I had to attend a boarding school which was also in a treehouse, but there weren’t any bedrooms left so I was going to have to sleep on a campbed in the hallway, but luckily some guy got arrested for drawing on £50 with a sharpie.
When I went into the room, Christopher Lee was there and was being super-cryptic about something that was going on in the school, and told me that I had an essay on the symbolism of Vivaldi (yes, the composer) due the next morning.
There was also a drunk guy in the room sleeping but neither of us acknowledged him.
Summary: Phil Lester, a shy, poetic hipster, is talented at a lot of things; social interaction not being one of them. But when his best friend Tom, a popular socialite, wins a competition for a Road Trip, Phil suddenly finds himself meeting a whole new group of friends, including the total stud Dan Howell; a flirt-machine in a leather jacket. But will Phil’s awkwardly interesting personality intrigue Dan, or completely freak him out?
DISCLAIMER: Obviously (and unfortunately) everything I have written is entirely fictional. I am not claiming Phan is real also shit TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHARACTER DEATH I GUESS
“No…” I groaned into the pillow reluctantly, shutting my eyes with a sense of dread at the unwanted company of Esmée occupying the edge of the campbed I lay face-down on. “Come on, Phil…” She sighed sadly, her hand on my shoulder. “Its not going to be that bad. We’re all just going to collectively pay our respects together.” “I don’t wanna pay mine.” I lied grumpily, lifting my head up and glaring at her through my fringe. Of course I wanted to ‘pay my respects.’ Id be prepared to dedicate the rest of my now-pointless life paying all the respect I had the capacity for. Just not in the company of everyone. I planned to do it alone. In the field. As if we were together again, spending another night of the trip doing what we do best. “Phil, please.” Her green eyes turned sad, although I refused to back down. “It’s what Dan would’ve wanted.” Bullshit. My mind muttered grumpily. That’s all I’d been getting for the past few days. ‘It’s what Dan would’ve wanted!’, ‘Do you think that’s what Dan would’ve wanted you to do?’ ‘What about what Dan would’ve wanted?’ They had no clue what ‘Dan would’ve wanted’, regardless of how many years of their childhood and early adulthood they’d spent together. The Dan they knew for the majority of their lives, was only the version of Dan on the surface. The visible side of the moon. Whereas the darkest, most hidden angles and features to Dan I had been so insanely lucky to be introduced to, would’ve proved that whatever ‘Dan on the surface would’ve wanted!’ was miles away from what the Dan I fell in love with would’ve wanted. And they do say it’s what on the inside that counts.
“Aleksey’s Bedroom was one of the last rooms of the palace to be remodelled in 1916. The walls were painted and the windows were covered in a foral material. In the picture above we see Aleksey’s bed next to a large kiot - or ikon stand, which is full of religious images. It was built during this refurbishment. In the picture above the doors to storage space beneath are open to show the things that were kept there - more ikons, candles, books, etc. Before the exile of the Romanovs to Siberia Alekey’s bed had been a campbed. That bed followed him to Tolbolsk and the museum curators brought this one Aleksey used as a small child up from the storerooms to replace it.”