Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dan hurried up the path towards the rather imposing building, aware that he was just about on the acceptable side of being late.

The production company had offered to send him a car, but the traffic in London meant it was just as quick to walk. As he made his way through the gilded doors into the lobby of the gallery, a young woman with a headset on rushed up to greet him.

"Hi Dan, great to have you with us today," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm Chloe, one of the production assistants. I'll take you through to the green room, they’re just getting started on makeup.”

Dan followed her as she bustled down an empty corridor, his long legs easily keeping up with her quick pace.

This had all been his agent's idea, part of her ongoing attempts to raise his profile. She’d made an acerbic comment about the struggle of working with clients who hire her to promote them and then don't take any of her advice.

Suitably chastised, Dan had forced himself to read the email full of suggestions she'd sent him the week before. He'd scanned through the list and decided a TV show where all he had to do was sit still for four hours while someone painted his portrait was the best of all the options she’d pitched him.

He'd actually been begrudgingly charmed when, after getting confirmed for the show, he watched a couple of episodes to see exactly what he was getting himself into. Each week a group of nine artists, both professional and amateur, painted the portrait of one of three celebrity sitters and one was selected by the judges to progress to the next round. The overall winner of the series would be commissioned to paint a portrait that would hang in one of the most prestigious galleries in London, and presumably have a big boost to their career.

"So who else is on the show today?” Dan enquired.

“Today we’ve got Rebecca Horlock - the actress?  And Sir Robert Jenkins,” Chloe replied.

Dan perked up at hearing Rebecca’s name; she’d had a distinguished career on the stage in years gone by. She was more famous these days for playing a hard-nosed detective on a BBC crime drama, but he was still excited at the chance to meet her.

The second guest though was another story, a former Tory politician who had long retired, but still popped up regularly on the Sunday morning political shows to spout his outdated views. Dan hoped he’d be able to stay well out of his way.

“Just through here,” Chloe said, holding a door open for Dan. They entered what would usually be the café, when the venue was open to the public. With the large windows and lush greenery, it gave him the feeling of being in a greenhouse.

Dan spotted Sir Richard in the make-up chair, blathering away to the make-up artist, and Rebecca was sitting in the far corner, an open script on her lap and a slight frown on her face as she recited lines under her breath.

The show's presenter and judges were nowhere to be seen. Dan presumed they must have had an earlier call and were already busy filming.

His attention was caught by a table full of pastries, fruit juice and hot drinks, so he went over and helped himself to a coffee and an almond croissant.

Just as he took a bite, another production assistant came over to run through the script for his introduction and make sure he was happy with it. Dan only suggested a slight tweak to the wording before giving his approval.

He finished his breakfast, had a bit of base and powder applied (there was no way he was letting anyone else touch his artfully arranged curls) and then there was something of a lull in activity.

He was sitting there fiddling with his phone and contemplating answering a couple of emails when a voice interrupted him.

"Shouldn’t be too much longer now," Chloe said, looking apologetic. “I wondered if you wanted to come and have a look at the artists' self-portraits while you wait? They’ve just finished filming in there, so you could go and have a quick look.”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Dan said eagerly, scrambling up from his chair. He was full of curiosity about the artists who’d be painting his portrait, and since he couldn't meet them in person yet, seeing the self-portraits they submitted when applying for the show was the next best thing.

In the episodes he'd seen, Dan had been fascinated by the artists’ choices in how they represented themselves – he'd wondered if painting your own portrait was a bit like trying to take the perfect selfie - framing the shot, choosing the right angles and the right background - but with a lot more work involved than just pushing a button.

“Mind if I join you?” a voice boomed. Dan turned to see Sir Richard standing behind him with a typically smug look on his face.

“No problem,” Dan said, reluctantly. He looked over at where Rebecca was sitting, but she was still absorbed in her script and he wasn’t brave enough to interrupt her.

He turned to follow Chloe, leaving Sir Richard trailing in his wake.

As they entered the gallery, Dan’s eyes went straight to the array of canvases of various sizes hung on a plain white wall at the far end of the space.

They were up on display so that the judges could be filmed discussing them and explaining why these particular portraits had caught their eye, and what they were hoping to see from the artists that day.

Dan paused for a moment to take in the impact, fascinated by the huge variety of styles and techniques. Some were bright and vibrant, the paint applied to the canvas with energy and verve. Some were more muted, the faces rendered with softer strokes. One looked like a close up of an old newspaper cutting, the image built up in black spots on a white background.

But of all the pictures on display, there was one in particular that demanded his attention and made him move in for a closer look.

