dan

i sigh out of frustration, the buzzing of my phone yet again interrupting the chords on my screen that i'm using for reference, and i finally pick it off the deck of my piano, answering phil's twentieth call.

"what the hell do you want? don't you understand people can be busy if they are not picking up your fucking phone?" are the words that leave my mouth as soon as i press the phone to shell of my ear, and in response, phil puffs out a deep sigh.

"i'm sorry," he says, his tone the calmest it has been this week and i roll my eyes. he probably will start acting nice with me again so we can hook up, but honestly i'm not even interested in him as a person now. "i didn't mean to hurt you today it just—"

"save it please," my voice holds the annoyance that has been building up since that unfortunate day when i gave into him and let him use me. "what do you want?"

"wanted to ask if you were oka—"

"i'm great, anything else?"

"yeah," he sighs and i can almost imagine him scratching the back of his head as he says so. "chris wanted to meet you tomorrow so can you not act—"

"like a child? like i'm desperate? oh no, should i not act like i want to suck your dick because you sure seem to think that i wanted to do that all along don't you? or should i not invite you to my apartment because i want you to fuck me?" my words are leaving my lips in the form of pure aggravation, all that i've felt this past week that i've been trying to ignore, and phil stays speechless on the line as if he's waiting for me to continue.

"what even was that? do you really think that i would invite you to my apartment so we can have sex? is that what you thought of me?" i'm aware of my constantly raising voice, but it feels like i've finally let lose, the weight on my chest dissolving into thin air with every syllable.

"and what the hell do you mean it was consensual? after weeks of flirting with me and then asking me on a date and kissing me, do you expect me to know that it didn't mean anything to you? that you were just going to act like a fucking asshole after you get me a fucking flower? who does that?" all the questions hold confusion and a factor of unbelievability, that i hope phil can hear behind them.

"it meant something to you?" i hate the fact that he only chose to respond to one of my statements, i dig my nails into the soft leather of my seat to keep myself from screaming at him.

"that's not the fucking point! why the hell would you do something like this if you don't like me? because i'm hot? what kind of an explanation is that? you think rebecca is hot too, why don't you do that to her? or do you have something against me, wanting to constantly make everything harder? what's the fucking point phil?" i don't expect him to answer any of my questions, and just as i expected, he doesn't.

"look dan, i don't have time for all your bullshit about a stupid fucking kiss, why can't you just get over it and stop sulking about it?"

"because i finally thought someone liked me and you made me feel important and then you just—" a lump of embarrassment is settling in my throat and i try to gulp it down, try not to be any more vulnerable in front of phil.

"it's fine honestly, it's okay, i get it, it's my fault, i'll stop sulking," i wipe the moisture out of my eyes with the back of my hand and phil stays silent for a while before he starts speaking.

"i didn't say that i was gonna be your boyfriend? how fucking desperate can you be? just because a guy is flirting with you doesn't mean that he's madly in love with you my god, what the hell?" phil's voice holds ridicule and amusement and i can feel the weight settling back onto my chest, my breathing getting heavier as i listen to him.

"honestly, grow the hell up dan, what are you, twelve? can't handle that a guy kissed you and didn't mean it? now what, are you going to end your fucking life because of it? say that you're depressed?" his words are punctuated by a small laugh indicating how pathetic i am, and i bite my lip, gripping the seat tighter.

"be a little realistic and stop being a fucking pussy," i can imagine him rolling his eyes. "get over it,"

"okay," i'm glad that the word didn't crack as it slips my lips, my voice dropping down several octaves and hanging onto the last one like it's about to lose itself.

"what?"

"i said okay, i'll get over it, you did nothing, it's my fault,"

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do u like the new covers or nah