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Dan thinks that the nights are far too long. Hours become days when the only thing around to entertain him is seemingly eternal darkness. And no matter how hard he tries, he can’t pick out anything but black when he looks long and hard at the silhouettes in the distance. He’s tried counting sheep before, but it never works for him. He’s restless when he tries to sleep but tired all day long and he knows that he needs to do something about it, but he doesn’t know what to do when the nights are an eternity long and his life is so short.
His mind is flooded with thoughts as soon as his head hits the pillow and he squirms around in bed trying to find a comfortable position as he wonders how he got this way. There was a time when sleep came easy to him and he could stay up for hours on end, mindlessly browsing the internet without feeling tired, but as soon as he did find it in him to close his laptop, he would fall into a deep sleep almost instantly. But then the stress of always having something to do—specifically write—got too much and sleep was no longer something Dan took for granted.
“What am I even doing with my life?” Dan asks himself as he stares at his ceiling, his hands behind his head.
He hasn’t written anything good in almost six months and he’s slowly running out of money. He doesn’t do much, which helps a little bit, but he knows he can’t sit around forever. But he’s always so stressed and tired, and even though he wants to fall asleep, he can’t fall asleep. When he finally does, it barely lasts. During the daytime, he is far too exhausted to even think about constructing well-rounded sentences and putting his thoughts into words.
His fingers twitch at his sides as thinking about writing makes him want to write anymore. He knows he’s not going to fall asleep anyway, so why not? He needs to make a living just like everybody else.
He climbs out of bed almost mechanically. He knows he’s controlling his limbs, but it doesn’t feel like it and everything feels a bit forced and abrupt. Still, he walks to his laptop that is sitting carefully on top of his desk. He stumbles blindly, too lazy to turn on the light, but eventually, he reaches his laptop, despite the fact that he feels like he is going to collapse at any moment.
When he opens it up, the screen illuminates the room around him and he can finally see some of the colors in all of the darkness. He hurriedly logs in and opens up a document. Only moments ago, he had been so motivated to write but all ideas left him as he stared at the screen, his hands on the keyboard. The longer he stares, the more the colors and shapes blur together to form one big mess of nonsense.
But the sad fact is he knows he is the actual mess. He’s the one who can’t focus long enough to get a single word out, but he’s also the one who can’t stop focusing on things. He’s just focusing on all the wrong things and even though he knows the present is more important than the past, the past is all he thinks about and he can’t piece himself together long enough to find solace.
“Why? Why? Why?” he says repeatedly as he tries to concentrate on the glowing screen in front of him.
He pounds his hands on the keyboard in front of him almost without registering it, but the clicking noise as they’re pressed down is enough to get him to realize what he’s doing. The sound shakes him out of his empty thoughts and checking the time—it is two o’clock in the morning—he decides to get out of his house.
There’s a coffee shop only a few blocks away from his apartment and he knows for a fact that it’s open all night long because he used to go there all the time late at night when he was trying to finish a chapter. But this time, he’s not even going to bring his laptop because he knows the words won’t bother to come to him until he sorts himself out. (At the same time, not writing is making it all worse for him because it adds another thing to his long list of things to stress out about.)
He grabs his wallet and exits his room.
He puts his hands on the walls as he walks because his living room is more of a mess than his bedroom and he doesn’t want to trip and fall because he knows if he does, he won’t have the motivation or the energy to get up for a long time and the night will be way longer if he’s lying on his floor.
Luckily enough, he makes it to the door and slips on his shoes without any problems. Carefully, he runs his hand against the wall until it bumps against the hook where he hangs his keys. He grabs them quickly and opens his door. The door is loud as he closes it, but despite the brief headache it gives him, he brushes it off.
Not wanting to disturb any of his neighbors, he makes sure his footsteps are light as he makes his way down the hallway and down the stairs. He knows that he can take the elevator, but if he’s awake, he doesn’t want to give his body time to feel sleepy again as his body already feels sleepy enough.
The night is chilly and a forceful wind blows past Dan as he walks to his car. He should have remembered to crab his coat as it was nearing the start of autumn, but he knows it’s too late for him to do anything about it so he shouldn’t waste his energy scolding himself over it. He moves as quickly as he can to his car, wasting no time, and as soon as he reaches it, he enters it almost immediately.
The car is cold on the inside too and he knows that, as soon as he starts the ignition, he can let it sit for a few before turning on the heater, but he feels so lonely sitting in his car at night with no one around to talk to, so he starts the car and leaves.
He hasn’t talked to his family in a few weeks and the last time he did, the conversation was quick. He doesn’t have any friends anymore because he pushed them all away. He knows it’s his entire fault, but he wishes he could blame it on someone else when he’s in these situations where he can’t sleep and he just wants to talk.
The drive to the place is short and as scary as it is for him to admit, he doesn’t really realize he’s been driving until he’s parked in front of the coffee shop, the sign lighting up the black sky.
He turns his car off and opens his door and gets out.
The inside of the place looks like a haven with all of its bright lights and happy colors, and when Dan opens the door, the scent of black coffee hits him instantly, filling his senses and his mind with a pleasant distraction. He walks up to the front counter, looking up at the menu.
“What can I get you?” a voice asks.
Dan looks down from the menu and stares at the man in front of him. He has eyes that can’t be described, but they’re mainly blue. He has dark circles under his eyes and he looks tired, just like Dan knows he must look like. His dark ebony hair is tousled in places, as if he’s been messing with it, and his hands shake by his sides. His skin is sunken in and he looks too skinny, to the point where he is almost fragile. But he’s tall with wide shoulders that are hunched over and an exhausted frown painted on his face. He looks older than Dan, but he can’t tell if that’s because of how horribly tired he looks or if he actually does look older. Either way, he can’t help but think that the guy just might be in the same boat as him.