The portrait was of a man whose blue eyes stared boldly out of the canvas, a defiant tilt to his chin, daring the world to react to the strong, obviously male pair of arms that were embracing his bare torso from behind.

Dan felt a buzz of warmth go through him, a little thrill at the bold statement the painting was making. Dan's coming out journey had been pretty torturous and he still carried the scars to some degree, so whenever he came across someone who owned their truth so fearlessly, he felt a little in awe.

He gazed at the delicate details of the man's face, the multitude of colours that he could pick out in his eyes, now that he was this close.

His attention was just shifting to some of the other pictures when he heard a harrumphing sound from behind him.

He turned to see that Sir Richard was looking at the same picture Dan had been focused on, with a rather less impressed look on his face.

"Well, I'm not sure that's really necessary," he said, looking at the painting with slight disdain. Dan turned to him and kept his face deliberately blank, just raising an eyebrow slightly in response.

The man blustered on. "It’s not that I'm homophobic of course, I just don't see why it needs to be made a spectacle of. I mean, whatever two people choose to do in the privacy of their own home – "

"Is their own business?" Dan interrupted, in a mild voice.

"Well, yes," the man agreed.

"You just don't want it flaunted in front of you?"

Sir Richard frowned. "Well, I mean, there's no need for it, is there?" he said, eyeing Dan suspiciously, not quite sure if Dan was mocking him.

Dan heard the words coming out of his mouth before he’d even really made a decision to say them.

"Well, I guess I won't be inviting you round to mine for tea any time soon,” he said, a deliberately innocent look on his face. “Seeing as you wouldn't want to know what us queers get up to behind those closed doors.”

He gave the man a cheeky wink and then turned back to the paintings, seeing Sir Richard’s jaw drop in shock out of the corner of his eye.

Just then, Chloe popped her head in the door. "We're ready for you in the main room now. Dan, I'll take you through first."

"Great," Dan said, happy to leave the older man behind. “Lead the way.”

~~

Standing in the doorway of the high-ceilinged, airy room, Dan could see why there might have been some delay in getting started with filming, as he looked at the dozen or so people bustling around still making last minute adjustments.

There was a large metal construction in the middle of the room that divided the space into three equal sections, with walls coming out from a central point. Each section was designed like a separate room, and had a chair for the sitter in front of a painted backdrop.

Dan had tried not to show his disappointment when he'd seen the bright colours that would be the background to his portrait. He would get to choose one of the paintings to take home with him after filming, so he would have preferred something a little more subtle than the paisley swirls someone had decided on for him. He supposed it shouldn't really matter, it's not like he would actually put the picture up on his wall. He didn’t even have any photos of himself up in his flat.

Still, the busy background made him glad he'd stuck with his usual black when choosing his outfit – a velvet blazer, button up shirt and ripped jeans.

The three artists who would be painting his portrait were nearly done with setting up their easels and equipment, and he was pleased to see that the blue-eyed man whose portrait he'd been admiring earlier was among them. It always made him feel more at ease to know there were other queer people around, there was something comforting about the feeling of strength in numbers.

He watched as the man adjusted the height of his easel. He was tall, Dan noted, and he wondered if his slightly hunched posture was from awkwardness or from spending too many hours leaning over a canvas.

Dan had thought he might be a little intimidated on meeting him, he seemed such an imposing figure in his self-portrait but standing in front of Dan, the man came across as friendly and even a little nervous as one of the crew checked he was mic'd up correctly.

His other two artists were also getting themselves ready, setting out their equipment and paints. One was a younger woman who looked like a typical art student, with a paint-spattered boiler suit and a bright scarf holding back her dark curls. The other Dan would guess was in her early sixties, with long plaited silver hair and wearing a comfortable-looking loose denim dress.

“Okay Dan, Stephen’s going to do your introduction, and then on my signal, you’ll walk on to the set and take a seat.”

Dan wasn't quite sure how an actor and comedian without a background in art had ended up presenting a show like this. It seemed like a strange choice on paper, but Dan supposed he made a good contrast to the professional views of the judges, asking the kinds of questions the average viewer would want to know.

Dan watched him check through his script one last time, and then turn to the camera with a smile.

“Our first guest came into the public eye with his YouTube channel, attracting millions of subscribers. He’s now the author of two best-selling books, presents a weekly podcast on LGBTQIA+ representation in the media, and most recently became a presenter on BBC2’s The Culture Show. Please welcome Daniel Howell!”

There was a smattering of polite applause as Dan plastered on a smile and made his way towards the dais, taking a seat as instructed.

