Omg! A Matty Healy Fanfic

// C H A P T E R N I N E //

I suddenly began to feel lost, lost in not only my own thoughts...but in direction of my life. I stopped, standing in the middle of the crowded room. Everyone around me seemed to be dancing and having a good time, and whether they were able to hold their highs or drunkenness or not, they still were with people. People they knew, people who they could feel this alive with...

If I were back home and feeling the way I felt tonight, alone, paranoid, and scared...I'd have someone who actually cared about me to hug. I'd have someone to make me laugh, smile, and feel okay. I didn't know a single person in the room, not one. I continued to walk, not knowing where to even begin to search for Matty.

I wandered up the stairs, hoping and desperately praying that the room Matty and I were in wasn't now occupied. The stairs seemed to go on forever and ever, I felt weak...is it because I'm high, or because I feel like shit?

I stopped midway up, holding onto my head as I felt myself swooshing with every step. I didn't want to get the idea that I actually could float, as I felt like I was...stop over thinking, stop over thinking...

"You alright?" I jumped, turning around. It was a girl.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I nodded.

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking at me through truly sympathetic eyes.

I couldn't believe someone actually stopped to take the time to ask me if I was okay. I nodded, continuing up the stairs, "I'm alright, thank you."

She watched me as I left, I had no interest in meeting anymore people, and if I told her I wasn't okay, I'd end up having to talk to her I'm sure. I took my jacket back off, all I wanted to do was lay on that bed. I passed up the doors I surprisingly remembered led to the occupied bedrooms. Then slowly opened the door to the one we were last in, peeking in.

Matty was there, his head buried into his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed...he looked the worst a person could possibly look...well, an attractive person I mean.

"Matty?" I asked, unsure if it was okay to come in or not.

He looked up slowly, his eyes red as fire, and glossy.

"Oh hey," he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, sniffling and wiping his nose, "come in if you want."

My heart began to race as I realized he'd been crying...or really really high...but no...he was crying for sure. I came in and shut the door behind me carefully, standing next to it...hesitant on taking any steps toward him...I didn't know how to handle it.

"Are..." I watched him wipe his face, "are...you okay?" I asked.

"I'm cool." He shrugged.

I looked around, seeing baggies sprawled along the bedside table beside him.

"You don't seem like it." I said, slowly walking over to the bed and looking down at him.

He sighed, staring at the wall, "why do you think people hurt one another?"

"What do you mean?" I sat down beside him, hugging my jacket against my chest.

"Exactly what I said."

I thought for a moment, "maybe they don't mean to, at least not always...people can't control the way they make other people feel. They can try...but...for the most part, they can't."

He nodded and looked at me, I looked at him too, "where is this coming from?" I asked.

He shrugged, with a sense of hopelessness, "I'm a mess."