A/N: I know Dan and Phil's radio show doesn't exist anymore, but it helps with the story, so everything's gonna be okay. Enjoy the chapter :)
P.S. those pictures of Dan are literally my favorite thing ever like how the fuck can someone be that hot?

Your POV

One week later

We still have no idea who could've been the one to break into the apartment. There's a camera in the hallway, but of course Dan and Phil's door is in it's blind spot. Phil had printed out a sign that says "Close the Door" and taped it to the door, which Dan finds ironic, since he's sure it was Phil who had forgotten to close it.

Dan and I had a "talk," and I told him I forgave him from assuming it had been me to take his pills. However, I think I'm only forcing myself to think that, as I can't let myself lose him, or I'd be throwing away everything good in my life I've found in the months it's been since I've moved. He asked me where I had gotten the weed, and I told him I had bought it from some sketchy dude I found in town, not telling him about the stash I already have. He didn't try and dig further into that, but part of me thinks he just wants to avoid the topic, hoping it will just blow over.

I still feel tension between us, but I think that might just be my doing. I can't give up the hostility I put up whenever we're in the same room, and I hope it's not obvious that I'm basically avoiding him. Yes, I laugh at his jokes, go out with him, and have conversations, but it's almost completely forced.

I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I'm just hoping I can fake it until it gets back to this point.

On another note, all but one of my sweatshirts at Dan's apartment have been stolen, and the one that hadn't been taken was in Dodie's room, as she had borrowed it a few days ago. Everyone's room had a few things misplaced, as if someone had hastily fumbled through their belongings, but there's nothing noticeable missing. It's understandable why someone would steal pills, but why wouldn't they just take the whole bottle? And why would they only take my sweatshirts, or just sweatshirts in general?

I'm currently sitting in my own apartment, editing a new video. This past week I've spent mostly here, because I kinda just want to be alone a lot more than usual. On the bright side, I've been able to make it a lot more homey. I've dusted and swept, done my laundry and put it away in my own closet, gotten groceries to put in my own kitchen, and even splurged on some new decor, along with new clothes, as the weather has been changing a lot in the last few weeks. I had gotten a few posters, curtains, and just relatively more colorful things to make my apartment more of a reflection of myself. I even went to a few bookstores to fill the built-in bookshelves that came in my room, and even though there's still an enormous amount of empty space, it still looks a bit better.

I start uploading the video, and walk to the kitchen, plopping some waffles in my toaster and grabbing a few ingredients from the fridge. I prepare some lettuce, sliced tomatoes, avocados, turkey, and a few other things. Once the two waffles pop out of the toaster, I pull them up, and assemble my sandwich. I haven't made a sandwich using waffles since I was probably nine years old. My mom and I would do this multiple times a week, until her boyfriend moved and and she started investing all her time and attention into him. I cut the sandwich in half with a knife, and take a large bite. Just a touch of nostalgia creeps in and a drop of sadness mixes with the content that came from the delicious bite.

I finish the sandwich, clean up the dishes, and lean against the island, thinking of something to do. I decide to go for the one thing I always do when I'm bored, and scroll through some comments on my recent uploads.

You look tired. You doing okay?

Are you ever going to explain what's happening between you and Dan?

Youtubers never answer those kinds of questions. Keeping us in the dark only gives them more publicity.

What ever happened to PJ? Wasn't she fucking around with him?

I roll my eyes. We wouldn't be keeping it from people because we want more publicity, we'd keep it a secret because neither of us need that sort of drama in our lives. And how the fuck did anyone find out about PJ? I guess it wasn't like we ever hid our relationship in public, however, so someone might've seen us around town and posted something about it. What ever happened to privacy?

Dan's POV

I think (Y/n) doesn't realize I can tell she still has a bit of hostility toward me, but honestly, I can't blame her. However, I'm not the kind of person who's able to initiate that kind of conversation, so I think both of us are just waiting it out, expecting everything to go back to the way it was eventually. I don't really know how possible that is, however.

I miss her. Like, way too much. Yeah, I see her, and talk to her, and do things with her, but it's not the real her anymore. The version of her who trusted me and was okay being at least a little vulnerable around me. I know she has a valid reason for feeling that way about me, but I just want things to go back to normal.

Your POV

You think you're broken inside. But in reality, you're just a bitch.

Normally, even as someone with low self esteem and whatnot, hate comments never really got to me. However, this one stuck. Maybe I've just been using my problems as excuses this whole time. Maybe I'm just a sour, entitled, total cunt. Maybe I just couldn't accept that, so I subconsciously fit everything to my own narrative.