“Dan, welcome. How are you feeling about taking part in the show?”

“I’m thrilled to be here.” Dan replied smoothly, hoping his attempts at covering his nerves didn't come across as too insincere.

“How do you think you’ll get on with having to sit still for so long?" Stephen continued. "Four hours is a bit of a stretch.”

“Well, sitting on my sofa for hours on end is basically my day job," Dan said wryly. "It’s just that usually I have a laptop in front of me. So hopefully I won’t have too much trouble.”

“And what are you hoping the artists will capture of you in their portraits?”

Dan scrambled for something appropriate to say. “I’m hoping for something surprising, maybe a little abstract," he replied.

“So in effect, you’d like a portrait that doesn’t actually look anything like you?”

Dan gave a genuine snort of laughter. “Yeah, that’d be perfect. Incognito portraiture, it could be the next big thing.”

The presenter tilted his head to the side as if to ponder the idea. “You never know, maybe it’ll catch on." Then he turned to the artists. "Tara, Maddie, Phil, I’ll leave Dan in your capable hands.”

He wished them luck, and then the opening segment was done and he was off to film the next one.

Dan turned to the artists and tried not to deliberately catch Phil’s eye as he said brightly “So, how do you want me?”

The artists earnestly discussed the best position for Dan to sit so that they could all get a good angle to work from. They were being terribly polite and British about it, no one wanting to appear too demanding, but they eventually came up with something that worked for all of them.

Phil was positioned just to Dan’s left, and Dan could admit to himself he was pleased Phil would be seeing what he secretly considered was his better side.

The artists killed time fiddling with their equipment as they waited for the other sitters' introductions to be filmed so they could get started.

Finally, they heard the presenter say. "Artists, you have four hours. You can begin."

Maddie began by sketching straight onto her canvas, holding up her pencil and squinting every now and then to work out the proportions of Dan's face.

Phil and Tara on the other hand took a more technological approach, and both picked up iPads to take reference photos of Dan to work from. He supposed you could capture the finer details more easily that way, and didn't have to rely on your sitter staying quite so still.

He sat there and tried not to feel self-conscious as they both walked around him, studying him intently and taking pictures from various angles. It was hard to know what exactly he was supposed to do with his face, and he was kicking himself for not practicing beforehand.

"Sorry, would you mind just tilting your head up a little?" Phil was crouched in front of him, long legs bent, frowning a little as he stated at the image on the screen he was holding up in front of him. "And slightly to the side?"

Dan did his best to comply. "Like this?" he queried.

"Yeah, that's great." Phil took a few shots, then flicked back through to check them over. "Oh that's nice," he murmured to himself.

Dan didn't let himself feel too flattered, knowing that Phil would be referring to the photo, not its subject.

"Thanks for your patience," Phil said, looking up. "Sorry, I know being scrutinised like this can be a little intense."

"No problem," Dan replied with a smile.

"Oh! Hold that a minute," Phil exclaimed, bringing his iPad back up and grabbing another few shots.

Dan tried not to let his smile freeze into a grimace.

"Okay, that's definitely it," Phil said and stood up. He flexed his knees a little to get the blood flowing in his legs. "Right, better get started then."

"Yeah, I'm not sure they'll let you submit a photo instead of a painting, no matter how good it might be."

Phil smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This close up, Dan could see that Phil hadn't been flattering himself when he'd painted them such a stunning combination of blue and green and yellow in his self portrait.

Phil went back over to his easel, rolled up the sleeves of his navy jumper and started preparing his palette.

A peaceful silence descended as the artists absorbed themselves in their work.

Dan sat there, already starting to feel a little restless. He'd told himself this would be the perfect opportunity to practice the breathing and meditation techniques his therapist was always badgering him about, but he struggled to calm his mind with so much going on around him.

He wondered how the other sitters were getting on. He could hear the murmur of voices now and then and the odd laugh, but the sound was mostly absorbed by the high walls.

He turned his attention to what the artists were up to. He hadn’t realised how tantalising it would be to have them working diligently just feet away from him and yet have no idea what was emerging on their canvases.

There were a few clues he could pick up on. Tara wasn't painting yet; she was sitting up close to the canvas, head bent like she was working on something particularly detailed and he thought he'd seen her holding what looked like a felt pen.

Maddie's palette on the other hand was a riot of colour, and she was using a set of metal tools that looked a bit like blades to apply the paint to the canvas. He was intrigued to see what kind of effect that technique would produce.

Phil seemed to be taking the most traditional approach, his palette containing the kind of pink, peach and brown tones that you might expect for a portrait, and he was the only one actually using a brush.

