curling up closer to each other while simultaneously falling into a deep sleep.

The last thing Dan remembered before falling asleep was Phil resting his head atop his shoulder.

-

“-an. Dan, wake up.” The low grumble of Phil’s voice awoke Dan from his rest.  

“What?” He asked groggily, sitting up from his position on the couch.

“I figured you wouldn't want to sleep on the couch all night.” Phil mumbled sweetly, “come to bed?” Phil tugged at Dan’s sweater, almost like how a small child would when asking for something.

Dan gave him a weak nod, clearly still sleepy. He let Phil guide him to his room, not protesting when he brought Dan to Phil’s room instead.

They slept together in each other's beds sometimes, they had a mutual, unspoken agreement that whenever either of them were feeling sad or just lonely, they could go to the other’s room for comfort. And then there were the times where they just simply wanted each other's company, much like right now.

As soon as Dan walked through the door of Phil’s room he flopped onto his bed and cuddled under the blankets. He closed his eyes and started to drift off into sleep.

Before sleep completely took him over he mumbled a small, “G’night, Phil.”

He faintly heard Phil say a goodnight to him in return.

-

Dan woke up the next morning to the sun glaring through the opening of the window.  He made a note to complain to Phil about leaving the blinds open. He silently scowled at the window before turning his body so he was facing away from it. He’s too lazy to get up and close it.

It was then that Dan noticed Phil’s arms were lazily wrapped around his body. He felt Phil shuffle from beside him, adjusting himself so he was more comfortable. Phil was still asleep, unaware of what he was doing. Not that it mattered, Phil would still be cuddling with him even if he was awake. It wasn’t exactly odd that Phil would cuddle with him; they cuddled all the time.

Dan took a moment to wonder what all their fans would think about what they were doing. They’d probably freak out and many of them would likely have heart attacks (figuratively, of course). Dan didn’t understand, didn’t most best friends do things like this? What made him and Phil so special? Was it because they put their lives on the internet?

Maybe he was trying too hard to understand. Maybe he was simply supposed to be grateful for the boy sleeping next to him. Maybe he was just supposed to love and enjoy the company of the boy lying next to him while it lasted.

Only five minutes in, but so far everything seems fine. They’re taking questions from the crowd and discussing topics.

“You, with the pink hair” The voice of the technician says, pointing towards a girl midway through the crowd. The technician makes his way over to her and points the microphone at her face.

“Dan, will you play us anything on the piano that’s on stage ?” the girl asked.

Phil looks over at Dan, and he can see him looking uncomfortable.

"Ummm - uh, I d-don't know ..." he stuttered, glancing over at Phil, obviously wondering how to get out of it. But the damage was already done. The crowd was going crazy, chanting "play, Dan, play". Even the other Youtubers on stage were staring at Dan expectantly.

"Only if it's okay with the stage manager... " Dan says in a last ditch attempt to be able to say no without seeming like a dick. Unfortunately, Mr Stage Manager gives him the thumbs-up from the wings. Crap.

Dan stands up and makes his way over to the grand piano, sighing. What was he even going to play?

He sits down at the piano bench and stretches his fingers. As it always did, inspiration on what to play hits him at the last second before his fingers touched the keys.

My computer thinks I'm gay

I threw that piece of junk away

On the Champs-élysee

As I was walking home

This is my last communique Down the superhighway All that I have left to say in a single tome

He hasn't even realised that he’s started singing, but as his voice reverberates round the hall from the speakers, he’s transported into the world of his music. He forgets all about the crowd, the stage and the people on it. The words he’s singing and the chords coming out of the piano were the only things he hears. He closes his eyes in order to appreciate it to the full.

I got too many friends Too many people that I'll never meet And I'll never be there for I'll never be there for 'Cause I'll never be there

The undeniable truth of the words resonates in his head. This song conveys everything he felt on those bad days, the days when he saw posts on Twitter about a teenage girl or boy who'd say things like "I want to end it all Dan, what do I do?" or "follow me Dan or I'll cut myself" (Admittedly the former was more often than the latter, he was no Harry Styles), the days when he'd Tumblr posts saying that people had had horrible days, but felt better after watching his videos. There was so much pressure on him to be everyone's Saviour, but in reality he was worse off than them in a sense. He couldn't even help himself or of his existential crises, he needed someone with him to help him pull through. So how could he help someone else sort themselves out, when he was such a mess himself.

If I could give it all away Would it come back to me someday? Like a needle in the hay or an expensive stone

But I got a reason to declaim The applications are to blame For all my sorrow and my pain A feeling so alone

I got too many friends Too many people that I'll never meet And I'll never be there for I'll never be there for 'Cause I'll never be there

Dan may be in his own world, but everyone else is avidly watching him. The crowd is completely silent, a first for Vidcon’s main stage.The Youtubers on stage are pretty quiet too, hearing the resonance in Dan’s words. Phil is the only one unfazed by the playing: he’s seen Dan play -and sing- many a time, and especially this song in particular.He was shocked however: whenever dan played this song, he tended to spend the rest of the day in his room, away from the world, which would be impossible in the middle of Vidcon.

