You'll Regret This (Matty Healy)

4

Following Dylan and Nicki into our flat, I couldn't help but think about Matty. I don't know what it is about him, but I feel like I need to know everything there is to know. I've met him twice, maybe for 20 minutes all up, yet I'm so intrigued by him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to see him again tonight.

"So what's the deal with Matty?" Nicki asks excitedly.

"What do you mean? There's no deal..."

"He couldn't keep his eyes off you the whole time we sat down," she states.

"Really? I didn't notice," I lie. I don't want to let Nicki know I'm thinking the way I am. This is not who I am anymore. I do not let myself think about guys let alone agree to go out with them.

"Stop lying! I can read you like a book. I heard you agree to go for drinks with him," she accuses, while giggling.

"FRIENDLY drinks," I state clearly.

"Sure Elle. No one's friends with boys who look like that."
"Sod off," I brush her comment off, inwardly agreeing with what she said.

"I'm so happy you're going out with him," she gushes.

"Yeah whatevs," I begin to walk to my room, only to hear her following me, rushing over to my closet.

"What are you going to wear?!" she blurts out while sorting through my clothes, looking at them with distaste, "my god, you'll have to borrow something of mine."

"Absolutely not. Not a chance in hell," I crush her suggestion immediately.

"Fine fine," she holds her hands up in surrender, "go on a date looking like the grim reaper for all I care..."

"It's not a date!"

Time flew by and before I knew it I was sat at a booth in a run down bar, waiting for Matty. Odd looks were sent my way from quite a few people. It was hard to miss the perverted stares from the middle-aged men. I was wearing jeans, an old t-shirt and my beat up boots. My usual look. The only difference was I actually put in the effort to brush my long dark hair.

Thirty minutes passed and Matty had still not shown up. A waitress slowly approached my table.

"Can I get you a drink honey?" she asks politely.

"Uh, yeah. Could I get a vodka? Straight please." She gave me a bewildered look.

"Sure thing," she smiled before backing away and turning back towards the bar. Panic started to slowly seep into my body as I considered Matty might have stood me up. He's thirty-five minutes late. With that thought circling my head I stood up and made my way to the bathroom quickly, locking the door behind me. I hurriedly opened my purse, looking for what I needed so badly. Emptying a small amount of my favourite white powder onto the basin, I rolled a note up snorting the line. Looking at myself in the mirror with self-loathe, I adjusted my shirt and made my way back out to the bar. Sitting back in the booth, I noticed Matty was now forty-five minutes late. The waitress made her way over to the booth and placed my drink down as I thanked her. Just as I took a sip and felt that burn I love so much, the bar's door opened, in walking a rushed Matty. His eyes skimmed the bar and once he found me he let out a sigh of relief.

"I am so, so sorry I'm late Elle," he apologises as he walks towards the booth.

"No worries," I reply, feeling slightly hazy.

"Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you?" he asks with a determined tone to his voice.

"I have a drink, I'm fine," I turn his offer down.

"I'll buy your next one, no arguing," he warns.

"Fine."

Matty goes to the bar to order himself a drink. I take the opportunity to take in what he's wearing: black jeans with rips in both the knees, a white t-shirt that drapes off his body and boots. He looks good. He seems to always look amazing. He makes his way back to the table with a glass of wine and a bowl of pretzels.

"I just want to say sorry for being late once more. I feel terrible. I'm not usually late. The guys and I were in a meeting with our manager and it took longer than expected," he rambled on.

"Manager?" I ask.

"Yeah, for my band. George, Adam, Ross and myself are in a band."

"That's cool. What's the name of your band?" I wondered.

"The 1975."

"Weird. I like that."

"I like you," he shot back, looking at me intently.
"So what's your role in the band?" I ignored his comment, hoping he wouldn't notice my attempt to completely change topic. He shook his head and smiled, seeming to almost expect me to react the way I did.

"I'm the singer. I play the guitar and keys too. I write all the lyrics," he explains.

"You'll have to play one of your songs for me next time I see you," I said without thinking.

"So there will be a next time?" He quirked an eyebrow, smirking at me.

"Uh-I-I didn-" I began, slightly panicking.

"Relax babe. I was kidding. But there will be a next time if I have any say in it."

We spoke for a while about his band, his friends, his favourite movies, his favourite bands, his favourite books and a little about his brother. I avoided his questions every time he asked about me. I didn't want to scare him off.

"So how old's your brother?" I asked.

"Look Elle, I know what you're doing," he chuckled, "now do correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe we're here so I can get to know you. Tell me something about yourself."

"I don't have anything to sa-," I started but was cut off.

"That's not true. Everyone has a story. Tell me yours." he encouraged.

I couldn't help but feel like I could trust him, which is ridiculous seeing as I've known him for 2 days. I decided to tell him what was on my mind.

"The truth is Matty, I'm scared to tell you about myself."

"What you scared for babe?"

"I'm messed up. If you knew what I was really like, you wouldn't be sat here with me."

"Try me."

"Well I-" I began but quickly closed my mouth. No. This is a huge mistake. I cannot let him in. Not only would it scare him off, it would re-open old wounds of mine. I've done so well busying myself with drugs, sex and sleep to get my mind off my past. I'm not about to remind myself of everything I've blocked from my mind for months, just so a stranger can get to know me. "I have to go."

"What? No Elle. Don't go. I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to." He rushed his words.

"Goodbye Matt," I rushed out of the booth and walked straight out the bar, hearing Matty call for me, but I continued walking. I walked for what seemed like forever until I finally arrived home. I quietly snuck in and went directly to my room, collapsing onto my mattress. Closing my eyes, I slowly sighed, hating myself for how I acted tonight. But it was either keep myself closed off and not get hurt, or open myself up to Matty and risk the heartbreak I'm still trying to recover from.