Every now and then, one of the presenters or judges would wander past to look at the paintings, sometimes shadowed by a camera crew who would film them chatting to the artists.

Dan was only really half listening to the conversations, that is until one of the judges started talking to Phil. Dan tried to remember her name - maybe Sarah or Susan, he couldn't recall.

"I hear you're quite used to painting in front of a camera," she said to Phil. "What made you first start putting videos of your art online?"

Dan's ears pricked up at that.

"After I finished my degree, I decided not to pursue a full-time career in painting, but I missed the feeling of being part of a community of artists," Phil explained. "So I started posting videos on YouTube just as a way to try and connect with others, and it grew from there. Plus, having a regular upload schedule has been great for making sure I find time in my day for painting."

Susan/Sarah nodded in understanding. "And are you going to be asking Dan for a few tips? I hear he's got just a little YouTube experience himself," she said, looking over and giving Dan a smile.

Dan shook his head at the suggestion. "I'm definitely not the right person to ask. Anyone who's actually uploaded a video in the past year is more of a YouTuber than I am at this point."

"Ah, well maybe not then." She turned her attention to Phil's canvas. "I can see you've decided to ignore the backdrop and go for a more muted colour palette. What prompted you to do that?" she asked.

"I didn't want the background to end up overshadowing the portrait itself," Phil explained. "Besides, bright colours don't really seem like Dan's style," Phil said, gesturing at Dan's outfit.

"Oh I don't know, everyone likes a splash of colour now and then, don't they?" Susan/Sarah parried.

Dan tried not to react to her comment with a grimace, but he clearly didn't succeed entirely, judging by the knowing smile that Phil gave him as the judge moved on and started speaking to Tara.

"Don't worry, I won't be taking her advice," Phil said reassuringly, turning back to his canvas.

~~

"Okay, brushes down everyone. That's two hours gone, we'll break now for lunch," a senior member of the production team announced.

Dan stood up and stretched, then turned his head from side to side to loosen the muscles in his neck.

He tried to get a sneaky look at the half-finished portraits on his way out of the room, but the artists had been instructed to angle their easels away so he couldn't get even a peek.

He headed back to the green room where the breakfast food had been replaced with trays of sandwiches and luscious looking salads, all the veggie and vegan options carefully labelled.

He filled up a generous plate and, not even attempting to be sociable, headed out of the large glass doors and sat down on a bench in the courtyard outside.

It was a surprisingly warm day for October, and he barely felt a chill even though he hadn't thought to put on his coat. He tucked into his food, one hand kept free to scroll on his phone, which meant balancing his plate awkwardly on his knees.

He was distracted a little while later by the crunching sound of gravel, and looked up to see that Phil had also made his way outside. Dan watched quietly as Phil, not noticing anyone else was there, closed his eyes and tilted his face upwards to catch the warm rays of the sun on his skin.

Dan half wished he could capture the moment on camera; there was something sort of cinematic about it. Maybe that's what happened when you spent too much time around artists, he mused.

Phil seemed to sense he was being observed. He opened his eyes and turned towards where Dan was sitting, then smiled in recognition.

"Hey," he said, with an awkward wave. "Mind if I join you?"

"As long as we're not going to get in trouble - you know, favouritism and all that. You could be buttering me up to persuade me to like your painting the best."

Phil laughed and pulled a face as he sat down on the other end of the bench. "That's not really my style. I'm much more likely to blurt out something ridiculous and scupper my chances," he confessed. "I'm not really very good with...this" he said, waving his hand between the two of them.

"At peopling?" Dan asked. "That makes two of us."

"It's so much easier to talk to a camera, you can just go back and edit out all the weird bits," Phil said. "People don't get to realise how incredibly awkward I am."

"Well, I'm honoured you're letting me in on your secret," Dan said, with a little more sincerity than Phil probably realised.

He always found it reassuring when other people were honest about their insecurities, it made him feel just a little less alone with his own.

"So how are you getting on with the portrait?" he enquired. "Am I allowed to ask?"

"I think that's permitted," Phil said, grinning. "It's going pretty well, I reckon. I've got a good amount of colour on the canvas, I just need to refine it now."

Dan wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he nodded encouragingly anyway.

"The tricky thing is that a portrait isn't just about capturing the likeness of a person's face. It's also about trying to tell a story."

Dan thought back to Phil's self-portrait and realised that's exactly what he'd seen in it, a story. He wasn't sure if it was the same story that other people might see, but then he supposed everyone who looked at a piece of art would view it through their own unique perspective.