“A large caramel macchiato to go, please,” Dan says politely as he continues to stare at the drained barista, who has the name Phil Lester on his uniform.
Phil tells Dan the price and he pays for it.
“So, what brings you here this late at night or early in the morning?” Phil asks as he starts to make Dan’s drink. He moves sluggishly. “Most people don’t come until at least eight.”
Dan watches Phil as he moves and he doesn’t even think before he says, “Couldn’t sleep.”
Phil doesn’t respond until after he’s finished the drink and handed it over to Dan. “I hope you don’t expect the coffee to make it any better.”
Dan robotically shook his head no, his eyes still stuck on Phil’s form. “I’m just hoping that it will give me some energy to survive the day.” He leans up against the counter with the coffee in hand and slowly brings it up to his lips, taking a sip. He barely even registers the taste.
“What’s your name?” Phil asks, tapping his fingers on the countertop. He hasn’t stopped moving since Dan entered the building. It reminds him of his sister, who, when she doesn’t take her anxiety medicine, is always moving.
“Dan,” he says tiredly, his voice lacking any emotion. He is tired of putting up a front, pretending to be okay when he isn’t. He hasn’t been okay in months; he barely remembers what it’s like to get a goodnight’s sleep and not wake up tired. At this point, he’s lucky if he even wakes up.
“Well, Dan,” Phil says, “I suggest you try to get some sleep.”
Dan wants to tell him that he’s tried to get some sleep, tried so fucking hard. He wants to tell Phil how much of his life he’s thrown away, because no matter how long and hard he tries, he can’t fall asleep for more than a few hours. But he knows Phil won’t understand; he’ll just say that there is medicine available to help the sleepless. Nobody understands how hard it is to accept that you have a problem and to take medication that has side effects nobody wants unless they’ve struggled themselves.
Instead, he says, “Maybe tonight,” as he shrugs his shoulders, trying his best to sound indifferent. “But I probably won’t,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet that Phil can’t hear.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Dan says in response. “It was nothing. I gotta go.” He walked out of the coffee shop with his coffee in hand.
The next night, Dan comes back. He decides that he spends too much of his time just lying around in bed hoping for sleep to catch him when he knows it won’t. At this rate, he’ll probably die of sleep exhaustion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Nobody will miss him. And that’s what brings him to the coffee shop for another night (once again, without his laptop).
“What happened to getting some sleep?” Phil says as Dan leans against the countertop.
“I tried but couldn’t fall asleep,” he responds, his eyes closing and opening as he fights the urge to fall asleep. He knows he won’t actually go to sleep, but it feels like he is about to. “Maybe tonight. Aren’t you going to take my order?”
“Caramel macchiato to go?” Phil says.
“Yes,” Dan says, “please.”
He doesn’t stare at Phil this time—who looks even worse than yesterday. No, he stares at the colors this time, observing the way they assist in making the place look brighter, happier. The more he focuses on them, the more they blur together.
His head begins to feel lighter and dizzier and just more. He’s feeling more and more as he breathes in the smell of coffee. But at the same time, he’s not feeling and he knows it’s all in his head. It’s always all in his head: all the stress, the worry, the paranoia. It is him who creates the things; they aren’t real.
“Here you go,” Phil says and hands over Dan’s drink. There is a pause in the conversation as Phil writes something down, but eventually, Phil breaks it. “I want you to know that, if you need someone to talk to at odd hours, you can talk to me. I work Monday through Friday, so if you want to get in contact with me, here’s my number.” He gives Dan a scrap piece of paper with a seven digit number scribbled on it in sloppy handwriting.
“Thanks.”
Later on, Dan meets up with Louise. Louise isn’t a friend because Dan doesn’t have any of those, but she’s as close as it comes. But she keeps telling him that she’s worried about him, which annoys him. There sitting in his living room on his couch and he feels like it some sort of intervention.
“Dan, be honest with me, when was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” she asks. She’s staring at Dan with worried eyes and he can no longer make eye contact with her because it’s all too much.
“I don’t know.”
He’s being honest and he doesn’t know why he’s being honest. She’s going to worry about him either way, but if he fabricates a lie, she’ll worry less. Still, he tells her the truth and the truth is still shaky because he doesn’t know. He loses track of time too easily with his cloudy, tired mind.
She’s looking at him with those eyes again: those indescribable eyes that portray so much. She’s worried, but she’s also tired of putting up with him. Everyone gets tired of putting up with him (which he thinks is a little ironic because he’s the tired one).
She sets her hand comfortingly on his leg. “Dan, you need to see a doctor about this. I care about you. Your family cares about you. You have friends who care about you. You have fans that read your novels and care about you.” As soon as she finishes talking, she rubs her hand up and down as she tries to get him to make eye contact, but every single time he sees her looking directly into his eyes, he averts his.
“I don’t need medicine,” he says, ignoring what she said about his family and his friends and his fans. He doesn’t believe her when she says that people care because he’s wanted someone to lean on for so long and no one is there for him. “I’m doing fine. I’ve got it all under control.”
“No, you’re not. You barely sleep anymore and you’re not writing anymore. You just sit around and do nothing.”
“You don’t get it!” he yells. “I try so hard to be productive with my life; I try so hard to fall asleep and I try so hard to write something wonderful, but I can’t because I’m too tired!” He stands up and her hand falls onto the couch. He’s angry with her now. He barely has the energy to be so angry, but he is angry because it’s always his fault. Everything is his fault. He tries, but he doesn’t try hard enough.
“Dan, calm dow—”
“No, you will not tell me what to do in my own home! Get out!”
She leaves but only because Dan is forcefully pushing her out of his door. She’s trying to talk to him, but it’s going in one ear and right out the other. They’re all just words anyway and words are only important if you make them important.