My computer thinks I’m gay

what’s the difference anyway

when all the people do all day

Is stare into a phone?

I got too many friends

Too many people that I’ll never meet

And I’ll never be there for

I’ll never be there for

‘Cause I’ll never be there

Dan is pulled from his world of music as the last notes ring out from the piano. He hadn’t noticed the tears falling from his face, but as he lifts his hand and wipes the tear stain from his cheek, he can’t deny it. The fact that thousands of people are watching him crashed through his brain, and he looks up to see all their faces, gawking at him in silence. Starting to panic, he looks up at Phil desperately. Phil understands what Dan is saying with his eyes, stands up and quickly makes his way towards the brunet. He grabs the man by his arm and pulls him off the bench and together they almost run off stage, ignoring the crowd that has been knocked out of their stupor and that are now shouting after them. They run through the vidcon halls, earning them some bizarre looks, down the road to their hotel, up the stairs to the 3rd floor instead of taking the lift like they would normally have done, and they don’t stop until they were inside their room.

As soon as Phil shuts the door, Dan cracks. He falls down to the floor, puts his head in between his legs with his hands around the back of his neck, and starts crying.

Phil sits down next to him and wraps his arms around him, knowing it’s going to be a while before Dan’s capacity for communication returns.

~~~~LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK~~~~

About an hour and a half later, the pair still haven’t moved from the spot on the floor, although they have changed position. Phil is sitting upright with his legs straight out, and Dan is now lying down, curled up in a ball with his head in Phil’s lap, his wrecked sobs have turned into the odd hiccup and sniffle. After a fair while crying his eyes out embarrassingly loudly, he was subdued by Phil alternating between stroking his arm and his hair.

“What am I going to do, Phil?” Dan asks, his voice croaky. It's the first thing he’s said since he left the stage.

“What do you mean ?” Phil questions, already knowing the answer.

“About the subscribers! I bared my heart out to them unintendedly on stage, at the biggest Youtube convention of the year, and then ran off in tears ! I’ll never be able to go on the internet again !!” He whines, his eyes filling back up with tears.

Phil pulls Dan closer, gently rocking them back and forth in an attempt to quell Dan’s growing anxiety.

“Shhhh” He reassures “It’ll be fine. You know they’ll understand. They’re not idiots, they’ll know you don’t want to talk about it, so they’ll keep their mouths shut. Hopefully. But if they don’t, I’ll… throw pebbles at them.”

“Thanks Phil, you always know what to say. I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes” Dan admits.

“You’d be a very sad lawyer” The black haired man jokes, making them both giggle. “But you know, the feeling’s mutual. I wouldn’t be nearly as happy as I am today without you”.

~~~

A few sour notes from the keyboard in the lounge rang out through the flat.

“Phil!” Dan shouted. “Phil, what are you doing?”

“I'm teaching myself piano!” Phil called back.”

“At” – Dan glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer screen – “two in the morning – fucking hell, Phil, could you have chosen a worse time to learn how to play?”

“Sorry! I couldn't sleep! And it's not like I'm disturbing you from anything important!”

“Tumblr is important,” Dan grumbled, crawling out of his bed.

“No, no, no!” Phil protested when he saw his flatmate emerge from his room. “Go back to the internet, I promise I can figure this out on my own.”

“Nope. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this right.” Dan sat down on the bench next to his friend. “Okay, what did you choose – Fur Elise. You chose Fur Elise. Phil, this is advanced shit. This is beyond advanced. This is practically fucking expert. You don't start with Beethoven. You start with... I don't know, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, or something.”

A red tinge crept onto Phil's cheeks. “Sorry. I just like the song! Besides, you have it memorised; how hard can it be? I can pick something else, if this is too hard...”

“No, just...” Dan shook his head. “It's fine. It's too late to bother with find something else. Now, are you capable of playing the first measure?”

“Umm...”

“...Phil. Can you even read music?”

“Umm...” Phil said again, his face getting redder by the second.

Dan's face met his palm. “Phil,” he groaned. “Okay.” He pointed to the first note. “Do you know what note this is?”

“It's a.... A... A G?” Phil guessed.

“An E. And the key that note corresponds to is...?”

“Er... That one?” Phil jabbed his finger at a random key, sending a loud middle C through the flat.

“That's a C, Phil.”

Phil moved his finger up two keys.

“Wrong E. You're on the bottom line of the staff right now.”

Phil scoured the keyboard for the next highest key that looked like the one he had previously chosen.