"Well, that's how I see it anyway," Phil continued. "I did a Masters in video editing after I finished my degree, but I don't think I'll ever get the chance to work in film, so it's like painting still lets me tell stories, just on a smaller scale."

Dan felt a twinge of recognition at the slightly wistful look on Phil's face.

"It's great that you're using your creativity, even if you've still got ambitions you haven't realised yet. These days I spend so much of my time discussing other people's work that it doesn't leave a lot of space for creating anything of my own." Dan paused, then found himself admitting "Sometimes it can feel kind of empty, like I'm not really adding anything of value to the world."

He wasn't quite sure why he was spilling out his thoughts like this. He just had this sense somehow that Phil would get what he was saying. 

"You shouldn't feel like what you do isn't worthwhile," Phil protested. "There's nothing an artist appreciates more than an informed observer commenting on their work."

Dan frowned, turning Phil's words over in his mind. He'd never thought of it from that perspective before. He opened his mouth to reply but before he could, Phil glanced down at his phone and then back up at Dan.

"Looks like it's time to head back in. Wouldn't want to be late," he said, standing up.

"It's not like they can really start without me," Dan said drily, but he stood up anyway and they made their way back inside.

Chapter Text

Dan returned to his position in front of the artists, and after a little while he realised he was actually having a good time, in comparison with how awkward he'd felt that morning.

Rather than feeling self-conscious and wishing the time away, he found himself chatting animatedly to Phil, and to the other artists too. He managed to resist the temptation to quiz them on their portraits and instead asked what their inspirations were, and what drew them to art in the first place.

He was fascinated to learn that Phil had started drawing because his dad was a keen amateur artist, and had patiently nurtured his son's talents. He couldn't imagine what it was like to have so much of a parent's attention.

As the afternoon went on, the studio lights were starting to make the room a little too warm. Dan was envious when Phil took off his jumper to cool down a little, whereas Dan had no choice but to remain in his blazer and deal with the discomfort. The Adventure Time T-shirt Phil was wearing underneath was geeky, but also kind of endearing and Phil smiled when Dan complimented him on it.

The conversation all but died out when the presenter announced, "Artists, you have just thirty minutes left."

Dan sat back in his chair to wait out the final stretch. He found his gaze drifting over to Phil more often than not. Dan could study him almost unobserved as Phil's attention was so focused on his canvas and the photos he'd taken, with only the odd glance Dan's way.

He wondered enviously what it would be like to have the kind of skill these artists had developed, to be able to bring someone's image to life on the page.

Maybe he'd paint the scene in front of him now - Phil absorbed in his work, looking intense, almost hawk-like. There were so many little details he'd want to capture. The elusive colour of Phil's eyes, the contrast of that dark hair against his pale skin, the curved line of the Cupid’s bow on his top lip that, once he'd noticed it, Dan couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from.

When he caught himself dreamily wondering if Phil's lips might feel just as soft as they looked, he realised with a jolt that perhaps his feelings for Phil had gone past just an admiration for his artistic talent.

He needed to get a grip on himself, he didn't want to be caught ogling Phil on national TV no matter how pretty he was. He concentrated on willing the telltale flush not to rise in his cheeks, the stupid red patch that always emerged when he felt awkward or embarrassed.

He should think about something else, anything else, but he'd never been that good at self-discipline so it was a relief when he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

“Artists, your time is up.”

Dan looked over to see Phil smile to himself and nod a little as he put down his brush, as if to say that he’d done his best and that was all he could ask.

Tara was studying her painting with a slight frown, seemingly still uncertain about some of the choices she’d made.

Maddie appeared the most pleased with what she'd done, pushing a few loose hairs out of her face as she stepped back from her painting and rested her hands on her hips.

There was a bit of a pause as the cameras were reset to film the reveal of the portraits.

Dan stole a couple of glances over at Phil while they waited, but the easy rapport of earlier seemed to have deserted him and he found himself tongue tied, unable to think of anything to say to pass the time.

Instead the artists chatted nervously among themselves until everything was finally in place.

The presenter came over and stood next to Dan, waiting for his cue before beginning to speak.

“So Dan, how was that for you?” he asked.

“It went surprisingly quickly,” Dan admitted.

“I expect the time went even quicker for our artists," Stephen observed. "I know you’re eager to see the portraits, so let's not keep you in suspense any longer. Artists….please turn your easels.”

Dan’s stomach swooped as the artists did what they were told and revealed the three versions of himself that they’d been working so hard on.