His thoughts are his own personal hell now, and they certainly feel like hell when they’re all so negative and anger-driven. He’s burning himself and everyone around him, but he can’t stop. He has said that he’s got it all around control, but the truth is he doesn’t. His body isn’t his own and it isn’t pleasant to live in.
He’s not sure if he can continue with this, with all of these contradictions. He’s so tired he can barely function, but he can’t fall asleep. He’s constantly thinking, but he’s not thinking at the same time. He wants to make friends, but he wants to push everyone away. His life is one big nonevent and it’s hard for him to continue living like this. He misses when colors weren’t a vacation away but a way of life. He misses when nights weren’t for overthinking but instead pleasant dreams that were a nice escape from reality.
He waits a little before he returns to the coffee shop because he doesn’t want Phil to worry about him just like Louise did and by the time he was ready to return, Phil wasn’t working. It’s Tuesday morning when he finally gets out of his bed and drives to the place, but this time, he has his laptop because he feels like talking to Phil and his laptop is an excellent excuse for him to stay.
This time when he walks up to the counter, he says, “One caramel macchiato for here please.”
Phil is clearly taken by surprise, but he doesn’t say anything until he’s made the coffee. “What made you decide to stay this time?”
He’s even more sunken in than the last time Dan saw him and he definitely looks worn out, but he ignores that because he expects people to ignore his problems, so he’s going to do the same for others. It’s none of his business.
“I need a calming place to write,” he says, motioning to his laptop bag. He grabs his coffee and—for a second—he wishes that he had been smart enough to set down his laptop before ordering, but he gets it all safely to the table anyway.
He sits down at the table and pulls his laptop bag out of his laptop, opening it up once it’s fully out and settled on the bag. He slowly sips his coffee as he waits for it to start up.
“So, you’re a writer?” Phil asks, once again tapping his fingers.
“I used to be, but I’m trying to get back into the habit.”
The atmosphere is tense for some strange reason and Dan feels like he’s lying, even though he’s not. But he can’t help but feel like his words make it seem like he hasn’t been on the New York Times Bestseller list, even though he has. And he’s always been a writer, despite the fact that he hasn’t written anything substantial in forever. Deciding that it’s probably because they’re alone in such a big place, Dan ignores the feeling.
“Have you ever gotten anything published?” Phil says as he walks out from behind the counter and towards Dan.
Dan can’t stop staring at Phil. He has noticed his skinny body before, but he has never realized just how bad it is. Phil’s legs are skinny and his work uniform shows no curves. Despite the fact that it’s one of the smallest sizes Dan’s ever seen, it’s still too big. But it’s not Dan’s place to judge, so he keeps quiet.
(Plus, he’s just too tired to start another argument; he’s still worn out from the one with Louise despite it having been four days ago.)
“Yeah, I guess you could say that I have,” he says. He hates all the attention; he hates it. It’s all too much for his mind to process and he feels pressured to act a certain way and fuck, he doesn’t know if there is a casual way to bring up all of your success.
It’s hard; it’s so hard. He wants to be open about himself, but he’s always so unsure of himself. Everything he does is wrong. He can’t write the right words and he can’t do the right things. He’s a walking mistake and it’s so hard for him to let people in and see just how messed up he is. But Phil’s practically inviting himself in and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to think, but he has to do it.
“What’s your full name? I want to look you up when I get home,” Phil says.
“Dan Howell,” he says without thinking. Before he knows it, he’ll be telling Phil his life story at this rate.
“So you’re the legendary Dan Howell?” Phil’s looking at him with an interested smile and god dammit, he’s heard of him and he wasn’t expecting that for some reason. “I almost bought one of your books, but I . . . well never mind about me. You’re the famous writer. Tell me something about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” Dan asks and shit, shit, shit, he’s digging himself an even bigger hole. But it’s hard to filter your thoughts and your words when all of your energy is going towards staying alive.
He’s not even typing and he wonders whether or not Phil’s noticed. He hasn’t even logged into his computer. He sort of hopes that Phil notices, because he notices everything about Phil: from the way his eyes look sad to the way he never stops moving his fingers to an imaginary beat.
“The interesting stuff,” Phil says, leaning forward.
Dan closes his laptop; it’s just another thing blocking Phil from his view and he isn’t going to use it anyway.
“I’m not interesting. I grew up here and I wrote a few good books that put my name out there and then I hit rock bottom, all the ideas left me and I pushed people away. There isn’t anything else to say.”
“I’m Phil Lester. I grew up in a small town nearby but moved here to go to college. I got a degree in English Language and Linguistics and a post graduate in the Department of Theatre, Film, and Television and got a Master of Arts in Video Postproduction with specialization in Visual Effects. I’m still trying to find my footing right now, so I’m working at a coffee shop at night to help pay off my student loans. I’m also working as a video editor, but I’m hoping to be promoted soon because I really need the money,” he says.
Dan thinks it’s nice to know so much about a person and he truly believes that knowing what someone went to college for right down to the T is very personal when they tell it to you. He isn’t sure why; all he knows is that he feels so much more connected to Phil than he did before and he is honestly so scared that he’s going to regret it later on, but he can’t help it. Phil’s different and he likes different, because he’s different himself.
“My favorite color is black,” Dan says out of nowhere. “I know it isn’t very interesting, but I feel like knowing someone’s favorite color is something that you need to know to be their friend.” He wants to tell himself that Phil isn’t his friend in any way, shape, or form, but he knows he would be lying to himself if he says anything like that. Phil’s comforting and he hasn’t known Dan long enough to know what’s going on, which makes hanging out with him safe.
“My favorite color is blue.”
