monochrome brushstrokes // phan

chapter 9

It was the end of the first week of tour and Phil had successfully claimed the large bedroom. He missed Dan, although the constant Skype calls helped a little. The short video calls could never replace the familiar smell and warmth that the younger man had that put Phil's mind at ease. 

The raven-haired man ached for Dan's presence. It closely resembled homesickness, although Phil didn't think it could be possible to find home in a human. Besides, he hadn't even known Dan for a year and yet he was so emotionally attached to him. Perhaps it was because Phil never really had a set "home". 

As a child, he was constantly moving due to his mother's job. His father was often on business trips at months at a time. When he'd return, his father often brought back strange and quirky knickknacks for younger Phil and his sister. Though Phil enjoyed and appreciated them, he knew a decorated Norwegian Yo-Yo could never fill the hole in his childhood where the memories spent with his dad should've been. 

Phil could still recall the look on his dad's face when he would shout at his mother for forgetting to tell him their new address. Then, his mum would usually snap back by saying how she had to practically raise the kids on her own. However, they never fought for long, and he usually found his mum cuddled up in his dad's arms afterwards.  

When Phil was finally able to move out, he usually stayed over his friends's flats, as he couldn't afford one of his own. He never stayed long at any particular one, and hardly had time to actually relax due to university and working on creating a future for his band. 

When Phil had finally been able settle down enough to move into the apartment above Dan's, he couldn't believe that he'd finally found a place to call his own. But more importantly, he'd found a person to call his own.

"Phil? Are you alright?" Caspar asked, shaking the vocalist out of his thoughts.

"Hmm? Yeah, sorry, zoned out a little bit." Phil smiled, weakly.

"Alright, just let me know if you wanna talk about anything." Caspar replied knowingly before changing the subject. "We're going out to eat tonight, right after PJ is done in the shower."

"Where are we eating?" Phil inquired.

"Phil. I think it's quite obvious. We've both seen the way Joe was eyeing that Thai place." Caspar answered, earning him a laugh from Phil.

"Thai it is then."

****

Saying that Dan missed Phil would be an understatement. He never really thought about how much time he spent with the other man until he was gone. Well, not gone gone, but rather physically gone. At least, Dan prayed that nothing happened to him.

The Skype calls and texts were nice, but so much of Phil's current situation was hidden from Dan. The painter kept reminding himself that Phil was too good for him, that he was probably partying and getting drunk and fucking a few people. Deep inside, Dan knew that Phil wasn't like that, though his trust issues said otherwise.

What if the Phil I knew was a lie? A character created in order to ruin me? What if Phil was hired by my father to hurt me? No one that perfect would ever spend time with such a broken person like me. He'll probably leave when he gets back from tour, or maybe even break up with me through text. After all, I'm not worth being seen in person. Phil will probably find someone better, and I'll accept their relationship because I need to show my father that these things won't destroy me.

Dan tried desperately to shake away the darker thoughts coming into his head. To say the least, the brunet wished he had taken Phil up on the offer to come.

The younger man channeled his emotion into a painting. Today he was using acrylic, brushing black strokes onto the canvas. After an hour or two of furiously painting, Dan stepped away. The piece resembled as though you were laying in a hole, looking upward towards the light. 

The brunet took one glance at the work before ripping it in half and throwing it in the trashcan. As soon as he had turned away from the destroyed painting, there was a loud knock on the door.

"I just want to talk," a familiar voice shouted from outside, sending chills up Dan's spine.

The young man slowly opened the door.

The same brown met brown.

******

author's note // dan's daddy might have left, but his dad is paying him a visit