He turned to Maddie's first, and saw his face rendered in bold, bright blocks of colour, the tones of his face as colourful as the background behind him. "That's stunning," he said, a little awestruck. He could see the texture of the paint and the way it had been pressed onto the canvas, giving a sense of depth. The effect was striking, if a little disorientating to see familiar features depicted in such an unfamiliar way.

Next he moved on to Tara's painting. She'd drawn his likeness in meticulous monochrome in the centre of the canvas, a stark contrast to the colours of the backdrop swirling behind him in a kind of watercolour mist. "So that's what the pen was for," he murmured almost under his breath as he looked at all the tiny details she'd captured in the drawing. "That's incredible, so original," he said, seeing some of the tension in her shoulders relax at his reaction.

He deliberately left Phil's painting till last, knowing that he'd probably be reacting to the painter as much as to the painting. He felt a flip in his stomach as he turned to look at it.

He found himself moving forwards without even realising he was doing it, drawn in by what he saw.

It was so different from the other two portraits. Phil had done as he'd said and ignored the bright background in favour of gentle, muted colours that gave an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality to the painting. The image was somewhat blurred, as if reflected in a mirror or a window.

Dan in the painting looked absorbed in his own world, deep in thought. He looked still and calm, but there was a faint melancholy in his eyes, a quiet sense of yearning for something just out of his reach.

Studying the painting, Dan felt strangely exposed. It was like Phil had looked into his soul and seen a softness and a vulnerability there that Dan rarely showed to the world.

He wanted to touch the canvas, explore it, figure out how on earth these simple marks could convey such emotion.

He realised that he was yet to make any comment, but was struggling to know what to say.

“That’s just…wow,” he came up with eventually, shaking his head a little. He was sure that the emotional effect of the portrait was written all over his face, and he only let himself throw a quick smile and a nod of thanks Phil's way.

He heard the presenter's voice behind him. “For someone who makes a living out of talking, you seem a little lost for words there, Dan?”

Dan pulled himself out of his reverie, and took a step back. “They’re all amazing, I’m absolutely blown away. Thank you all so much," he said, slipping back into his professional persona.

“As you know, you can only choose one of these paintings to take home with you today, so the question is, which one will it be?”

The monochrome was the sensible choice, chic and understated enough that he might almost be able to get away with putting it on display, but it was his heart that spoke.

“It has to be Phil’s,” he said, feeling a thrill at the pleased grin that broke out over Phil’s face at his words.

"Okay, well that's yours to keep. Well done to all of our artists, we'll get a chance later on to see if the judges agree with Dan's decision.'

As soon as filming was done, members of the crew appeared and started moving the portraits to an adjacent room where the judges would be making their deliberations.

"Okay, that's you done for the day, Dan," Chloe said, appearing at his elbow "Thanks so much for being here. Once we've wrapped, we'll get your portrait packaged up for delivery and it'll be with you by the end of the week."

"Brilliant, thanks," Dan replied.

She smiled, and disappeared off presumably to find the other sitters. It was a shame he hadn't hadn't crossed paths with Rebecca, he would have liked the chance to say hello, but if that was the price he paid for staying out of Sir Richard's way, then it was probably worth it.

Dan didn't have any good reason to hang around any longer, and yet he didn't feel ready for the day to be over.

He spoke with Tara and Maddie as they tidied away their equipment, mostly to try and shake off the awkwardness he was feeling about not having chosen their paintings. They were very gracious about it, and Dan felt reassured that they definitely probably didn't hate him.

The pair headed off and Dan found himself lingering, watching Phil who was just packing the last of his things away.

He wondered how people had coped back in the days before technology allowed rejection to happen behind the privacy of a phone screen, rather than face to face. Putting yourself out there in real time? Hideous. And yet he found himself willing to try.

He gathered his courage, wiping his clammy hands surreptitiously on his trousers, and made his approach.

"Hey," he said. "Thank you so much for the portrait. It's really...I really liked it." Dan could already feel that treacherous colour rising in his cheeks.

Phil glanced up, looking pleased. "It's really cool that you chose it, the other two pictures were incredible."

He picked up his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder as they started walking towards the door.

"Now comes the nerve-wracking part, waiting to hear the judges' verdict." Phil said. "It feels a bit like waiting for your exam results at school."

"Oh they'll love it," Dan said, trying to be reassuring but realising he actually had no idea what the judges would be looking for.

"I'm not sure," Phil said honestly. "My technique is pretty traditional and they tend to favour more innovative styles, but you never know."

"Your self-portrait wasn't exactly traditional, though," Dan pointed out.

"Oh, I hadn't realised you'd seen that," Phil replied. "Yeah, that was a bit of a departure for me. Thought it was worth taking a risk and seeing if it would get me noticed."