“Like the color of your eyes?” he asks and he has started tapping his fingers on the table also as he stares deep into Phil’s beautiful blue eyes. “Your eyes are really pretty. I like them.” He smiles softly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes because his eyes are clouded over with exhaustion and that’s something that only sleep can fix.
“Not quite,” Phil says, “but thanks. I like your eyes, too.”
Dan thinks about his eyes and how boring they are. Phil must be lying because nobody can find something so ugly and plain so beautiful.
“They aren’t special or anything; they’re just brown,” Dan says, dismissing what Phil said. He doesn’t want to be lied to.
“They’re brown in color but they’re colorful in so many ways. And who is to say that brown eyes can’t be fascinating?” Phil says. He brings his hand up to run his fingers lightly over Dan’s cheek. “I, for one, find your eyes lovely.”
“I gotta go,” Dan lies, “but I’ll text you soon.” He doesn’t need to go because he doesn’t have anything else to do, but he doesn’t want to deal with Phil anymore because he hates liars and Phil’s being a liar. His eyes aren’t pretty. They’re too tired to be pretty. Everything about Dan is too tired to be pretty.
It’s five o’clock in the afternoon and Dan is bored. Well, actually, he’s mainly tired but he’s also bored. He doesn’t have anybody to talk to or hang out with and he’s just so goddamn jaded all of the time and he can’t pretend to know what he’s going to do because he has no clue when it comes to anything.
He’s sitting on his couch staring at the television. Some stupid cooking show is on, but he doesn’t care. He’s not watching it. Everything is moving too fast for his brain to register it because he’s daydreaming again. In his daydreams, happiness is a reality and not something a daydream away, so he’d rather daydream than watch a boring show that he can’t get into anyway.
But the longer he sits there, the worse his boredom gets and it’s driving him crazy. He can’t help but think that before the sleep deprivation kills him he’ll end up in a mental institution.
He’s fidgeting and he’s tapping his fingers just like Phil does. When he realizes just what he’s doing, he can’t get Phil out of his thoughts because Phil told him to text him if he ever needed anybody to talk to and he really needs someone to talk to right now.
He grabs his phone off of the coffee table that’s right in front of his couch and he opens Phil’s contact. He’s about to send a text to Phil when he remembers that he really hates texting people because it’s so impersonal.
The phone rings for a few seconds before Phil picks it up. “Hello?” Phil asks out of breath, as if he’s been exercising for a while.
“Hi, this is Dan,” he says. He doesn’t know where to go with the conversation after that. It’s hard to continue a conversation when you haven’t had a decent one in ages. He’s hoping that Phil will say something, anything, but he knows he’s the one who called and he should be able to explain why he called. “I, uh, was wondering if you might want to hang out today.”
Dan still doesn’t really have the energy to do much, but he figures that he can manage to survive going out for dinner.
“Sure. Where and when?”
“The restaurant right next to the coffee shop in thirty minutes?” he asks.
“Okay, yeah, that works,” Phil says. They say their goodbyes and hang up.
Dan’s in a rush to get ready and he’s not sure why. Thirty minutes is plenty enough time to get dressed (he’s still in his pajamas) and to drive to the restaurant, but he finds himself moving as quickly as possible, which isn’t very fast, admittedly. Still, despite his loneliness and his longing to have a close friend, he hasn’t found himself this excited to hang out with someone in a long time and he keeps on asking himself why, why, why.
He’s moving so fast that his actions are all a blur in his head and he’s dressed before he knows it. And when he checks the time on his phone, he sees that he still has twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant and he knows he doesn’t need that much time because it’s only about ten minutes away, give or take.
He grabs his keys and he’s out the door, his wallet and phone in his pockets.
He focuses on the steps that he’s taking as he walks to the elevator. It’s not nighttime, so he’s hanging onto the fact that he rarely falls asleep during the day, meaning that he doesn’t have to worry about nodding off while in the elevator. When he reached the elevator, he presses the down button and waits until it comes up. Luckily enough, he’s the only one in the elevator when he gets on because he really hates having to share it with other people, especially his nosy neighbors.
The air is chilly and once again, Dan forgot his coat, but it’s sort of okay because he’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt anyway. Plus, he kind of likes the cold wind right now because it’s rejuvenating in a way that he’s not sure how to explain. All he knows is that he likes it and that it gives him something to think about other than his past, his exhaustion and his failed writing career.
The walk to his car is over quickly and soon, he’s sitting in his car, driving down the road. He knows he shouldn’t drive when he’s so tired, but he can’t walk either because he drains him of energy that he doesn’t even have.
He’s stuck in his thoughts as he drives. He can’t help but think about Phil because there is something off about him, but he’s so nice to Dan even though he barely knows him and most people probably would be quick to judge a guy who only drinks coffee at weird hours. On top of that, Phil is weirdly skinny in sickening way and although Dan hasn’t seen Phil’s legs without pants covering them, he can imagine them as small as sticks. The more he thinks about Phil, the guiltier he feels because it’s wrong to speculate about people and his thoughts are moving in a nice direction.
Before his thoughts can take him in an even worse direction, he arrives at the restaurant and he’s a little over ten minutes early.
The restaurant isn’t very packed, which makes Dan happy, and the colors are lighter. But they’re still far happier than Dan. It’s one of those sit down anywhere restaurants where you don’t have to wait for a waiter to come, which makes Dan happy, because he’s always hated those restaurants. He sits down and waits, observing everybody else as he does so.
He has this thing where he likes to see how other people act and he isn’t sure why he’s like this. He’s just always had this obsession, but at the very least, it gives him something to think about. After all, he’s always looking for a good distraction.
“Hi, Dan,” Phil says, sitting down at the table Dan picked out. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he says. “I’ve been waiting to order until you got here.”
