// Menswear //

Chapter 1

It had been a dreary, boring Thursday. I had wound up practically on my own in a pub in the centre of London, drinking cider, one after another after another, trying to get myself into a better mood.

I'd always been quite a cut off, shy, quiet person. My life shamefully revolves around music and I'd always rather sit on my own with my earphones in, listening to music, getting into my own zone, but today was different. I wanted to get out, but the only friends I have refused as they had all made plans a few weeks before without inviting me; hense how I ended up here.

I was okay though. I was quite enjoying my own company, with the mellow, old fashioned music playing in the background.

'Are you alright there, petal?' My eyes shot up at the man at the bar.

'Sorry, are you okay there?' I felt a tapping on my shoulder and the barman's eyes flickered back and forth between me and the gentleman behind me.

I could tell he was a man because his voice was deep and musty, his accent was calming, sounded like a sweet cross between a hint of black american and posh Mancunian.

I picked up my drink and turned my head to the side as I felt his hand rest on my shoulder.

'Petal?'

I caught a glimpse of him.

He was a relatively short lad, dressed in a baggy black shirt, leather jacket, skinny jeans that had a gap between his legs, and black shoes. His hair was cut in a Mohawk kind of shape, with both sides shaved, but had it messily pushed back.

He looked perfect.

'Uh....uh....yeah....sorry...excuse me' I mumbled.

As I caught a better sight of him I could see his eyes were lined with red, and were slightly bloodshot. I also noticed he was holding a guitar case behind one of his shoulders. He edged himself next to me and sat down by the bar.

He nodded at the bar man and said 'the usual please, mate.' He then proceeded to talking to me.

'Sorry if I caught you by surprise'. He looked at me with a serious face.

'Oh, it's no worries. I was just in my own silly little zone, it's not a problem.'

He nodded and grabbed the drink that the barman put down before him.

I pointed at the guitar case which was still on his shoulder and asked 'like music, do ya?' He slid the case off his shoulder and sat it down between us two.

'Well, yeah actually. I'm in a band.'

I wasn't sure what to say when he said this, I didn't know whether to feel bad for not recognising him.

'Oh wow, that's really cool. I'd love to be in a band. Are you guys, big?'

His head swayed left to right and he said 'well, I mean, I wouldn't say we're

all that big but, some of our songs are pretty big.' I nodded while finishing a sip of my drink. But then it hit me.

The black outfit, the Mohawk hair, the precious, sweet accent? It was Matty. It was Matt Healey from the 1975. It was, wasn't it? I can't have been dreaming. Could I? Maybe the cider had just gone straight to my head and I was just skipping to conclusions. How could I not have realised this before? How stupid could I have been! I'd noticed everything about him but was too drunk to fully see and realise who he was. I must have sat there for about 5 minutes trying to figure out if it was him or not before he grabbed my shoulder and asked if I was okay, again.

My eyes slowly rolled up to meet his and I felt like such a fool.

'I....I'm so sorry. Are you, matty?'

He picked up his drink and did a sweet little laugh.

'Matty who?' He asked.

'Matty...Matthew Healey..... The 1975.... It's really you?' His eyebrow raised at me as he sipped his drink before coming out with 'yea, that's me.'

It was matty. He was sat right next to him. Before I could say anything else his eyes looked to the left of me and he did a sort of 'come here' nod. I shook my head around before turning my body and to my surprise, it was George Daniel. When I looked at him he had one hand ruffling his hair and the other was pointing in mine and Matty's direction.

'George mate, come here.'

And before i new it I had 2 of 4 of the 1975 band members right before me.

'George, this is.......' Matty looked at me and widened his eyes. I giggled. How foolish was I for not telling him my

name?

'Denise.' I shot my eyes back and forth between the two boys. Matty smiled at me.

George leaned forward, breaking the stare between me and Matt, he smiled and said 'hello Denise' before putting his hand out towards me. I had prepared myself for a hug, but a handshake will do.

To be continued...