Urgency. | Matthew Healy

c/fifteen. love me

3/4 of the boys decided to go to the studio to drink. They wanted to go out but Jonathan refused, since we were already delayed two days and had no clue how to make up for the time we had wasted in this drama.

Matty and I were left on the couch, both breathing in the tense surrounding we had created, and refusing to speak.

I took a deep breath and decided it wouldn't hurt to have a couple drinks. We wouldn't be on stage until a couple days later, if they decide to accomodate us, that is.

"I'm going to the studio." I tell Matty, getting up from my seat. For some reason, I believe he needs to know what I'm gonna do.

"The boys are drinking." He answered, looking up from his phone to me.

I look at him. "Exactly."

I shake my head and walk towards the studio, opening the door.

"Hey, is it alright if I drink with you lads?" I ask them. They all nodded in unison and handed me their drink of choice.

I smiled as I held a Cuba Libre – a mix of rum and coke with a cut up lime – and grabbed one of the plastic chairs that were in the corner of the studio, placing it next to Adam.

In that moment, Matty came in the studio as well, immediately fixing himself a drink, not a word spilling from his mouth as we all just stared at him. He grabbed a chair as well and sat next to George, who was next to Ross, that sat next to Adam, forming our circle.

George was the first one to break the ice, clearing his throat after taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Being sat here like this reminds me of room 115." He smiles, and so does Matty.

"Quit it, George." He suppressed his laughter in an obvious way.

"Dude, you were banging Jacqueline so hard against those thin hotel walls, I'll never forget her gross screams." He continued, and I just sipped my drink in hopes to get drunk enough to not care.

"George..." Matty warned, noticing my discomfort.

"Oh, it's alright, Valerie. Matty screamed your name when he came that night." Ross shrugged, obviously drunk enough to spill that.

"Ross!" He yelled, his face going red. I'm not quite sure if he was angry or embarassed.

"Is that right?" I looked at Matty, my eyebrows raised, and his face just flushed even more.

He stayed quiet, I'm sure it was because he knew he'd blurt out something stupid.

And then it clicked.

When I went through Matty's notebook, his writings said something about one fifteen:

"That night at the one fifteen, I knew it was you

Because I was wearing my red shirt

And now it smells of your perfume

But it fails to display; I'm hurt "

That night at hotel room 115, I knew it was you because of your perfume... So, was he thinking about someone else?

"Suburbia seems to be a dreamland

When you've got a girl up your sleeve

It's so cool, 'cause I'm in a band

But really I just want her to leave"

He wanted her to leave. Both of those writings were about Jacqueline that night. Was he thinking about me whilst he was with Jacqueline?

It would explain Matty's eagerness to drop Jacqueline and intensely crave me all of a sudden. It would explain why he is currently blushing like a madman, and why he was so upset about Tom.

I lightly smiled. I love George for not having a filter, ever.

I drifted back into reality after my not-so deep analysis and I found myself staring at Matty, who was currently standing up, holding my bright red knickers in his hand.

"Is that what you've been here to do?" He stared at me, anger visible in his face, but his eyes screamed that he was jealous.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." I stand up and attempt to get my panties off of his hand, but he only clings onto them tighter.

The boys all stare in awe.

"I never figured you'd be the kind of girl that uses lace knickers." Adam giggles, slurring his words as an effect of the alcohol he was consuming.

"Yeah, she's just a fucking slut." Matty adds, and everybody's jaw dropped, including mine.

"You have no room to judge me, you're a manwhore yourself." I spat back, angry at his insult.

"Excuse me?" He scoffed.

"Yeah," I continued, before more bullshit came out of his mouth. "You don't get to judge when you were sleeping with somebody else and pretending it was me."

Matty's eyes widened and his eyes softened. "Damn it, George." He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Val. I overstepped." He apologized and looked at me, and I swear I could melt at the sight of his eyes.

"Did you overstep calling me a 'fucking slut' or pretending Jacqueline was me?" I cross my arms, staring at him in curiosity.

He laughed. "I only regret the first part."

I smirk at this, pulling him into a hug.

"Jesus, you are both so fucked up." George adds, finishing his drink before continuing, "How many times have you shagged?"

Both Matty and I's eyes widen, and George only laughs, Adam and Ross following.

"It was bound to happen at any given time." Adam added, shrugging.

"I didn't think it would take Matty so long." Ross added, and Adam nodded at this.

I laughed, and so did Matty.

We continued to drink throughout the night and tell stories, eventually lighting two joints and sharing them between ourselves. George, of course, was the first one to tell stories that should never be told, and no one really minded, except for that one time.

We were laughing at a story Ross had told, about one time his mum found socks below his bed and was so oblivious as to why they were sticky, and then George piped in again.

"Hey Matty, remember when we had to hide weed so we stuffed it in Kate's shoe and we told her it was Dill? The poor girl was so oblivious, she thought it helped clean her shoe." He gestured to Matty, laughing, except Matty didn't laugh at all, in fact, he seemed sad.

"Yeah." He said, taking a hit of the remaining second joint.

Who was Kate?