ephemeral // matty healy

norm!

The trio settled on a cozy bar a short jaunt from the studio. It wasn't as bad as Blair made it out to be in her mind, but she thought it was "worse than Cheers."

They sat on sticky leather in the booth that hid them from the rest of the bar. George had ordered the first round of lagers. Instead of arguing for something less heavy, she smiled and sipped out of the glass with the others. Matty groaned in relief the first moment the beer passed his lips.

"God, I needed this," he said over the music. There were other people in the booths around them, but the classic American rock drowned out many side conversations. The three had to lean into the table to hear one another.

"So how is the rest of the album?" Blair asked into her drink. The boys looked at each other with twisted looks. "What is it a touchy subject?"

George snorted and hooked a thumb toward Matty. "Ask this twat."

She glanced at his hanging head and decided it would be best not to pry. Blair didn't expect to get so much information out of him after one drink.

"It's like," he took another sip. "Every time I think something is perfect, or 'well done' as George thinks I should start saying, I rip it apart."

"I know what you mean." She thought about the hours spent researching content for the video.

"I think things will be better with other sounds and then after I've beaten that element to death, I find it rustling in my head again."

George rolled his eyes. Even though it was dark, Blair still saw his pettiness. Neither of them acknowledged it as Matty continued on about how he felt like extending the album's deadline was the only option left.

"At least you've got The Birthday Party sorted out. I'm sure that your fans will enjoy it and the video." Blair reached over and placed a hand from her glass on Matty's arm. Her fingers were cold from holding the lager, but he didn't mind. He didn't feel the chill as he held onto her eye contact carefully. Matty looked over her face carefully and smiled.

"Yeah, we're really excited about that, aren't we?" George shoved his friend's shoulder, snapping him back into the conversation.

"Totally."

Blair said she would buy the next round, but George insisted on covering it. "Really, it's my treat. Matty, can I see your wallet?"

He pulled out a crumpled leather lump from his back pocket. George shuffled around and pulled out two tenners. "Cheers, mate," he said as he tossed it back onto the tabletop. Matty just jutted his jaw out to the side for a moment before shoving the wallet back into his jeans.

"Alright, so why don't you tell me about New York?" Matty inquired. "I feel like I haven't heard that much about it."

"It was alright. School was hellish at times, rent was hellish all the time. What would you like to know?" Blair felt a bitter taste rising in her throat and debated whether it was her drink. She swallowed but felt the neck of her shirt becoming tighter.

"What did you do there?" George joined the table again, placing the beers on the table and then tossing some change in Matty's direction. Blair told them about the good opportunities she had at school, working with her professors as well as other talented students. She tried staying humble about some of her class projects, but the boys found themselves exchanging glances as if to say "Can you believe this girl?" They remained enthralled in her stories of America, even when she took a break to buy a round of chips for the table.

"But the craziest thing about New York?" she said to no one in particular. She examined a chip in the dim light. "Fries. I never got used to that. And god forbid you slip up in front of a food vendor."

"'You a Brit?'" Matty imitated his best American accent, which earned a laugh from Blair.

George quipped, "The horror."

The sky was blanketed with a thick layer of dark clouds when they left. They said their goodbyes just outside the door. George waved as he turned to stride his way down the sidewalk. His breath plumed up into the air when he got further away from the bar. Blair turned back to see Matty, who was desperately trying to keep eye contact with her.

"Well, I have to get home. Stella's probably wondering where I am." She shrugged her hands into her pockets and smiled sincerely.  "Thanks for inviting me."

She turned on her heel and started to plod down the street, but Matty quickly joined her side.

"Taking the train?" he asked. Blair nodded. "Me too, I'll go with you."

Their steps fell in time: right, left, right, left. They didn't speak as much on the train, and Blair realized that she was able to talk to Matty a lot easier when there was a buffer between them. Having someone like George or Ronan in their midst helped because it didn't leave her alone with the thoughts of the past. She noticed Matty was reading and re-reading an advertisement for car insurance on the wall of the train and thought that he might be feeling the same.

He had apologized, but her thoughts still meandered to a time where she loathed Matty for trying to control her life.

"Do you still smoke?" he asked her over the screeching brakes on the train.

"Not as much," she said. "I know, I know. 'New York did a number on you.'" She mocked Matty's Northern accent. He laughed a bit, then gently hooked his hand in the crook of her arm. At the next stop, he escorted her to the sidewalk again, the cool, crisp air enveloping them once again.

"Let's walk the rest of the way."

He lit a tight joint and placed it between his lips. Nervously, Blair took the spliff from his mouth and took a drag. The familiar warmth washed over her like a summer shower - then she coughed profusely.

"It's been a while," she admitted, handing it back to Matty. They walked about four blocks, giggling the whole way as they passed the joint between their greedy hands. Blair pulled Matty into the alley beside her flat, so they could quickly finish the cigarette before she stepped inside.

"Stella's not a fan of the smell," she said, taking a final inhale. She didn't notice that her hair had tumbled into her face, but Matty carefully tucked her grey streak behind her ear. His hand lingered for a moment too long; her breath hitched when his fingertips brushed against her cheek and jaw.

"I like your hair," he said. She reached over and placed the joint on his lips.

"Thanks," she breathed. "They showed up one particularly stressful semester and never left. I tried dying them but I felt bad covering them up. It's a nice little frame that reminds me that I was able to get through that tougher time."

"Ah, it's a symbol."

"Totally." Blair watched his boots stomp out the butt into the sidewalk. He looked at her again, then looked at her hair.

"It looks really nice," he said. "Actually, I like them a lot more now."

"Thank you," she smiled. His gaze flitted to her lips for a moment. Blair blinked her eyes slowly, they were so dry. She broke the silence that hung in the alley. "Tonight was very fun. I didn't think I could have that much fun on a weekday."

Matty cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "You'd be surprised."