All it takes, is 1 digit from a phone number to be typed in incorrectly, replaced with another, and you find yourself speaking to the wrong person.
But for her, It couldn't be anyone better.... If he admits to who he is and she believes it. // Thi...
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Back in London.
Somehow this loser had persuaded me to get my arse back to the big city with him. Telling me he had to be at this studio no later than tomorrow and I had no choice in the matter if I was tagging along or not. There was only going to be George there, apparently, which did ease up some of the nerves I was feeling. One at a time was better than all at once for me. My anxiety couldn't face it. Though it did take him constantly nagging and begging the whole night that we stayed at a hotel of his choice, to get me to back down. The persistent shit he is.
I would have invited him to stay at mine for the night, being back in Manchester. But in all honesty, I was too embarrassed to even suggest him staying over. Not only was the place barely a home these days, with only certain living essentials, having to sell a lot of my belongings for rent money, the place had no heating, due to a packed up boiler, which again, I didn't have the funds to fix. As well as barely any shopping in the fridge or cupboards.
I couldn't stand Matty finding out just how broke I was, or bare the thought of him feeling the need to come to my rescue once again. I didn't want pity, or to be judged. And the last thing I wanted was him splashing any more cash out on me. I was already in an uncomfortable predicament having had him wasting money on the train ticket that ended up being pointless yesterday. Although he kept telling me not to worry about it after constantly apologising, telling me it was basically pennies to him.... The guilt still weighed heavy.
Pale Waves blasted through Matty's car as we headed straight for the studio, having quickly ran to his house from the train station to retrieve his car. I was now sat in one of his leather jackets and shades, after I nabbed them from his house quickly. Jokingly telling him they suited me, to which he agreed with. Causing a warmth to spread throughout my body at how lovely and kind this guy genuinely was.
He continued telling me the story of how Dirty Hit Records had recently just signed them, telling me they're a fellow Mancunian band. He sounded so proud and sincere about them, telling me to keep my ears peeled and they're soon to be big.
I loved that we could just chat about anything and everything. Everything this man had to say, I was genuinely interested in. It's weird, it had always been like that for us. We could have a good two hour rant about how we managed to burn a slice of toast and somehow the conversation would never change and naturally flow for us. He seemed to soothe me, make me trust and believe everything he did and say.
"This is us" Matty says, suddenly pulling a swift right round a sharp corner. And I feel he was showing off a little now as he raised his brows at me, smirking at my shocked reaction of being thrown in my seat. But nevertheless, it had me giggling out loud.
Immediately I'm taking in my surroundings. This place looks more like a posh hotel, rather than a music studio. But we were in London, after-all. And not the same, dull, mucky streets of Manchester now.
Before words could even register on my mind to vacate my mouth. That familiar giant I'd only clapped eyes on from the back of a venue room when paying to see this band, was now stood at the entrance door. Arms up above his head, shouting out "finally!" towards the car.
My eyes immediately shoot across to Matty, my anxiety playing havoc with my breathing once again.
Matty's face suddenly softens, silently telling me he gets it. "You'll be fine. He's a big goof, deep down" he tells me. Placing a hand gently on my upper arm.
"Yo! We're late!" George pushed. Adding on to my erratic state of mind. And further panicking me when I spot he's starting to head this way, to us, at my side.
Suddenly the car locks and Matty pushes the button on his door so the electric window shoots down half way.
"Just give us a minute!" He calls out to him, stopping George in his tracks, causing him to swiftly turn back and head back inside, mumbling some annoyance to himself.
My head falls back and I quickly close my eyes, silently arguing with myself. Why was I so awkward. I was aware and afraid I was probably close to Matty just telling me to fuck off from being so difficult at this point. But I'm suddenly caught off guard from his next set off words.
"Do you know what helps me with my anxiety, what helps with my confidence?...."
My eyes shoot open, my focus immediately dropping down to his hand, twiddling a small plastic bag around with some white powder consumed inside.
His eyes snap up from the bag, up to me, giving me a wary, half sided grin... "Wanna try it?" .....
///////////
Please be kind, I'm struggling lately with too many things to mention. I've literally just roughly thought of this chapter on the spot. I figured I'm finding it hard to think up chapters for this book so I'm just gonna let my mind run wild and see where it goes!
Please leave feedback. It pushes me and spurs me on to continue quicker while the ideas are in my head.