“Oh, that’s okay; I’m not very hungry,” Phil says and now Dan is really worrying because someone that skinny should probably eat.
Sure, there’s always the possibility that Phil is just naturally skinny and he’s tried gaining weight before. But Dan knows his symptoms. He’s never personally experienced them, but he’s had family and friends who’ve suffered through eating disorders before and he knows how they can affect people. He knows he can’t confront Phil without expecting Phil to confront him, but a knot is forming in his stomach as he continues to think about Phil’s small frame.
“Okay,” he says, ignoring all of his thoughts. It’s not his business, he reminds himself.
Shortly afterwards, the waiter comes and he orders a burger and some fries along with some water.
“Dan,” Phil says out of nowhere. Before he spoke, they had just been sitting there in silence. “Are you an insomniac?”
“What?” Dan asks, his heart racing in his chest. He has been ignoring Phil’s problems, so Phil should do the same for him. But clearly, Phil isn’t thinking like him right now, which is super disappointing because Dan had hoped that he would understand.
“I’ve been really curious as to why you’re always up so late and you always look so tired, so I looked up your symptoms online, and it all fits. That’s why you visit the coffee shop so late!” he says. “You do know that there is medicine you can take, right?”
Dan is shocked into silence for a few seconds and he’s trying to gather his thoughts and he’s so angry right now he could say anything. “What about you? Huh? You’ve got an eating disorder, right? That’s why you’re not eating right now and you look so skinny! And you know what? There are forms of treatment for eating disorders, too.”
Phil is clearly taken back and he looks so sad. Dan wants to feel bad for even a split second, but his insomnia is a sore subject.
Phil gets up without saying anything. Dan’s eyes follow him as he walks to the door and just as Phil’s about to leave, he casts a really disappointed look over his shoulder and then he’s gone.
Dan sits in silences as he waits for his food to come. He can’t believe how the night turned out. Before he had even gotten his food, he had gotten in a fight with Phil. He knows why he’s angry and he knows that if it was anybody else he would be fuming right now, but it feels different with him, because Phil’s different. Phil’s got problems of his own and now Dan understands. He understands why all of his friends are so forceful with trying to get him to go to a doctor. Phil doesn’t want Dan to be like him; he’s okay with all of the problems he has, but he refuses to accept the problems that everybody else have, just like he can’t ignore Dan’s.
It takes a few days for Dan to mentally prepare himself, but by the time he feels like he’s got all of his emotions under control, he goes to visit his parents and after them, he’ll visit Louise. Slowly but surely, he plans to apologize to every one of his friends that he’s done wrong in some way since his insomnia started. But before he does that, after he’s done apologizing to his parents and Louise, he’s going to go see a doctor because he needs something to help him sleep at night.
He knocks on the door to his parent’s house at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday. He hasn’t told them that he’s visiting because he wants it to be a surprise. He hopes that they’ll forgive him, but he’s not even sure that he would forgive him. He’s done some pretty fucked up things in the past, but he’s counting on the fact that they’re his parents.
His mom is the one who opens the door and she gasps when she sees him. “Matthew, Dan’s here!” she yells over her shoulder at his father and instantly, the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs can be heard. She turns back around to face him. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much, honey. You never visit anymore and I’ve been really worried about you lately. Louise keeps telling me that you’re not sleeping very much anymore.”
“That’s actually what—” Dan starts, but he is cut off by the appearance of his father.
“I’ve missed you so much,” his father says as he goes in for a hug. Dan doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the hug and soon enough, his mother has joined in. it feels really nice to be so close to his parents after such a long time. He hadn’t realized just how much he has missed them until now.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he says. His voice gets muffled a little bit, but he’s still clear enough to be heard.
They walk inside shortly after that and they sit in the living room on the couch. Dan can tell that his parents are curious as to what he has to say, but he wants to gather his thoughts.
“As you know, I haven’t been sleeping a lot lately and whenever someone’s tried to help me, I’ve just pushed them away. I thought I could deal with it on my own, but most importantly, I thought I deserved what I had gotten,” Dan says, sighing at the end. He has so much to say; he didn’t realize it would be so hard to say it all.
“However, I’ve met someone who has helped show me that no one deserves this and I want you guys to know that I’m going to go see a doctor soon and see what they can do about my insomnia.”
“I’m so proud of you!” his mother says. “It’s been so hard to hear about how bad you’ve been doing. I’m glad you’re going to do something good for yourself.”
His dad nods along as she talks and he gets the message. He’s repaired his broken relationship with his parents.
He’s proud of himself, too. He’s still so goddamn tired, but he’s finally seeing the world through two open eyes instead of two closed eyes.
Next, he has to talk to Louise. He’s a little bit more worried about her because the last time they talked, he was horrible. He actually warns her in advance because he doesn’t want to meet at one of their places as he’s too afraid that there will be yelling if they’re somewhere private.
He gets there early because he doesn’t want her to have another reason to be mad at him and he waits for close to ten minutes, but he’s happy to wait if it means he gets her back.
When Louise shows up, only a minute late, they sit in an uncomfortable and awkward silence. Dan doesn’t know what to say to make her forgive him. They have no ties that bind them to each other, like the ties between a mother and her son or a father and his son. So forgiveness isn’t implied at all and he realizes now just how caring and understanding and patient she has been with him all this time. He’s worried that he’s fucked up too bad for her to forgive and forget.
“I’m going to go to a doctor. You were right; I do need to get help,” he says finally, “and I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”
“Dan, it’s okay. I forgive you. I will admit, I was very angry with you after the last time we talked, but I know this is hard for you and as long as you’re willing to get help and admit that you have a problem, that I have no problem forgiving you,” she says.