“Well it definitely caught my attention,” Dan said, thinking of the powerful impact it had on him, seeing two men embracing like that without a hint of shame or apology. Hold on a moment…two men? The implications of that suddenly hit Dan, and he felt like an idiot for not considering it before. Who exactly did those arms belong to? And were they someone important in Phil’s life?

“By the way, who was the mystery man in the portrait with you?” Dan asked, trying to keep his tone light. “Did you rope someone in to help you out?”

“Oh no,” Phil says. “It didn’t seem worth getting someone to model if all you could see were their arms. I just used a reference photo I found online.”

Dan nodded, trying not to let the relief light up his face. “I bet you got a few interesting results in that Google search,” was all he said in response.

They'd reached the corridor by now, and Dan knew he wouldn't have too much longer in Phil's company. It didn’t feel like nearly enough, he'd barely had the time to get to know Phil at all, and he was realising he desperately wanted that opportunity.

"Hey, I was thinking it might be good to visit a few galleries around London, educate myself a bit more about art." He bit his lip nervously. "Don't suppose you've got any recommendations of where to start? I mean, I've been to all the obvious places like the Tates, the National Gallery. I thought you could suggest some places a little more off the tourist track?"

Phil glanced over Dan's shoulder as he considered the question, and Dan realised Phil was probably wondering where he was supposed to be right now.

"Um, there's the Frieze Art Fair coming up soon," Phil offered, a little distracted. "But other than that, I can't think of anywhere off the top of my head that you probably haven't heard of already."

"Oh," Dan said. The conversation wasn't quite going to plan. He'd thought that Phil would mention a few places, and Dan could casually mention how much he'd like to visit them, and how it would be good to have someone with a bit more knowledge who could show him around, and somehow that would lead to him ending up on a date with Phil without ever having to actually him.

"Well, maybe I could…give you my number?" Dan found himself saying. "In case you happen to think of anywhere?"

Just then, a production assistant ducked her head out of a nearby doorway. "Through here, Phil," she called when she spotted him lingering in the corridor.

"Yeah, sure. I'll have a think about it and let you know if anywhere comes to mind," Phil said, hurriedly grabbing a notebook and pen out of his bag and handing it to Dan.

Dan scrawled his number in the back of the book. As he gave it back to Phil, he studied his face, looking for any sign that Phil had realised Dan was interested in more than just art recommendations. He realised with a sinking feeling that there was no hint of recognition there.

"Okay," Dan said, trying not to let his disappointment show. "Well, good luck then."

"Thanks!" Phil said over his shoulder, as he loped down the hallway and disappeared through the door.

Dan let out a despondent sigh, and turned towards the exit with a rueful smile. He'd tried his best. Maybe it would have been wiser to leave this one as a pleasant might-have-been, but at least he could tell himself he'd given it a shot.

~~

Dan sat down with a large glass of red wine to watch the episode when it aired. He was still a little self-conscious about watching himself on TV – the former YouTuber and control freak in him couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable when at the mercy of other people’s editing.

His portrait had turned up a few days after filming as promised, along with a note from Chloe to say that it was one of her favourites and it was a shame Phil hadn't been chosen to progress any further in the competition.

Apparently Phil's suspicions that he wouldn't win the favour of the judges hadn't been unfounded, and Dan had felt a little disappointed on his behalf, but he hadn't let himself dwell on it too much. Instead he'd stored the still-wrapped painting underneath his bed and tried to put the whole thing behind him, until now.

As the show began and the familiar gallery appeared on the screen, Dan saw that the judges were as drawn to Phil’s self-portrait as he had been, commenting on the bold statement it made and how it had stood out among hundreds of submissions and demanded their attention.

He managed to only cringe a little when he watched himself being introduced, and then the focus shifted to the artists.

It was fascinating to watch how the paintings emerged bit by bit from blank canvases, having only previously seen them after they were complete.

He hadn't had the chance to see the portraits of the other sitters until now, and as they started to come to life, he marvelled at just how bloody talented people could be.

He tried not to, but he found himself paying the most attention when the camera was focused on Phil. The first time he appeared on screen, Dan felt a twinge of regret at what might have been, but time had softened the edges of his disappointment.

He did feel his face flush a little later in the episode when the screen cut to the judges discussing Phil’s painting. They'd commented on the rapport Phil had built with his sitter, and how it came through in the intimacy of the portrait. It was kind of embarrassing, given what happened afterwards, but also reassuring to hear that maybe the connection he'd felt to Phil hadn't all been in his head.