This is the kind of thing that will send me spiraling into an existential crisis. Am I just overreacting to everything? Maybe in reality, I'm the one always in the wrong, but no one has the nerve to tell me.

"Hey, what's up?" Dan answers his apartment door, his brows narrowed in concern as he's instantly able to make out the concern in my face.

"I'm so sorry," I say quickly. "I know I can be a bitch, and I'm entitled, and I make everything about me, and sometimes it seems like you can't even get through to me because I think I'm always right. I'm sorry I force you to deal with my issues and don't let you ever have a say and get butthurt when you show any kind of concern even if deep down that's all I'm really searching for. Maybe I just thrive off of attention and validation to the point where I flaunt my issues like something I'm proud of to gain the sympathy of others. I'm sorry I'm just...kind of a bitch."

Dan only stands in the doorway, looking taken aback. Then, he finally says, "Why the fuck do you think you need to apologize?"

Um, didn't I just give him like a thousand reasons at once?

"Because I'm only now starting to realize that I'm actually horrible," I answer.

"What the bloody hell got this idea in your head that your horrible?"

I hesitate for a second, realizing my answer might sound a little pathetic. "I was, uh, reading some comments on one of my videos," I reply in a small voice. Dan rolls his eyes in response.

"Oh my God, (y/n), none of that is true. Maybe you haven't realized this because you've never had someone to tell you this, but you're actually pretty fucking amazing."

"Stop," I demand. "I know I'm pathetic, I basically force validation out of you. I'm sorry it's like there's something wrong with me."

"The only thing wrong with you is for some reason you can't tell that people like you. You're so easily convinced that there's something wrong with you, but that's just not true."

I hang my head, not knowing how to respond. Luckily, Dan continues. "I know no matter what I say, it's never gonna get you to believe one hundred percent how absolutely perfect you are. However, That doesn't mean I'm gonna stop saying it."

"Thanks," I whisper, unable to think of any other reaction. I look up at Dan, and the next thing I know, he has his arms around me, and I'm breathing in his scent, instantly filling me with happiness and calming me.

"I'm sorry," I mutter into his chest.

"You have no reason to be," he breaths into my hair, rubbing my back with his hand. However, he doesn't know what I'm really apologizing for. What I'm really sorry for is the fact that I ever thought I couldn't trust him.

~~~~

"Just because you're expected to go, doesn't mean I have to, too!"

"Come on, I'll look totally ridiculous if I showed up without a date."

"You can hang out with Phil. He's supposed to be your best friend, isn't he?"

"He's bringing Dodie, and I'm definitely not going to be an awkward third wheel."

"That would make a perfect story time video, wouldn't it?"

Dan huffs in overexaggerated frustration, running his hands through his curls. God, that shouldn't turn me on as much as it should.

Dan and Phil have both been invited to a huge gala for basically anyone big in the entertainment industry. However, they weren't invited because of their YouTube following, but because of their radio show, so there's not really going to be any YouTubers there. Because there won't be anyone in the online community, Dan thinks it'll be okay for him to bring me as his actual date, since there won't be anyone who could leak our relationship.

Part of me would love to go, but I also know I'm not the sort of person who goes to huge prestigious events such as this. There's gonna be huge producers, talk show hosts, directors, actual famous people. I'll be a cockroach in a room full of butterflies.

"What's keeping you from wanting to go?" Dan asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shrug. "It's just not my scene, I guess."

He laughs. "What, and you think it's mine? Trust me, I don't fit in in these types of places either. That's why I need you to make sure I don't embarrass myself too much."

"Okay, but what do I get out of this?" I joke, only half kidding.

"You get to see me all dapper and dressed up, obviously. What else do you need?" He laughs.

I roll my eyes. "What, and that's supposed to be a plus side?" Dan puts his hand on his heart and puts a dramatically betrayed expression on his face, making me giggle. "Ugh, fine, I guess I can go."

"Yes!" Dan exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

"You are such a dork."

~~~~

"Why did I agree to this?"

"Because it's gonna be fun! Maybe you could find an agent, or meet famous people!"

"Okay, that could happen, but I could also embarrass the shit out of myself, ruining any chance of ever boosting my career."

Dodie rolls her eyes. We're getting ready in my flat, Dodie doing her hair as I put on makeup. I had just bought my dress two days ago, a light lavender off the shoulder dress that I had immediately fallen in love with.