A weight is lifted off of his shoulders and he feels so free. He feels lively in a way that you can’t feel through hours of sleep. He knows he has so much work ahead of him, but he has the support of his family and Louise. Now all he has to do is go to the doctor and make up with Phil.
He schedules a doctor’s appointment as soon as he goes home after hanging out with Louise. The next day, he goes in and he’ll admit that he’s very anxious about it all, but he knows it’s for the best.
“So, why are you here today?” the doctor asks.
“I haven’t been able to sleep very well for almost six months. I can fall asleep for a few hours at most, but that’s it.”
He’s nervously swinging his legs back and forth. He’s tapping, too, just like Phil does. And for a split second, his nerves make him second guess everything, meaning he temporarily wants to back out, but he reminds himself that this is all for the best. (Hopefully, with the medicine, everything positive won’t be a daydream away and seeing colors won’t be an escape from his dark reality.)
“This has been going on for six months, you say?” she asks.
“Yes, I was too stubborn to go to a doctor until recently,” he says.
The doctor appointment goes over surprisingly well and Dan leaves with a prescription for a drug that will, hopefully, make him sleep better at night. He can take up to two a night and he has to take them thirty minutes before he wants to go to sleep. He’s still not sure about relying on pills to put him to sleep, but the doctor has also written him a prescription for anxiety that he thinks might help him relax.
Dan waits about a week to get in contact with Phil because he’s still so unsure about everything and he wants to give Phil time to calm down. He can’t meet with Phil at night because the medicine is helping a little bit and he’s getting a little more sleep each night. He’s still exhausted every morning, but it’s a start, so he knows that he’s going to actually call him and set up a time to hang out.
Finally, he works up the courage to pick up his phone and go to Phil’s contact and all of the sudden, he’s calling Phil.
“Please, please, please pick up,” he whispers as the phone continues to ring. On the final ring, his wish is granted.
“Hello?” Phil says. “What do you want?”
Dan has waited too long for him to sit in silence. He immediately answers. “I want to talk to you in person. Can we meet up at the restaurant? Please?”
“Fine,” he says, but he sounds angry.
Dan is so nervous and he can feel his stomach in his throat and he knows he can take one of his anxiety pills but he wasn’t his thoughts to be completely his own when he talks to Phil. But then he remembers that if he wants his dreams to become a reality, he needs to make an effort and he needs to take the medicine that’s going to feed what he needs. So he takes the medicine and then he drives to the restaurant, praying for the best.
Just like he did with Louise, he arrives few minutes early. He has to be on his best behavior to win Phil back.
When Phil arrives and sits down, he instantly says, “I went to see a doctor.”
“Huh?” Phil responds, sounding confused.
“I thought about what you said and I realized that I needed to get help. So I went to see a doctor. I’ve been taking sleeping pills and anxiety medication for about a week now.”
“Do you know what stressed you out? When I read about it online, they said that people develop insomnia from stress,” Phil says. “I’m sorry if that’s something weird to ask somebody right after you’ve just started talking again, but I’m curious.”
“No, it’s okay. It was the long nights that really did it. I was constantly stressed about finishing a chapter or a novel in time for the deadline that I would work until morning and then I wouldn't sleep much because I still had so much to do. The stress became too much and I haven't had a good night’s sleep in ages. But it's nice to talk to you because you don't act like you know everything and I think you understand that I'm trying to get better,” Dan says, the words flowing out of him as if he’s practiced them in a mirror (which he hasn’t).
Before Phil can respond, a waiter comes to take their order, but Dan isn’t particularly hungry and he knows Phil isn’t going to eat, so he just orders water for the both of them.
“Dan, I hope you aren’t doing this because you think I need to see a doctor,” he finally says, “but I am extremely proud of you either way. It takes a lot of courage to go through with something like that.”
“No, I—”
“I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Phil says, standing up, but he barely makes it a few steps from the table before he falls down.
Dan watches in silence, aware that he can do nothing, as he sees someone who he considers his best friend crash to the ground, and then, once it’s far too late, he’s screaming for someone to call 911 and rushing to Phil’s side. He knew he should have talked to Phil about his eating disorder sooner.
His memories blur together as he waits for the ambulance to come and he’s desperate now because even though he hasn’t talked to Phil in quite some time, he feels a serious connection to him. Phil understands him because Phil’s gone through shitty things, too, but now he’s afraid that he might lose Phil all because he was too stubborn to help.
He’s not even sure what’s happening as he watches the ambulance arrive and put Phil on a stretcher. He wants to go with Phil, but they’re not family and he’s not really sure where he stands with him.
Once the ambulance is gone, Dan leaves the restaurant.
He’s driving to the restaurant when it all crashes down on him. He has known what was going on with Phil for quite some time now, but he kept it to himself and now Phil is being rushed to the hospital. He hadn’t been thinking the last time they talked and he realizes that he went about it all wrong, but now it’s too late. He’s not sure what’s going to happen and quite frankly, he’s just not sure anymore.
This is all so stressful and he knows that when he gets excessively stressed, his insomnia acts up. Talking to Phil has only been counterproductive and he’s just trying to slow down his breathing before he gets to the hospital. But he’s still about ready to scream because he doesn’t know how to cope with this.
He gets to the hospital fifteen minutes later and he rushes inside to the front desk and asks repeatedly for Phil Lester. The lady must think he’s insane; he feels insane, but he needs to know where Phil is and how he’s doing.
She gives him directions to his room but tells him that a doctor might be in there with him right now, so he may have to wait, but he doesn’t care because he’s running, running, running, as soon as she’s done talking.
The phrase it’s all his fault keeps repeating itself in his head and he knows deep down that it isn’t his fault. Because Phil can’t control his eating disorder and because Dan didn’t know just how bad it had gotten, it’s neither of their faults, but Phil’s in a hospital and he keeps thinking that it could have been avoided if he was smarter.
