Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

At a hundred and two

We're drinking beer over a low tune playing on the radio but I pay it no mind.
"Why did you hesitate?" I ask taking a sip.
"What do you mean?"
"Like, why did you hesitate to make the first move" I persist.
"Quite honestly, I didn't know how to" he seemed sincere.
I let out a soft laugh. "Haven't you done this before? Like in the songs you sing?"
"For a person who doesn't get around much, I act like I really do, don't I?" He muses while taking a sip.
Now I'm confused. I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Fuck no, I never fucked in a car. I was lying! I do it on my bed. Lying down. Not trying." he deadpans and we both laugh. "Apathy is an issue for me." He continues. "I'm fuck all about everything, except... well... everything except this" he says, revealing the baggie from his breast pocket for the first time.
"I've seen you reach for that pocket before, but you always just dismiss it."
"Yeah, I'm a bit embarrassed to do it around you, you see. It's like... ah okay fuck it let's talk about it then." He says propping himself up. "It was always gonna happen, with me and drugs. When I was younger, I kinda used to dream about being sedated. I didn't quite like being conscious. Over time I got my hands on the damn thing and very quickly realised it was a mugs game, d'you know what I mean? But it's a part of the sickness, I suppose. This, knowing something is bad for you but not knowing how to remedy it."
I just listened, not knowing how to respond.
He observes at the little pouch between his fingertips. "I don't need it anymore" he says all of a sudden, flipping the bag upside down out the window and emptying its contents. "I've got you now" he turns to me and smiles shyly. I hug him. There's a pit in my stomach but I don't let it be known. I will be his peace, I say. For as long as I can. I get a flashback of the conversation I had with Charlie, all those weeks ago.
'If there ever comes a time where he'd have to choose between you and his vices, what do you think he'd pick?' I hear him say to me. Well, I guess Charlie was wrong. He did pick me.
"Oh fuck!" He says and tears himself off me. "The song I wrote you. I completely forgot!"
"Oh my god, let's hear it"
"Hold this" he says, handing me his beer and reaching into the trunk, flailing his hands around. "It's gotta be here somewhere" and just then, he pulls out an old acoustic guitar. "There we go" he says, beaming.
"No, wait. Shit. Fuckin' hell" he says, struggling to position the guitar comfortably, the strings nearly poking out my eye. "There isn't much room here. Can we sit outside?"
I nod and we step out of the car.
"Okay, so. Keep in mind, I wrote this when I thought you belonged to someone else. I was heartbroken."
I nod again. He starts strumming and then stops abruptly. "No no wait it needs some context. So I was inspired to write this song the night you found me in the tub. It was 1:02 am- I checked. This song is called 102." He says not making eye contact and strums once before immediately stopping again. "It's a bit of a downer, actually" he says, his cheeks turning red now.
"Oh my god Matty just play" I say rolling my eyes with a smile.
"Alright fuck it. Hand me my beer" He takes a big swig and stars strumming for real.

Well, we're here
We're at the common again
Smoked six of the ten fags that I only bought an hour ago

I see a glimpse of us hanging out at the common area behind the library

Said, "Well I, I like the look of your shoes
I like the way that your face looks when I'm arguing with you"

I see us in his car, engulfed in a cloud of smoke. A direct quote from the first time he dropped me home.

And so when, when we all grow old
I hope this song will remind you I'm not half as bad as what you've been told

There had been talks floating around the school about how Matty takes senior girls from neighbouring schools back to his room and does unspeakable things to them. How his expert hands glide over their body. The rumours solidified by his provocative lyrics.

And when I knock at a hundred and two
And I see your pyjamas
I can't stop smiling at you

Him and I in my garden, at 1:02 AM the other night. I wondered if he'd planned that or if it was purely coincidental.

That's why we're here, we're at the common again
I've been pouring my heart out towards your optimistic grin

I see us on the floor of his bedroom, both of us opening up about our past traumas, yet optimistic of the future...

I said, 'Well I, I like the cut of your jib
I like the way that your face looks when you're yapping on about him"

He pauses for a moment. I see the sadness in his eyes, the sorrow in the crack of his voice and I'm transported back to the time I first told him about Charlie in his car.

But on this shirt I found your smell
I just sat there for ages contemplating what to do with myself

The Tom Ford Lost Cherry perfume I've been religiously applying since our first encounter. The way it reminds me of the night we shared cherry bubblegum under the night sky.

I called you up at a hundred and two
We just sat there for ages
Talking about that boy what was getting on to you

And with the final strum of his guitar, the song was over. He takes the cup and downs the whole thing in one gulp.