4: Never Again

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The second Matty steps foot inside of Nick Grimshaw's overstuffed house, he instantly regrets allowing George to bully him into this. He sends George a pleading look that is succinctly ignored as George greets Grimmy fondly, leaving Matty hovering in the doorway after gracing Nick with a halfhearted wave.

His gaze is quickly drawn to the couch he can spy Adam and Ross sitting on in the main room. Matty briefly debates heading in their direction simply to alleviate the awkwardness that's pressing around him like a low hanging cloud, but they seem to be engaged in a heated discussion concerning fuck knows what, and Matty isn't really in the mood for talking to anyone that isn't George just yet.

So in an effort to derail George's grand plans involving him becoming a socialite instead of the hermit he has been posing as for the past week, Matty swipes an entire bottle of some kind of wine from the kitchen counter before heading outside, going unnoticed by George who is now otherwise distracted.

Secreting himself in the back corner of the patio that seems relatively uninhabited, Matty pulls his pack of cigarettes out of his - George's jacket pocket, lighting the stick quickly before placing the end of it in his mouth. He sucks idly on the smoke as he observes the other party goers out of the corner of his eye.

Matty roughly unscrews the cap off the wine that's much fancier than the stuff he usually drinks, which is to be expected since it's Grimmy's, taking a long swig that burns his throat but at the same time soothes the ache in his belly.

Matty doesn't want to be here, not at all. He would much rather have stayed at home so he could wallow in his own sorrow without an audience, but unless he is willing to walk back to George's flat on his own two feet - which he isn't, he is stuck here until George decides that it is time to leave.

And really - Matty knows that George is right. Sequestering himself away from the world to mourn his lost relationship with Gemma isn't the healthiest thing for him right now, but it's all Matty feels like he can do.

It would be different if they were already on tour, then he could lose himself in the rush of performing, in the screaming crowds, in the body of some fan who is willing to come back to the hotel with him, but Matty doesn't have any of those things to bury his problems under right now.

It will be better once Matty can get away from this town, from the reminders of Gemma everywhere he turns, but for the moment, the only safe haven he has is George's comforting house, and he is still bitter about being made to leave it for a supposedly small get-together that is anything but.

Matty vaguely recognizes the majority of the faces in the shifting sea of people that surrounds him, but he makes no effort to strike up a conversation. Much to his relief, everyone else seems too preoccupied with whatever they are doing to take any notice of Matty hiding out in the background, so he is left mostly to himself for the following hour or so, minus a few salutations here and there.

George eventually finds Matty, his concerned expression melting away into a relieved smile when he lays eyes on Matty's small body curled up in one of the numerous lawn chairs scattered around the area, the now mostly empty bottle of wine nestled against his side as he rolls a joint absentmindedly.

The alcohol in Matty's system hasn't served as the distraction he had been hoping for, in fact, it is only exacerbating everything he is feeling to the point that he is physically struggling not to ring Gemma up then and there in a pointless attempt to beg for her forgiveness. Luckily for him, the sight of George is just what he needs to prevent himself from making a potentially embarrassing phone call that he will most likely regret in the morning.

"There you are," George exhales heavily, his tall frame folding into the chair adjacent to Matty's seat that had remained vacant until just now. "You holding up okay?"

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