BAIRN: Matty Healy

101217

October 12th, 2017

The digital alarm clock on my bedside table read 8:05AM, I, however, had no intentions of crawling out of bed until at least half nine—and I wouldn't have gotten out at all, if it weren't for my batshit mother pounding on the front door of my flat. How did she even manage to get inside of the building?

"Mesa, dear. I have brilliant news! Get up and open the door for your mother," I rolled my eyes and reached for my clear-lensed glasses sitting comfortably above my alarm clock. I could practically see her cornflower eyes rolling back into her skull.
Painfully, I willed myself out of bed and let my mum hang around outside whilst I brewed a pot of coffee.

"Hi mum," I mumbled through the door, looking at her through the peephole. She had on a rouge jumper—complimenting the pink in her cheeks beautifully—over a plain white t-shirt, and on her bottom half, she was sporting what I could only assume were her prized True Religion dark-washed denim jeans. My mother was, in fact, cooler than I was.

"Let me in, you devil-child. What's gotten into you?"

I hummed in response and waltzed into the kitchen, flipping a mug over on the counter and filling it, nearly to the brim, with coffee. I loved my mum dearly, but this was not the time for one of her judgemental comment fits or rambles about paint swatches—and if she made it so, coffee would prove to be my best friend. "C'mon, Mae, Matty's in town!" The scorching substance inches from my face somehow found its way to the tiled floor, and all over my favourite fuzzy socks. "Matty is...what?"

Thank God for plastic mugs and stain-removers.

"Mesa? Are you alright in there? Please let me in." Tossing an old t-shirt over the mess, I tugged the striped socks off of my feet and peeked into my bedroom to toss them in the hamper before addressing the situation that was, my biological mother. I approached the front door, quite unenthusiastically, might I add, and leaned against the frame. "I'm letting you in mum, but..no hugs, alright?"
"Open the damned door, Mesa Ember Matlin, or so help me God."

I slid my hand down and traced the brass knob, (it was not brass, but it sure looked like it), "Using 'damned' and 'God' in the same sentence is immoral. Promise you won't hug me and I'll unlock the door." I waited for her response,
"Fine..." She huffed, probably running a freshly manicured hand through her carob brown hair.

"Great," I flicked the lock and swung the door open to reveal a very annoyed mum. That, I didn't let bother me much. "So.." She followed me back into the kitchen, sitting herself down at the dining table as I wiped away the remainder of the coffee from the floor. "Denise, Matty, and Louis are coming to mine for dinner tomorrow night, his band's tour is over and he's finally found the time to fly out from Los Angeles. You should really come! I'm sure they'd all love to see you, especially little Matthew." I shook my head and lifted the mug from the floor, into the sink,

"I don't want to see him, mum."

She crossed one leg over the other and discarded her prescription sunglasses onto the table, "Really? I never would've guessed." She gestured to the coffee-stained tiles centimetres from my bare feet.

  Reyna Matlin sighed, receiving stern daggers from me; her daughter, the one she was supposed to side with. But, of course, Matty was her favourite child (aside from not being her child), and he manipulated her, just like he had done to me. "Mae..." She began, pressing her lips together in a straight line, "you know he had to go, love, his music was taking off. Matty never meant to harm you, you know that."
   My mother had a habit of telling me what she wanted me to know, but instead of subtle mentions, she assumed that I, like her, had the mindset of a homesick preteen.