“Excellent. Now the next note?”

“D sharp!” Phil exclaimed. “See! I know some stuff. Like what the hashtag means.”

“Except it's called a sharp sign.”

“I knew that...” Phil mumbled.

“Anyway, what key is that, then?”

Phil chose the next white key down.

“Black key,” Dan corrected him. Phil quickly moved his finger.

“Okay so you know how to read music.”

“Yes. Kind of.”

“Now the notes with one flag get one beat, two flags get half a beat, and no flags gets two beats. And you're supposed to play this softly. Okay?”

“Got it. What's a beat?”

Dan sighed yet again. He stood, moved behind Phil, placed his hands over his friend's, and began to play, giving Phil a feel for the music. He looked down at the mess of black hair below him.

“That's what you're getting yourself into.”

Phil looked up at Dan. “I think I'll go to bed.”

Previous incidents from when I had done that included pouring my coffee into my cereal bowl instead of milk, falling down the stairs and going to the shops, only to realise halfway there that I was just wearing pyjama bottoms.

That morning was no different. I knew I was bound to do something stupid. It was only a matter of time.

I threw on the t-shirt that I had been wearing the night before and adjusted my duvet so it didn't look like a bomb had just exploded on it. Normally when I was extremely tired, I barely moved whilst I was asleep, but it seemed like all I had done that night was toss and turn.

As I left my room, I cast a quick look into the bedroom opposite, only to find it empty. I saw from the clock on his bedside table that it was past 2 pm and silently cursed. My sleeping patterns were seriously out of sync with the rest of the world's.

I shuffled down to the kitchen, only remembering at the last second that the glass door was shut and I just managed to save myself for crashing into it head first.

I saw that the kettle still had some water in it and pressed my hand against the side to see if it was still warm enough to drink. It was stone cold. I flicked the little switch and while I waited for it to boil, I got my bowl and cereal out and started to make myself some breakfast.

I added the milk to my cereal and then moved the bowl out of the way so I wouldn't accidentally pour my boiling water into that instead of my mug. After pouring out the water, I put milk into my coffee concoction and took a grateful slip, forgetting that it was boiling water I had just put in. "Fuck," I said as I slammed the mug back onto the counter.

"Dan?" I heard Phil's voice come from another part of the apartment.

"I'm fine!" I shouted back as I placed both my hands against the edge of the counter and leant forward. I have to start going to bed earlier, I told myself, although I knew it would be a long time before that happened.

I took hold of my cup and bowl and headed through to the lounge. I hoped that there would be some crappy daytime TV show on to wake me up properly.

I put my things down on the table and just as I moved to go and sit down on the sofa, I noticed that I had forgotten to bring a spoon. The noise that left my mouth was a sort of pained grunt.

I stormed back into the kitchen, opening the cutlery draw, took out a spoon and headed back into the lounge. I was so preoccupied with the fact that I had managed to forget a spoon, that I didn't look at where I was about to sit down.

CRUNCH. I felt something press into my bum and immediately leapt up from the sofa. I turned around quickly and saw Phil's glasses in two pieces where I had just sat down.

I reached down and picked up the broken bits. One of the arms had snapped off the main frame, but luckily it seemed that the glass bits had not cracked.

I stood there with the pieces in my hands for quite a while, deliberating what would be the best thing to do. I knew that it was definitely something that I couldn't hide from Phil, so I had to tell him.

My walk to the office, where I could hear him tapping, was a long one. I purposely made every step as short as possible so I had more time to think about what I could say to him.

I knocked lightly on the door and a muffled, "Come in," came through the wood. I put the broken frame in one hand behind my back and with the other I pushed the painted white door open.

"Hey," I said. Phil turned around in his chair after taking his headphones off and looked up at me expectantly. "I..." I started and then flattered.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Yes." I sighed. "I was up late editing last night and well, you know how I get after that." I could see from his expression that he was thinking of the many incidents I had caused. "I'm sorry, it was an accident."

I took out the glasses from behind my back and let them lay in my open palm for Phil to see. A pained look crossed his face, before settling back down to normal. Then he did what I least expected from him; he laughed.

I stood there, very confused and unsure of what to do or say next. "But, I broke them."

Phil's laughter died down and he said, "Yes."

I sighed and replied saying, "That's not very helpful."

"It's okay. I was waiting for this day really, the day when it finally wasn't me who broke them." He picked up the pieces from my hand and turned in the spinning chair so he could put them on the desk.

"Won't it cost you loads to fix them though?" I asked.

He spun back to me. "Why do you think I always get the cover out on them?" he asked in reply. "Don't worry, we'll take them down to the opticians today and I have a spare pair anyway."

"So it's okay? I didn't ruin your life or anything?"

"No, you silly potato. In fact, that's probably the most exciting thing that's happened to me in weeks."