D E S I D E R A T A [ g.d ] ON HOLD

09

I really have nothing to say here, but to enjoy this chapter...

...and this gif of George ;)

P.S. I took this chapter down because I had to edit it, but now it's just the way I want it to be :)

**

"Thank you, London!!! You have been amazing once again!" Matty screamed into microphone, turning around to take a selfie with the roaring crowd that was cramped up in the front. He grinned at his front camera and snapped a picture. "Thank you!" He screamed once again, grabbing his button shirt from the ground and running after Adam, Ross and George backstage.

When they walked in the backstage room, George jumped on the small couch, putting his legs on the table and crossing them. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and grinned at Ross who joined him on the couch and George threw his arms around him jokingly. "Bugger," Ross laughed as he wiggled out of George's embrace, flipping him off and throwing his sweaty shirt at Adam.

"Are we going out later?" Adam asked, putting Ross' shirt on the ground, sitting on the fold out chair and stifling a yawn. He didn't care that was sweaty and that his skin clung to the back of the chair. He was sleepy and exhausted.

George shrugged, getting up and throwing a towel around his neck as he grabbed a can of beer from the mini fridge. "I don't think so." Adam yawned once again, refusing the beer from George as he folded his arms on his chest and crossed his legs. "I had enough of it last week."

Somewhat later after they shared a spliff and Matty finished his bottle of wine, they walked out in the cold to greet their fans. After giving countless hugs and signing stuff – from vinyl to breasts – they were ushered in the van as their driver Randy drove them back to Matty's house. Adam fell asleep the moment the van started rolling down the street as the rest of guys kept busy by looking either in their phone or through the window.

Matty had his head hung down as he wrote some new lyrics in his notebook he always carried with him while Ross talked hushed with Randy about new Coldplay song that was apparently the musical sensation of the century. George was just silent, feeling uncomfortable in his seat because he had no space for his legs.

"George," Matty whispered and straightened in his seat, closing the notebook and putting it away in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Yea?"

"Who's Nellie?" Matty asked and George tensed, his heart skipping a beat.

"What do you mean?" George whispered back, looking through the window, pretending that flashes of London streets were something admirable.

But Matty didn't let go. "Is it some chick?" He nudged George in the ribs. "Come on, tell me because you won't be able to hide her from me for too long," Matty sang.

"Sod off," George replied and leaned to the front, asking Randy to turn up some music, ignoring his best friend before looking back at him. "There is no Nellie," he muttered after Randy settled for some seventies tunes. Not really George's favourite but it was better than nothing. Matty sat back into his seat, not asking further but not too convinced in George's words.

George wished he believed in that himself.

**

George stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned in the wire chair on the balcony. It was surprisingly very sunny day for London and George found comfort in the shade of Matty's huge plants. Maybe buying them wasn't one of Matty's idiotic moves. George was wearing a thin, white t-shirt, a pair of boxer shorts and his growing hair was tied up in a bun on top of his head.