Chocolate ♡ The 1975/One Direction/5 Seconds of Summer

Chapter Eight

I put my phone back into my pocket.

“Louis, Nonna, Matty’s in the hospital.”

Nonna stands up as quickly as she can. “I guess I’m going to have to go in that death machine, huh?”

“Nonna.” I groan. “It’s perfectly safe. It’s been tested and everything.”

“I’ll do anything for my Matty.”

-

It had been 3 hours, and I was sitting next to Matty’s hospital bed.

He’s in a medically-induced coma. After he left, he overdosed. The doctors told us it was cocaine.

That’s the problem with Matty. He tells everyone that he’s strong, and we shouldn’t be obsessed with him, we should focus on ourselves. When things get bad, he turns to the only thing that can give him a short burst of happiness and takes him away from reality for a while.

The 1975 have had to stop their tour, and the other boys have postponed their shows until they figure out what is going on.

Although Matty will be fine, I just can’t help but figure out why he did this to himself.

There’s only one solution – Harper.

He was distraught after her phone call. She simply can’t sort out her feelings.

I’m not blaming her – I never would. Matty was the one who did this to himself.

Sure, In his head it’s her fault. But he loves Harper. And no matter how many girls he fucks, his mind will always go back to Harper.

And from the short time I have known Ash, I know he doesn’t love Harper. He may love her as a friend, but he is always telling me about the girl called Holly back in Australia.

They were both lonely. And I’m not judging either of them. I understand what it’s like. Harper and I went clubbing every weekend, and the alcohol numbed the pain for a while.

How could I ignore Matty? He was hurting so bad, and I wasn’t even there.

I partly blame myself. I wasn’t in his life for two years. I could’ve made more of an effort.

I sob quietly, my hand gripping onto his. I rest my forehead on the back of his hand.

“Please, Matty. We need to see that you’re alright…please.”

Suddenly, I can’t help it. The tears rush down my face as I sob into Matty’s hand. All the emotions I’ve been holding for two years rush out as I see my older brother, the fun, playful brother I love, in the weakest state I’ve ever seen him. His eyes have dark bags under them, and his face is as pale as a ghost.

I hear him cough slightly, and his other hand rests on the top of my head. “God, Steph. Don’t fucking cry. I’m not dead.”

I look up at him, smiling a little, as I hug him as tight as he can bear.

“Fuck you, Matty. Never do that shit again.”

“I’m sorry.” He wipes away my tears. “I just – I never want to feel. That’s the problem with me. But I swear to God, I’m never doing it again. I honestly thought I was dying. It was the best and worst feeling I have ever experienced. And, I’d never get to have cake again in my life.”

I shake my head. “I think the more important thing here is that you’d never make music again.”

“Fuck music and fuck cakes. It would be shit that I’d never get to see Harper, Louis, George or Nonna again. But the most important thing is, I’d never be able to be your big brother. I’d never be able to look after you, walk you down the aisle. I’m a shitty brother and I am so sorry for that.”

I hear a soft “Matty…” at the door, and I turn to see a puffy-faced Harper, with her jacket pulled around her tightly.