a series of oneshots about your fave!
if you wanna choose your own destiny, you can find me on c.ai under the same username (brimymistake), where i post bots based on these oneshots!
oneshots will also be available on my tumblr (same username again...
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now playing: about you - the 1975
cws: brief mention of drugs (matty and y/n r both sober), very brief mention of masturbation if you look closely word count: 1,111 (🤭)
you and matty broke up in 2019, when the pair of you went off to rehab. he promised he'd come back to you after it, but you rejected him. 'it's hard for us to stay clean around each other' you said 'we know this'.
but now, you were three years clean and, to your knowledge, so was he. and you'd been thinking about him a whole lot lately with the release of his new album. there was on song in particular that you kept playing on repeat. 'about you'. a song which was undeniably (and ironically) about you.
you're lying on your bed in your new york apartment. your bedroom is so you, decorated with your favourite artists and movies and shows. yet it feels so empty nowadays. you've tried writing music about it, but for the first time in your life it doesn't work. maybe exposure therapy will work.
and at that thought, without skipping a beat, you call matty. you don't even know if this is the right number. what if he's changed it?
'if he's changed it, we're not meant to be,'you think, 'but if he hasn't-'
"hello?" he hasn't. he hasn't changed his number. matty answered the phone.
"matty?" you ask, breathlessly.
"yeah, that's me," he says, and you can hear his cocky grin. he hadn't changed, but he'd changed so much at the same time. just like you. then: "who's this?"
who's this. he didn't recognise your voice. he used to be able to pick out your voice so easily, and now he was asking who you were. sure, it had been three years, it would've been easy to forget your voice. but you'd hoped he may have listened to your songs, or your interviews, or maybe even watched your old videos back. clearly not. maybe he'd gotten over you easier than you thought. maybe 'about you' was about someone else entirely. maybe he'd moved on.
you're hit with the urge to put the phone down, but your body betrays you as you speak again.
"it's me. you... you didn't recognise my voice?"
a gasp. small, but detectable. then some shuffling on the other end of the phone. it sounded like he was standing up. then footsteps, pacing. great, now you'd stressed him out.
"y/n?" he asks, now sounding like the wind had been entirely knocked out of him. his voice was a whisper, as if saying your name out loud would make you disappear. "oh my god, it's really you. it's... wow... how are you? are you doing good? i mean, it's been so long, i- i-... this isn't some sick joke, is it? this isn't, like, george with one of those voice changing filters?"
you chuckle. he's as skeptical as ever. you don't blame him. it's been so long, you'd probably think the same if you were in his shoes. but this is real. you'd called him, and he... he seemed excited. it was just the reaction you'd been hoping for.
"no, it's not george. it's really me, matty. and i've been doing good. i heard the album."
silence.
you'd heard the album in which he'd wrote multiple songs about his time with you, love songs, sad songs. all of them wrote with you in mind. even if it was just a brief thought, matty had thought about you at least once in the process of every song on the album.
"you... you have?" he says finally. his pacing seems to have stopped now. you can't see him, but he's leaning against his kitchen island with one hand, the other shaking as he tries his best to keep his phone held to his ear. "what did you think?" he needs your validation, he always did.
"i liked it, matty. i... i really liked it. it was good. everything you do is good. i-in terms of music, of course!" you stumble over your words a little, and both of you knew you weren't just talking in terms of music. despite his nervousness, he can't help but chuckle.
"thank you," he says sincerely, "do you... do you still think about me?" he knew that was a stupid question. you wouldn't be calling him if you didn't think about him. but he needed to hear it.
"yeah. i still think about you. i haven't forgotten about you."
"good. because me neither."
you chuckle breathlessly, now smiling. the nervousness had disappeared from your face, and now the only thing you could feel was happiness. "yeah, that was... that was made abundantly clear."
you hear him run his hand through his hair, something you miss doing so much. those curls that you loved so much. although you can't see his face, you can picture his smile, crooked but beautiful. "do you... do you wanna come over?"
your heart sinks and you feel sick. of course you wanna come over. of course you wanna see him again. it was something you and your fingers had dreamed of for so damn long. but you can't. you're on the other side of the world.
"i... i live in new york now."
matty should be upset by that, knowing you can't just drive to his place. but he smiles. you'd done it. you two had looked at apartments in new york not long before you left each other, but the dream of moving into one together never came true. he was happy for you. you'd done what you wanted to do, even if it was without him, even if leaving him was what it took to bite the bullet and move away.
"new york... so far away from me now. well... do you maybe wanna keep texting? we could meet up soon. in london or new york, your choice, i just- i like this. i like being back in touch."
"yeah. me too."
matty smiles, before having a realisation. you hear him walk into another room, then hear the flicking of paper. "november fourteenth."
"huh?"
"november fourteenth, next year. i'm performing in madison square garden. i'll be in new york from then until the sixteenth. i can- i can come and see you." it was a long time away, just under a year, but you were happy to wait, both of you were very happy to wait.
"i'll see you then."
"yeah?"
"yeah."
"good. and... for now..." matty looks out his window. it's dark. damn time zones. "for now, i've gotta go to bed. but i'll keep in touch, okay?"
"yeah, okay. goodnight, matty."
"goodnight, y/n. i... i love you." the last three words come out hoarse and unsure, as if he's being choked from the inside. nervous. again.