Dan sat through to the end of the show, seeing both Maddie and Phil get selected for the final three, along with one of the artists who’d painted Rebecca. Dan couldn’t help feeling pleased that none of Sir Richard’s portraits had been chosen, even though he knew he was being petty.

He saw the disappointment flash briefly across Phil's face when the judges selected Maddie’s bright and bold portrait as the winner, but Phil quickly covered it with a smile. 

The judges congratulated Maddie who had a beaming grin on her face, and looked thrilled to have been chosen. Phil played the part of the gracious loser well, saying how much he'd appreciated the opportunity to take part.

Then it cut to a preview of what was coming up on the following week's show, before the credits started to roll.

Dan sighed, and grabbed the remote. He couldn't decide whether to switch over to Netflix or turn the TV off and run himself a bath. Either way, he thought he deserved another glass of wine for making it through the episode without too much pining over Phil.

He was just about to get up and go to the fridge when his phone, carelessly thrown on the sofa beside him, started to buzz.

That'll be mum, he thought. She'd told him she'd be watching the programme, and she was probably calling for all the behind-the-scenes gossip. He swiped quickly without really glancing at the screen.

"So what did you think?" he said in place of a greeting.

"Er, Dan?" he heard a voice say at the other end which definitely didn't belong to his mum.

"Yes?" he said, forehead crinkling in confusion. He took the phone from his ear briefly to check the screen but the number wasn't in his contacts.

"Oh hi, this is Phil. From the art thing?"

Shit. Dan could feel a mild sense of panic setting in. Why was Phil calling him now, all these months later? In fact, why was he calling him at all, rather than just texting like a normal person?

“Hi, Phil,” he said, trying a little too hard to sound casual. ”Good to hear from you. Did you just watch the episode?”

"Yeah. I was curious to see how everything would come together in the final edit," Phil said. "Plus, I wanted to know what the judges really thought about my paintings," he confessed.

Dan was surprised at how fondly familiar the faintly Northern tones of Phil's voice felt as he spoke.

"The whole day went by in a bit of a blur, to be honest, so it was good to watch it back and be reminded of everything that happened. I mean, the parts that were filmed, and the parts that weren't."

Dan didn't really want to think about those parts; sitting side by side with Phil out in the sunshine, and the disappointment of their awkward, rushed conversation in the hallway later on.

Phil's voice sounded hesitant as he continued. "On reflection, I realised that maybe...I mean, would it be possible that…" Phil paused for a moment, then his words came out in a rush. "I was wondering if you were maybe trying to ask me out when you gave me your number, and I was acting like an oblivious idiot?"

Dan wasn't sure how to respond. Admit it, or just laugh it off? He couldn't get a clear enough read on Phil to tell.

"Maybe I've got it all wrong," Phil went on. "And maybe I'm making a fool of myself right now, but I realised I'd always regret it if I didn't at least ask."

Okay, that sounded more promising. Dan dared to let himself feel a little hopeful.

"Yes Phil," he confirmed. "I was, in my own inept way, trying to let you know that I was interested in maybe seeing you again."

There was a pause at the other end of the line, then Phil finally responded.

"Huh."

Dan waited to see if Phil would continue. When nothing more was forthcoming, he couldn't help but ask.

“Is that it?” He was starting to suspect he might have misread the situation.

“Hey, I told you I’m not good at this kind of thing,” Phil protested.

“That’s true,” Dan had to concede.

“So, have you hung the painting yet?” Phil asked, veering off the subject.

“Not yet,” Dan said, feeling a little on the back foot. “I’m still trying to work out the best place for it.”

“Oh. Right.” There was another pause, even longer this time.

“Are you still there?” Dan asked eventually, not sure whether he felt exasperated or concerned.

“Yeah, sorry," Phil said, sounding distracted. “It’s just that I’m not great at multitasking.”

Dan frowned. “What else are you doing?” he asked.

“Hold on a sec, I’ll send you a photo," Phil replied.

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “Woah there, I’m not sure if – ”

A message notification popped up, and he hesitated for a moment before gingerly tapping the screen.

As he began to realise what he was looking at, a smile crept slowly across his face. It was only a quick pencil sketch, but he could clearly make out the scene in front of him. Two men were sitting at a pavement cafe, one with a quiff, the other with curls and a tiny hoop in his ear. They were leaning towards each other, deep in conversation.

The story this picture was telling couldn't be plainer.

 “So…lunch then?" Dan ventured. "Are you free this Friday?"

“Yeah," Phil replied, and Dan was thrilled to hear the warmth in his voice. “It’s a date."