phil lester

everything was perfect.

only a few months ago, i'd made the bold decision to move in with dan howell. we moved into a cozy apartment in london, decorating it to match our personalities. the posters on the wall and the action figures on the bookshelf made me feel at home, and i loved everything about it. little did we know, that was the beginning of something incredible.

since then, life had been better than i could've ever imagined. our subscriber count skyrocketed, and we had fans all around the world. we were practically famous, and we got to make money doing something we loved. never in my wildest dreams would i have thought that i could be an internet sensation, yet here i am. i'm living the perfect life, and the best part? i got to do it with my best friend by my side.

with the fame came the fans. the phandom was always there to support us, and we were grateful for each and every one of them. while our fan's loyalty did make me and dan a bit scared at times, we did our best to remain thankful. they're faithful to us, even when we make plenty of mistakes, and that's more than we could ever ask for.

when there's fans, there's bound to be some haters. people who comment on all of our videos, criticizing our editing techniques or the way we look. the worst were the people who told us to kill ourselves, the ones who took it a step too far. we try our best to overlook them, but it's not always easy.

we now had fan accounts dedicated to us on all platforms of social media. it was hilarious really, to see thousands of people make accounts worshipping two random british kids that made videos. now i always hesitate whenever i post a picture or a tweet, the knowledge that thousands of people are inevitably going to judge my every move still fills me with dread.

even when we were walking to simple places like the grocery store, fans would stop and ask for an autograph or picture. it was usually younger people, as adults didn't really know who we were. it was almost like an inside joke between us and the fans—the older people surrounding us would look at us in confusion, trying to figure out why anyone would ask for our autograph.

my inbox was now constantly filled with sponsorship deals and fans typing in all caps. i've tried to make it a habit where once a week dan and i sit down in the living room and attempt to go through all our emails. of course we can't read every single email sent to us, but we certainly do try.

that's what we were doing now. the tv played some random cartoon on mute while we were sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through our emails. most people spend their sunday nights preparing for their job the next morning, but i was glad to say this was considered as work for me.

occasionally dan would turn his laptop to show me one of his many emails, most which included either a meme, a fan professing their undying love for us, or both. we'd have a good laugh at their hysteria, especially because most of them are half our age. still, we always make an effort to respond to our fans, but lately it's become impossible with the 1000+ emails clogging our inbox.

i turn to dan, who's engulfed in a baggy hoodie and pajama pants. most of his body is covered with a blanket, his head poking out at the top. other than the sound of us typing and scrolling, the only other noise in the room is him, softly drumming his fingers against his laptop as he reads. i'm wearing a similar outfit, but instead of all black, like dan, i was practically drowning in bright colors. another great thing about our job—there's no dress code.

"what about this?" dan would ask anytime he came across a sponsor. we know our fans despise ads, but we still need to make money to buy necessities, like cereal. and even when we did do ads, we always attempt to make them somewhat entertaining.

i open a new tab, making a list of potential sponsors and underlining the ones that we were highly interested in. this was a process we always did, and eventually we'd weed out a few of them and respond to the others.

as i scrolled through the thousands of emails i still had left, i stumbled upon one that looked different than the others, more professional. it was from a lady called 'carol,' and as I read through, it definitely caught my attention.

to: philip lester ([email protected])
subject: management

dear mr. lester,

i'm a representative from uktalent, a management company based in the united kingdom. my company and i have seen the potential of the youtube industry, particularly noticing you and your colleague dan howell's videos, and we believe you two have a bright future ahead of you. if you're interested, my company is looking to sign you to a manager. we could help with emails, business deals, tours, and similar things. we have seen your talents, and personally, i really believe you two are going places. with a manager we could help uncap your potential and make you even bigger stars than you currently are.

more details are enclosed, and i certainly hope you consider signing with our agency.

sincerely,
carol reeves
uktalent representative

"dan," i say, scooting closer and facing my laptop towards him. "look at this."

after quickly scanning the email he looks up at me, uncertainty etched across his face. "i mean... it's definitely interesting," he mumbles, burying himself even further under the blanket.

"but just think about it," i say, confused as to why he's not immediately thrilled at this opportunity. "no more nights like this, having to respond to all these emails. we can get someone else to do it! and look here,' i begin to recite the email, 'even bigger stars than you currently are."

he looks at me with doubt, and i practically pounce on him from excitement. "why aren't you excited?" i ask.

"i-i don't know phil... a manager? really?"

i grip my laptop tightly, shaking it a bit as i speak. "we could get someone else to do our emails! isn't that incredible?"

his fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket as he mutters, "it definitely sounds like something."

"dannn," i say, dragging out his name.

"phil," he begins, turning so we're eye to eye. "we've gotten this far without a manager, and we're doing great. do we really need to pay someone to do what we've been able to do for years?"

"will you at least think about it?" i plead. honestly, i was getting tired of the constant notifications and hate emails. if we could get someone else to deal with those, of course i'll let them.

he gazes at me, his lips pursed.

i grab onto his arm, practically begging. "look, we can set up a meeting. we can meet the people, see what they're like, and what they have to offer. if you still don't want to sign with them i'll drop it, and we'll never speak of it again."

after he doesn't answer, i tilt my head and whisper, "please?"

he seems to consider it before finally sighing and nodding. "fine, i guess we can have one meeting."

i give him a cheeky smile, throwing my arms around him. "thank you."

he rolls his eyes at me and grins. "anything for you, you spork."

i finish reading the rest of the email and look over the details thoroughly, finally responding to carol. she replies instantly, almost like she was expecting our response. we agree to have a meeting on wednesday, three days from today.

once we've responded to an impressive amount of emails, dan turns to me with a serious expression on his face.

"pizza?"

a smile takes over my face, and i'm already dialing the pizza parlor nearby before he can say any more. "i thought you'd never ask."