Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

A Change of Heart

-Trinity's POV-

I walked into my office building and made my way to my desk, feeling a little deflated after the events of the previous night. I was surprised to see a large bouquet of flowers sitting on my desk. There was no note attached, but the colorful blooms filled the room with a sweet fragrance. I bite my lip in anticipation.

As I looked closer, I noticed a small pack of cigarettes tucked between the petals. I flip open the flap and my heart starts racing as I read the words on the note inside written in bold, black ink: Meet me at the diner on the corner of 6th and Houston at noon.
It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. I fanned the thick piece of textured paper across my face and catch a whiff of a familiar scent. Tom Ford's Lost Cherry.
Oh.
He was good.
They do say smell is the sense most associated with memory.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur as I tried to focus on work, but my mind kept wandering back to Matty and what he could possibly want to talk to me about.
Finally, when my lunch break arrived, I made my way to the diner, feeling a little nervous and unsure of what to expect.

As I walked in, I scanned the room and spotted Matty sitting at a table in the corner. He looked so different from last night - clean cut and put together. His hair was shaved from the sides. I couldn't help but feel a little bit intimidated.
As I approached the table, he stood up and greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey," he said, gesturing for me to sit down. "Thanks for coming."
I took my seat and noticed that he had ordered us both cups of coffee.

"So," I said, trying to break the awkward silence. "What's all this about?"
He was hunched over the table. He looked down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at me.
"I just wanted to apologize for last night," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was a mess, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
I couldn't see his eyes through the black wayfarers he had on, but I could tell that he was genuinely sorry, and my heart softened a little bit.
"It's okay," I said softly. "I understand that you were going through a tough time."

What I said must've hit a nerve, because just then his demeanour shifted.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Little bird, tonight's show is the only thing on my mind. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly."
His voice was calm, but I could sense a hint of condescension just beneath the surface.
I nod, not knowing how to respond.

"You would think I'd have gotten used to this by now, what with all the touring we do" he chuckles as he leans back against the booth and runs his hand through his hair.
I look around the room and only then do I notice how many people were staring at him. It was clear that he was aware of all the female attention he was getting, but he had always been a little full of himself like that.
"What's tonight?" I try to change the subject.
As he pushed his wayfarers down his nose, a glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes.
"Haven't you heard?" He leaned in a little closer. "We're playing at the Mercury Lounge tonight. I'd love for you to come and hear how much better we sound now." He paused, his lips curling into a playful smile.
"Bring a friend, or two, or three. Just let them know at the door that you're a friend of mine." His canines flashed briefly before he slid his glasses back up his nose.

As we sat at the diner and talked, I notice a change in Matty. He seemed more confident than he used to be. It was as if he knew he was so desired, he didn't need to put in any effort to win anyone over. No more torn T shirts and faded jeans. He had on an all black outfit with the sleekest leather jacket.
It was a stark contrast to the Matty I used to know, who was kind and humble, and it left me feeling a bit disoriented.

As if he could sense something was wrong, he takes off his shades and reaches across the table to take my hand.
"I know this seems out of the blue," he says, looking straight into my eyes. "But come tonight. For old times sake. They don't say it out loud, but I know George, Ross and Adam are dying to meet you."
I felt a spark ignite in my chest. I missed my old friends. But I couldn't ignore the fear that came with it. "I don't know, Matty," I said hesitantly. "Seems like we're playing with fire."

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I get it," he said softly. "Just think about it, yeah?" And with that, he placed my hand back on the table and leaned back in his seat, his eyes back behind his shades.

It had been years since I last saw him, and my wound from the summer after I left had finally healed. Or so I thought. But now, as I sat across from him, I felt like I was transported back in time, reliving every memory we shared. It was as if he had the power to undo all the progress I'd made.

As we finish up our meal, a young waitress comes over to our table with the check. She's fidgeting nervously and keeps stealing glances at Matty. I can tell she's smitten with him.

"Excuse me," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you Matty from The 1975?"
Matty grins, looking quite pleased with himself. "Yeah, that's me."
The waitress blushes and looks down at her feet. "Oh my god, I'm such a huge fan. Could I get a picture with you... and maybe an autograph?"
Matty leans back in his seat, relishing the attention. "Of course, love. Anything for a fan."
I observe as the waitress takes out her phone and snaps a picture with Matty. He signs a napkin for her, and she thanks him before darting off to show her friends.

As Matty turns back to me, I can't help but notice a subtle shift in his behaviour. There was a newfound vanity in his manner that was almost tangible, as if he was relishing the adoration that had just been showered upon him. And while a part of me feels a twinge of annoyance at his apparent arrogance, I have to admit that there's something undeniably alluring about the way he commands attention. It's as if he was made for the spotlight, and I find myself unable to look away.

"Let me walk you back" he says and I'm reminded of how my date never offered to walk me home the previous night.

At first, he's attentive and gentle, seeming to genuinely care about what I have to say. In fact, he seems genuinely interested in my life and asks me questions about my job and my hobbies. We talk about music, movies, and our mutual love of art and culture.
But then, it's as if a switch is flipped and he becomes a different person altogether. The Matty before me now is polished and well-rehearsed, with a carefully crafted persona, his media training shining through in every word and gesture.
He goes back and forth between the two and I find myself wondering which version of him is the real one.

We reach the entrance to my office building and
with that, we part ways.
As I make my way up, I think about the years I spent single-mindedly pursuing my career, channeling all my energy into making it secure and stable. And now that I've finally reached that point, I find myself yearning for something else.

Perhaps it's a part of my nature to be restless, and my past has only reinforced this. All my life, I've felt like I didn't belong anywhere; a sense of detachment thanks to the constant moving. But with Matty, it always felt like coming home.

But I stop myself. Memories of that heart-wrenching sight resurface, replaying in my mind's eye like a relentless film reel. I see the girl perched over his lap like I did so often, the way his head fell back and his eyebrows furrowed in that familiar way...
The knot in my stomach tightens, releasing an unsettling wave of nausea. It is a reminder, a sobering truth that lingers in the depths of my being.

But that was a long time ago and something about the way he looked at me today, the way he reached out to touch my hand, makes me wonder if maybe the past was behind us.

Sigh.
It's a complicated mess when it comes to knowing where I stand with him. The tangled web of our past, the complex emotions we share, and the many variables in our lives, make it nearly impossible to determine the situation.
With the added factor that now he could have virtually anybody he wanted.

I wish it were simpler, that I could just ask him outright where we stand, but it's not that easy. There's too much at stake; so much history that any move could potentially tip the scales in a direction I'm not prepared for.

I bury my face in my hands, feeling conflicted and confused about what to do next.