Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

Sincerity is Scary

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I say as I stagger towards the parking lot.
I hear the door bust open just then but I don't look back.
"What did you say to her?" I hear him shout at Molly behind me but I continue walking forward.
"Trinity" I hear him calling after me, his footsteps getting louder. I ignore his cries and reach into my backpack for my cellular device. I flip it open and see the low battery sign pop up. Damn it to hell. Of all the times, it had to die on me now.
Matty was beside me in no time, his hands on his knees, gasping for air.
"Shit, fuck, I need to stop smoking" he lets out between wheezes.
I feel a droplet of water on my nose and look up as another drop of rain blinds me in one eye.
"What did she tell you?" He says more sternly now, having regained his composure.
"What do you think she told me?"
"Please just tell me so I can explain myself" he pleads.
"You let her OD and then just left her there?" My voice was several octaves higher now out of anger.
"What????? That's how she phrased it? And you believed her?"
"Okay," I say. "For two minutes, we forget that we have feelings. And we forget about protecting ourselves or other people and we just say the truth. For two minutes. And then we can go back to being so cool we don't talk about our feelings" I offer.
The drizzle slowly turning into rain now, but we stood our ground. This seemed like a conversation that needed to be had right here, right now.

He looked pensive, as if choosing his answer carefully and after glancing at his wrist watch- 10:20, says, "It's just," pause, "it's just that everyone expects me to be their ideal version me, at all times, and it's exhausting. I mean, I don't even know who I am, or if I'm even real!" he throws up his hands, exasperated.
"Look," he sighs softly, placing his hands on my shoulders, "I only ever feel like a person when I'm with you. You make all my intrusive thoughts go away. And that's something I've never experienced in a person before." He seemed so sincere when he said this, but his expression grew colder as he continued.
"Of course, I have found other ways to make the intrusive thoughts go away," his hands reaching for his breast pocket instinctively.
"What- what's in there?" I ask, even though I already knew the answer.
"Molly..." he pauses to collect his thoughts, "She's been my friend for a long time. When I felt isolated from my parents, she'd take me to her house to distract me with comic books and CD's. But as my home-life grew more hostile, those things just didn't seem to cut it anymore. So one day, she told me she had a surprise for me. She held my hand in hers, palm up, and placed a little baggie on it. Upon closer inspection, I realised it was, erm, cocaine."
He said that word like he was a bit embarrassed. He looked at me solemnly and continued when I didn't offer a reply.
"So fast forward to that night, yeah? We were at a party and we'd just done a line or two and she drops a bombshell on me. Talking about how she was in love with me and crap and I just, I don't know, I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't feel the same way. I know it was cowardly of me and I've been beating myself up over it since, but that was for the best, I think. And when I left, I specifically asked George to look after her. And you know what? She was fine!"
Now I frown in confusion.
"Yeah. She was fiiiiine," he says nonchalantly. "But Molly, you see, has a love for the theatrics. She OD'd some time that night at home and it was Peter who found her. What I did that night was cowardly, I admit, but in hindsight it was the best possible outcome. Do you think that boorish bastard would've let me walk if he had found little unconscious Molly with me beside her? No chance."
I look up at the rain clouds now slowly dissipating into the distance, my hair clinging to my neck and back. "Huh", I say. "It stopped raining."
"Fuck me, T that's what's going on in that head of yours?" he chuckles.
"No it for sure seemed like there was about to be a storm" I continue.
"Huh" he says in response. "A commentary on life itself."
I look at him now. His eyes wide and searching.
"Every single person I've cared about has ended up leaving and all that mess, I've found, is totally avoidable if you follow two very simple rules: 1. Lower your expectations and 2. Don't care about anything enough to let it hurt you. Everything unfortunate that has ever happened to me has stemmed from failure to follow one of those rules."
He withdrew a surprisingly dry and intact box of cigarettes from his trousers pocket and wedged one between his lips. "Was the prick who recently got expelled one of those people?" He asks glumly.
"Who? Charlie? No. I mean yes, our parents are family friends but I never saw him in that light."
I was expecting him to scoff at me, as people often do when I tell them there's nothing going on between Charlie and I, but he just nods.
"I of all people know what that's like. Sometimes we get entangled in things that are out of our control and things tend to get away from us. We get attached and it's a feeling like love, but it just isn't the actual thing itself."
For once in my life, I felt understood.
"The night we met, what were you upset about?" I ask.
"Ah yes, I remember that night vividly" he says, walking towards the curb and sitting beside a sopping wet flowerbed. I take the cigarette and sit beside him.
"After the OD incident, she vowed never to touch that stuff again but well," he broke off suddenly, his mouth open, almost like something had cut off his air. He sucked in a deep breath. "Well, I on the other hand, I was fiending for a hit."
I took a drag to clear my head, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
"I begged her for a gram. When she refused, I guilt-tripped, gaslit, damn near bawled my eyes out. I did everything in my power to get her to give in to my needs" He shuddered at the thought.
"But still, she did not budge. And with that, I told her she was dead to me. Of course I felt horrible immediately after, but I didn't get the chance to mull over it for too long because lo and behold, I bumped into an old friend of mine coincidentally-pun very well intended- and he managed to scrounge up some goodies from his bag of dreams."
"Wait-" I say, at my sudden realisation. "Is that why you were high on molly that night?"
His face contorted with embarrassment.
"I really thought I was being... em, poetic or some shit"
"You do tend to over-indulge in your delusions sometimes."
"Well, you know what, fuckin' bugger off" he laughs, nudging my rib.
"But when I think of that night, do you know what comes to mind?" He says more seriously now.
"You mean other than your pathetic attempt at being "poetic"?"
He just rolls his eyes and continues on.
"I wrote a song that night." He starts humming a familiar tune.
"Hey isn't that the same song you were humming when..." I trail off when I fully remember the situation.
"When you were dry heaving into the toilet you mean?" He laughs a hearty laugh.
"See I told you I wasn't laughing at you. I just couldn't believe how simply being in close proximity to you gets my creative juices flowing like that. I mean I was truly inspired" he turns his whole body to face me, a look of wonder and disbelief in his eyes.
"I want to know you, Maxine Trinity Hastings. Stellar initials, btw" I laugh and he continues, "I mean, it's genius!"
"You're so full of yourself I say" Unable to hide the joy in my voice.
"Well, do you wanna hear it or not?" He asks, smiling from ear to ear.