loving someone / matty healy

𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚

Never did I think that at age seventeen life would already feel like it was over. What am I even supposed to do with the rest of it? And, no, I'm not having an existential crisis because I just had a fight with my boyfriend. It's because I'm alone, and life sucks for everyone, so no one should care enough to listen to me.
And, school starts tomorrow.

Whenever I used to feel like this, I'd confide in Matty. I found that he was the only person on Earth that not only understood me instantly, but wanted to understand me. He never stopped trying to make sense of what I was trying to tell him. Until now, it seemed.

I'd gotten up that day to sort out my shit for tomorrow, all motivation draining from my being at the thought of putting any of it into school. I wasn't even sure if I'd have any friends to be with when we go back - I have George, Adam, and Ross, I guess that's 'our group', but they've always been more chummy with Matty, and when it comes down to it, they'd leave me for him.

George, who is ridiculously taller than me but also ridiculously warm and sweet, would still try to make an effort with me, I think, but I can imagine Hann and Ross not being as fussed. But does that mean I think too lowly of them, or of myself? I guess I'd never really thought about it, but, most likely the latter - they're great guys.

I'd also just cut myself awful bangs, and as I looked at myself in the mirror, brunette hair now falling just below my collarbones, and fringe nearly in my bloody hairline, I couldn't help but laugh - I looked a thousand times worse than any of the girls that made it into those 'Funniest Hair Fails' compilations on Youtube. I had no idea how I was going to explain this to my parents.

- - -

Matty, George, Adam, and Ross were sitting in our spot as I arrived back at school. I joined them, hesitantly, but eventually sat comfortably in my usual spot. They all turned to look at me, staring at me as if I'd just walked in naked.

"I told you to fucking leave us alone! Can't you take a hint? We don't want you here." Matty's words were just as harsh as his glare. I sat there in utter shock, and when I realised he wasn't joking, my lip began to tremble. The guys just sat there, none defending me, just staring at the ground. Why couldn't they look at me?

"W-what?" I could barely utter the question.
Matty pouted his bottom lip, mocking me, then continuing, "You heard me. Piss off, find someone else to annoy!"

"Y-you don't mean that!" Tears were steaming out of my eyes by now, the passion in his words cutting through me worse than a guillotine. He meant what he was saying. "Guys?" But none of them acknowledged me, not even George.

"They don't want you here either, mate. And, do you wanna know something? We never did." His words were merciless.

My head shot up from my pillow, my chest heaving as I struggled to find breaths to calm myself down. I was a sweaty mess, and I had no idea how to process the nightmare I had just experienced. It had felt real, and that was terrifying. I'd dreamt of scary things before - teachers chasing me around with flamethrowers kind of scary things - the night before going back to school, but none had ignited more fear in me than the thought of Matty wanting me out of his life. Wanting nothing to do with me.

I lay back down, running a hand through my damp hair as the other rested on my chest. My heart was still beating erratically. The sun must have already risen, the first light of the morning beginning to peek through the gaps in my window that my curtains failed to contain. My alarm clock read 7:10am. Fuck.

I groaned as I swung my legs round off of my bed, my toes nestling into the warm carpet as I eventually stood up. The brief calmness I had felt last night about returning to the one place on Earth that I could not despise more had now vanished, and was now replaced with a sense of trepidation that made me feel as though my heart would think 'Nah, fuck this shit', and stop any second.

After finishing up in the bathroom and  shoving on the outfit I had prepared last night - a simple pair of black flares and mesh long sleeved crop top to match, because, you know, fuck the patriarchy and it's stupid dress code - I tried my best to make something presentable of my hair, but to no avail.

Breakfast went by quickly, too quickly, and the time to leave was creeping up on me sooner than I'd like. Dad had entered the kitchen, fixing himself a plate of the food mum had made, and noticed the state of my hair. After looking over to her, probably to double check that he wasn't imagining it, she shot him a look, and he didn't comment on it.

"What does today look like for you, sweetie?" He asked, putting down his newspaper.
"Haven't gotten my timetable yet" I shrugged. Absentmindedly, I stared at my half empty plate, anxiety stirring my insides around.
"Matty coming to walk with you or do you want a lift?" The look of, almost, pity on his face shown that he already knew the answer.

"You can drop me off today, if it's no bother"
"Of course it's not, let me go grab my briefcase, get your shoes on, sweetie."

- - -

The building was the same as it was when we left - falling to pieces and reeking of twelve year olds who were yet to invest in deodorant, made even worse when they put their armpits in your face to barge you out of the way in the corridor.

I was yet to bump into any of the guys, and I trailed along to registration anxiously gripping onto the strap of my black backpack. My first classroom I needed to seat myself in today was soon approaching, the blue door open, loud chatter audible from all the way down the hall.

Every head in the room turned in my direction upon my entrance, and you'd think that such a reaction had been elicited by the arrival of Beyoncé, but, no, just a bunch of judgemental twats.

"Someone's had a mental breakdown" George's deep voice interrupted the awkwardness, his words coming from somewhere behind me. I turned around, met with his calm face, dark hair, and legs that stuck out at the end of the table. He pointed to my hair, chuckling, and I rolled my eyes playfully as I decided to sit in the empty seat next to him.

"Don't even talk to me about it, mate" I laughed, also finding humour in the mess I'd found myself in. He held his hands up, still chuckling.
"What did Matty have to say about it?"
What usually would have been a casual question was an inquiry that was now deeply saddening. He probably wouldn't even care enough to have an opinion on it anymore.

"Uhh, things with Matty have been a bit... strained lately" I spoke hesitantly, trying to pick my words carefully so as not to be misleading, but all the while having no real clue what I was even saying - I don't know what's going on between the two of us, any further elaboration would be disingenuous.

"You guys have fallen out?" He was now leaning closer, voice quieting because George has always been one to respects people's privacy.
"Not fallen out, just...different, I guess. Like we don't know how to be us anymore."

"Oh my God, he finally told you?" Along with an excited spark in his eyes came an unpolitically adorable smile, but all I could do was furrow my eyebrows.
"What the hell are you talking about, Daniel?" His eyes widened, and I was beginning to find this whole thing very sketchy.

"Oh, uh, you know what? I think it was uh, about the, you know-"
"Him and Armaan fighting?" I threw in a suggestion of the only thing I thought it could be.
"Yes, Monty! The fight! That's what it was!" I just nodded, not really wanting to talk about that right now, or ever.

"Yeah, I know about it. Don't wanna talk about it though"
"Fair enough" He wrapped his long arm around my shoulder.
"Anyway, I can't believe you still call me 'Monty'"
"Why would I call you anything else? A shortened version of your last name suits you just fine" He shrugged. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.