The Boy from Berkshire (A danisnotonfire fanfic)

Everyone wants to see there favourite artist or band play there favourite album in complete, well I did, 2011, Muse, the Origins of Symmetry. But my so-called-friends decided to ditch me. Then I find Dan howell, and there is a connection, no not love, rather friendship.


1. Arriving, and then not leaving

Chapter 1


I felt the car screech to a  halt me and my friend Roxanne jumped out the car, the doors flung open in sync, we laughed at the door’s exactness, as I slammed the car door shut with a loud bang. A trail of people followed from the back seat, four to be exact, Stacy, Noa, Joe and Steve. Joe and Roxanne were going going out, and everyone apart from Roxy knew Joe would propose here, at the one and only Redding festival. 


The car boot swung open and everyone yanked tents, sleeping bags, bags, food anything they could get there hands on really, only I was the only one to get my things out. “Syrie,” Roxanne placed her hand on my shoulder, “go find a place to set up camp, preferably near the stage.” she shooed me away and I started walking. “Okay!” I shouted over my shoulder. 


I was the only who wanted to be here, the other’s listen to Capital London, so I laughed until I heard an engine rear up behind me. I spun around in confusion and saw Roxanne wave and jump in the car.  As it sped away, I dropped my belongings and ran after it, shouting, “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” but they left me trailing in the dirt and exhaust fumes. 


I coughed violently, trying to get my breath back, saying I was unfit was an understatement, I could hardly make it up a flight of stairs, let alone run after a car. I heard the soft sound of some crappy song fade away into the distance. I walked back to my bags, still trying to get my breath back, it was like having to gulp in the entire atmosphere to please my lungs. I dropped down and picked up my tent sleeping bag and some food I managed to grab and began walking to the stage and grassy area where you could camp.


I trudged around the park, the cooking pot’s and other utensils clinking together at every step, the bag seemed to only gain weight, and pull me down. It felt like I was carrying a ton of brick’s on my back. I suddenly felt the bag bump particularly harshly into my back, it sent a sharp sensation through my body. Not trusting my so called friends to have left my possessions in the bag. I opened it and I would say I was surprised, but quite frankly I wasn’t.


“Well, this gives a whole new meaning to ‘Bag of bricks’” I muttered to myself, emptying the bag, coughing as the bricks started tumbling out leaving a cloud of auburn dust as the bricks clashed with the rock hard, dry August earth that was patched with grass. “You are the worst,” I hissed, “fucking friends ever!”


I carried on walking, finally getting to what you might refer to as ‘civilisation’, it was more like a bunch of twenty year old guys, messing about, in loose baggy jeans with rips and holes in them.  I grimaced in disgust as two men had a water fight, with can’s of beer. More like a beer fight then I guess. Several girls sat in ripped guys arms, other’s kissing. 


You have no idea how happy I was when I saw to boys, about my age, twenty-one, slim fitting black jeans and black jumpers, there was a stereo situated next to them blasting Muse, the Origins of Symmetry. “Yes!” I was so glad. Being the person I am, I walked up to them with total confidence. “Growing like a new born,” I broke into the song as I was close enough for them to hear me. One of them swivelled around, he looked at me quickly and grinned. “Hello.” his voice was, proper.

“Berkshire?” I asked, assuming this was where he was from.

“Yeah. How did you know?” he was in a state of alarm.

“No, I am not that stalker who sends you text messages before you go to bed.” I joked, “I actually come from Berkshire, well I was born there, then I moved to North West London. But my parent’s have pretty strong Berkshire accent.”

He nodded, half understanding the blur of words I had just produced. “So who are you?”

“Syrie.” I answered, not letting him finish his sentence.

“And why are you here?” he continued sourly.

“Me? Oh well that is a long story. Do you mean why am I at Redding Festival? Then it is because I want to watch people live, and see Muse play the entire Origins of Symmetry. If you mean walking up to you and striking conversation, that is a very long story.”


He sat down, gesturing to a deck chair, “I’m all ears.”

I sat down, and just as I was about to begin talking he said, “But, slowly this time. Oh, and can Phil film you? I need something to put on youtube today. Two weeks over due, I am so lazy.”

I nodded hazily, “Youtuber, huh?” my mind elsewhere, and no not lost in his eyes. I had a habit of not falling head over heels in love. I began, his friends camera trained on me and the guy next to me.

“Three, two, one, action!” the red recording light began blinking persistently.

“Okay,” the guy said, “I usually begin my video’s with ‘Hello Internet’.”

I nodded, “Hello Internet!” we said out of time, I laughed, and so did he. 

He began speaking, "This is..." he began, gesturing at me, urging me to speak my name in front of possible thousands, "Syrie." I grinned.

"And we have just come across her, all alone." I chuckled slightly, looking at him.

"Care to share?" he asked politely.

I nodded, "Okay then. But has anyone told you, you are the human version of 'Whinnie the Pooh'?"

He grumbled quietly to himself, crossing his arms like a child in deep frustration  the look on his face was perfect, it was hilarious.

"So, my long," I told the camera, remembering to stretch 'long'. "Story." and I began.

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