But it’s not going to help if he keeps thinking about these things because right now, Phil needs somebody.
He gets to his room in no time. When he opens the door, Phil is lying on the bed, awake, with an IV in his arm. He looks horrible. He hadn’t realized before now, but Phil’s hair is falling out and he is pretty much the walking definition of all skin and bones.
“Hi,” he says as he walks further into the room and right up next to Phil’s bed. “How are you feeling?”
“They want me to go to a rehabilitation center. They think I have a problem,” Phil says, ignoring Dan’s question. “The doctor kept asking me questions when I woke up. I don’t want my family to worry about me.”
Dan wants to Phil that it’s all going to be okay, but he doesn’t know that for sure. He just knows that he’s going to stay by Phil’s side through thick and thin. He won’t allow him to push him away and hopefully, in the end, they’ll both be better for it.
Dan stays with Phil for the rest of his time at the hospital. Every day, he’s there. Phil’s parents are there a lot, too, and sometimes, he talks to them. But now it’s Phil’s last day in the hospital before he is moved to a rehabilitation center for who knows how long.
Dan’s sitting outside the room in the waiting area as he understands that Phil’s parents want to spend some quality time with him before he goes.
It took a while to convince him that it was for the best, but once Dan brought up how he had passed out when they were out to eat, it helped put things into perspective for Phil and he was able to agree that he needs to get help.
Dan still blames himself. It’s hard for him not to, but he’s starting to understand that somethings need to happen for help to be accepted and he doesn’t think that Phil would be so willing to go into rehab if it wasn’t for him passing out.
And his sleep schedule is messed up again, but it’s hard to fall asleep when he’s so stressed out about Phil.
“You can go in and see him if you want,” Mrs. Lester tells Dan as she and Mr. Lester walk out of Phil’s room. “He’ll probably want to see you before he has to go.”
“Okay,” he says, getting out of his chair and heading towards the door to Phil’s room.
He’s nervous for Phil for some reason. He wasn’t nervous before, but walking into his room makes it all feel different. He knows how scary change can be and it was pretty scary for him to admit that he has a problem, so he can only imagine how hard it’s going to be for Phil because Phil actually has to stay at a place to get better. Dan was just prescribed medicine, but it’s not that easy to get over anorexia.
“What do you think it’s going to be like at rehab?” Phil asks as soon as he enters.
He goes to take a seat next to Phil’s bed. Phil is sitting up in his bed, looking at him as he moves.
He considers what he’s going to say. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I’ve never thought about going to one before, so I wouldn’t have a clue. I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad.”
“I just keep imaging a place where I’m force fed food by aggressive doctors,” Phil says.
“Well, I’m sure they’re going to force you to eat, but I don’t think they’re going to be super aggressive about it.”
“Yeah . . . I just I’m afraid that I’m not going to get better.”
“I know it’s not as simple as wanting to get better so you get better, but as long as you try, you’ll get better eventually. I believe in you.”
Phil looks away from Dan and out the window in his room. The clouds are out and it looks like it’s going to rain.
“I’m not sure I believe in myself.”
Dan can’t really get in contact with Phil all that much because he’s not family, so he can’t visit. Phil only gets to use his phone for a few short hours every day if he earns it, and some days, he doesn’t earn it, so Dan can’t talk to him.
But still, Dan grows ever closer to Phil as he reads stories about Phil’s time at the center and he finds himself developing a crush on him. If it wasn’t for Phil, Dan doesn’t know where he would be right now. After all, it was Phil that finally made Dan realize that he needed to get help. And Phil is so brave that it’s hard not to like him.
He’s most definitely ready for Phil to get let out.
Until then, he knows he should use his time alone to better himself and his relationships with his friends. His plan had originally been to start talking to them after he was done talking to Phil, but those plans were set aside when Phil ended up in the hospital, but now, he has all this time to do it, so he figures that it’s now or never.
Slowly, he makes his way around all of his friends and for the most part, they all understand. Some aren’t as quick to forgive, but he sees where they’re coming from. He made a lot of mistakes, did a lot of horrible things to his friends, and he never expected to win them back automatically. Actually, he’s quite surprised when so many of them are ready to start over again, but he doesn’t question it and he’s glad that he has friends who get what it’s like to lose control of your thoughts and your life.
Most importantly, however, he’s happy. He realizes that he still has a long road of recovery ahead of him, but he has his friends and his family by his side and that’s all he’s ever wanted—and needed. Colors aren’t something that he has to look forward to anymore because his life is colorful in so many ways and he’s finally seeing the shades of gray in between the black and the white.
Phil’s in there for two months before he gets out. Naturally, he spends his first few days with his parents and Dan waits anxiously for Phil to be ready to spend time with him. When the time comes, he’s more than prepared and he invites Phil over to his place.
The second Phil knocks on the door, Dan is opening up (he might have been standing by the door waiting) and he envelopes Phil in a big hug. They pull back after a few minutes and Dan cannot resist giving Phil a quick kiss on the lips. It’s short and it’s sweet, but it conveys all of his feelings and he thinks Phil might feel the same way because he didn’t pull away. When the kiss is over, they’re both blushing messes.
“I missed you,” Dan says shyly as he leads Phil into his house, closing the door behind them.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Phil says.
They get situated on Dan’s couch.
Dan can’t believe how much fuller and more alive Phil looks. He isn’t super skinny anymore and when they hugged, Dan could barely feel his bones. His eyes are brighter as if they’re filled with stars and it’s such a pleasant sight that Dan wants to kiss Phil again (and again).
“So, how do I look?” Phil asks after a few seconds of somewhat awkward silence.