This is definitely the most dressed up I've gotten for anything. I'm petrified of embarrassing the shit out of myself, as I'm sure I'm not gonna know what to do with myself. 

Once we finish getting ready, Dodie dresses in an elegant yellow dress, perfectly complimenting her skin tone. I go into my room, and put on my dress, along with silver earrings and heels.

"Oh my gawd, you're so pretty, it's not even fair!" Dodie exclaims, and I feel myself blush.

"Shut up, you look absolutely stunning," I reply, grabbing my phone and putting it into the tiny silver clutch I had also purchased yesterday. Dodie and I had also gotten our nails done yesterday, and she insisted on me getting acrylics for the first time. They were long, and honestly a little hard to get used to, and I still struggled to do anything on my phone, or even just pick things up.

I lock my apartment door behind me as Dodie knocks on Dan and Phil's apartment. Dan swings the door open, him and Phil both coming out into the hall, each dressed in a tux.

Holy shit, Dan really is sexy.

I catch Dan's eyes widen as he checks me out, and I can't help but laugh. Dan looks up at me, and I cock my eyebrow. He realizes I caught him, and blood rushes to his cheeks, giving me a nervous smile.

"Ready to go?" Dodie chirps. I nod my head, and we walk out of the apartment and into the street. Dan hails a taxi, and gives the driver the address to the party. We drive through the city, and after about thirty minutes, the taxi pulls up to a huge, glistening modern building, filled with extravagantly dressed people, and cars pulling up that were ten times more expensive than my monthly rent. My anxiety starts rising, and Dan seems to notice almost immediately, as he grabs my hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

Dan pays the driver, and we get out of the car. Jazz is blasting from the building, and I realize it's not coming from speakers, but a live band playing on a huge stage. We walk into an extravagant ballroom with crystal chandeliers and a large fountain in the foyer. Round tables with chairs encircling them line the walls, along with a large buffet table covered in exotic foods that I couldn't even figure out how to eat, much less identify what they even were.

"Um...do you know anyone here?" I whisper to Dan, our hands still entwined.

"Only my agent, and all the other people who work at BBC," he replies.

"Hey, you must be Daniel Howell!" Suddenly, a flamboyant looking older man with a potbelly and large mustache strides over to us. How did someone immediately recognize him the second we walked in?

"Um, hello..." he trails off awkwardly, glancing at me.

"Oh, how rude of me! I'm John Vanderwaal, producer, agent, owner of Mello Records," he basically flaunts, offering his hand out. Dan let's go of my hand, and shakes John's.

John seems to basically think I'm invisible, and dan and him have a long conversation. I can tell Dan is literally trying to think of any way to exit this conversation, especially since it was almost immediately obvious he only saw Dan as profit.

Eventually the man must spot someone he thinks is either more famous, or easier to get money from, and quickly excuses himself.

"Glad that's over with," Dan sighs, and I laugh.

"Hey, let's go pig out at that buffet table," I suggest.

"Sounds like a plan."

Dan and I gather all the most interesting, slightly suspicious food we can, and sit at a table tucked into a corner where basically no one can see us.

"So, what's the reason behind this party anyway?" I ask, biting into a sushi roll.

"I mean, technically it's just to, you know, celebrate all our success, or whatever. But really, it's just so people have the chance to find more business opportunities in what they think is a subtle attempt."

I nod. "Sounds nice. Have you ever been to one of these before?"

"Yeah, each year it's basically the same thing. Phil and I come together, old rich businessmen will come up to us occasionally, trying to get us to work with them. Obviously we'll always decline, until it gets around to basically everyone that we're not planning on making any deals, and when people stop paying attention, we'll leave."

"Wow," I chuckle. "That sounds like a lot of fun."

"Totally. It's the highlight of our year," he jokes, taking a sip of his wine. He glances around for a second, then suddenly asks me, "Hey, wanna dance?"

I raise my eyebrows, just holding back a laugh. "Are you serious? This fucking sushi roll can dance better than me," I say, pointing at my plate with my fork.

"I can't dance either, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun." He stands up and holds his hand out to me with a cheeky grin. I sigh, and grab it, and he leads me to the dance floor.

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Yayyy, everything's great! Also I survived the first week of driver's training, and I only have five weeks of school left, and I'm so fucking happy because I'm sick of being a freshman. However, how much I've changed and how much everyone I know has changed this year makes me cringe at my past self and gives me existential anxiety at the same time, so that's fun.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please remember to vote, comment and follow! I'll see you all later! 💜