“You look amazing,” he says. “I mean it.”
The rosy color on Phil’s cheeks darkens at the compliment, but he doesn’t look away from Dan.
“I want you to know how I developed anorexia, just like you wanted me to know how you developed insomnia,” Phil says, staring into Dan’s eyes. “I just don’t know how to say it all.”
“Just say whatever comes to mind,” Dan says, “but don’t feel obligated to say anything.”
Phil stays quiet for a few seconds and Dan assumes that he’s trying to piece together all of his thoughts. “I ate a lot as a kid. Weight wasn't something that I worried about. I never got too big, but when everybody I looked up to and surrounded myself with was so skinny, I wanted to be skinny and I never realized how far my obsession had gotten until I ended up in the hospital because I was malnourished. For a while, I was getting better but I was also putting on some weight. When I went to the doctor for a routine check-up, I saw my weight on the scale and I couldn't take it anymore. I spiraled out of control after that.”
Dan doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words when it comes to comforting friends. Words don’t even come easy to him when he’s trying to write, but he has more time to think about those words than when he’s talking to a friend.
“You don’t have to respond, but I just wanted to tell you. I thought you had a right to know. You were the only friend of mine to visit me all the time when I was in the hospital and that means so much to me.”
“It was nothing,” he says, still feeling very shy and a little uncomfortable. “I would have wanted you to do the same thing if it was me.”
“I really like you, Dan,” Phil says sincerely, “as more than a friend.”
“I really like you, too, as more than a friend.”
They take things slow. They go out on dates and they hold hands in public. They’re going on their fourth date tonight and it’s at the coffee shop that they first met at. It’s been awhile since that fateful night and since then, Phil’s quit his job there because he was finally promoted and Dan’s started working on a new novel (that may or may not be based around his and Phil’s relationship and their own personal struggles).
Phil picks Dan up like the gentleman he is and he drives them to the shop.
The lights are dimmer than Dan remembers and the colors aren’t as spectacular. But Dan thinks that’s because bright lights and wonderful colors are his life now.
There are people moving about and drinking their coffees and talking to their friends. Dan loves the atmosphere and mixed with the smell, he can’t think of a better place for their fourth date.
“Do you want a caramel macchiato?” Phil asks and Dan’s not surprised that he still remembers his favorite drink.
“Yes, please,” he says, smiling wide.
Dan finds a table while Phil goes to order and Dan purposely picks the table that they first sat at together when Dan brought his laptop forever ago. He doesn’t know if Phil will remember or not, but it feels right to sit here.
He’s not sure, but he thinks that Phil is finally going to ask him to be his boyfriend and it feels right to begin their relationship right where their friendship started.
“One caramel macchiato,” Phil says as he sits down across from Dan.
“Thank you,” Dan says, laughing.
Dan would say that they don’t talk about anything important, but the truth is, when you make words important, anything can be important. And he definitely thinks that any words that come out of Phil’s mouth are important.
It’s nearing an hour into their date when the conversation stops. Phil’s staring at Dan in a way that makes Dan feel like the most special person in the world and he can feel in his gut that this is the moment he’s been waiting for.
“Dan, I really like you and I really like going on dates with you,” Phil says, “but I don’t want to just be your friend anymore. Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Dan says giddily, his smile so wide that it stretches from ear to ear. In his head he adds yes, yes, yes, but he feels like he shouldn’t say yes that many times unless it’s a marriage proposal (which he does hope is in their future). “I would love to be your boyfriend.”
The rest of their date goes surprisingly well and once they’re done at the coffee shop, they go back to Dan’s place to watch movies together and cuddle on his couch.
It doesn’t feel right to not tell Louise about him and Phil. He’s already told his parents over the phone and they’ve said that they want to meet him sometime. But after everything he’s put her through, Dan feels like Louise deserves to meet Phil first. (Of course, he knows that he put his parents through a lot, too, but he never got physical with him like he did with her.)
Phil stays over the night before Louise is supposed to come over. As soon as they are both awake in the morning, they start to prepare for her arrival. They clean up the house and they make some lunch.
It’s one o’clock when she finally comes over. She gives Dan a big hug when she sees him and then she gives Phil one, too, despite having never met him. It looks like she’s whispering something in his ear from where Dan is standing, but he can’t hear whatever she says.
They all sit down for lunch after the greetings.
“So what is it you do for a living?” Louise asks Phil and Dan is super happy that she doesn’t bring up his struggle with anorexia (Dan told her when Phil was in the hospital because she kept on wondering where he was), as she understands that it’s not something you can easily talk about.
“I work with special effects and video editing,” he tells her.
“That’s really cool!” she says. “You’ll have to work on the movie version of one of Dan’s books. Oh, have you read any of them?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I bought one of them shortly after I found out he was a famous writer. He’s really good.”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I wasn’t here,” Dan says, trying to sound angry, but he can’t stop laughing because he’s just so happy.
The rest of lunch goes really well and Louise and Phil get along wonderfully. Dan thinks it’s great that his best friend and his boyfriend are friends. It feels like his life is finally coming together.
When Louise leaves, Dan asks Phil what Louise whispered in his ear and he says, “She told me that she’s really glad that we’re together because she hasn’t seen you so happy in ages,” which makes Dan blush.
Sometimes, they look back on how their lives were when they first met, how they used to see only eternal darkness when they looked into the future. But now, all they see are bright, shining stars of hope. They’re not quite sure where they would be without each other, but they don’t want to figure out.
Things aren’t perfect by any means. Occasionally, Dan finds it hard to fall asleep, but Phil’s always there to cuddle with him when he needs him. And when Phil struggles with his weight, Dan is always there to help him out and to remind him of why things like weight shouldn’t matter. But in the end, they have each other and that’s all that really matters.