Deja Vu

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The party rages on, a chaotic and swirling vortex of bodies and noise. I'm handed a shot of tequila, and I hesitate for a moment before accepting it.
Noah, on the other hand, downs his shot with ease and slams the glass down on the table, letting out a loud cheer. I laugh at his enthusiasm. In spite of myself, I find that I'm starting to warm up to him.

As the night wears on, the tequila shots keep coming, and I feel the effects of the alcohol intensifying. The urge to relieve myself becomes insurmountable, and I excuse myself from the couch we were lounging on. George hands me the key card to the boys' reserved master bedroom to avoid the hassle of waiting in line.

As I take a step forward, my legs buckle beneath me, and I nearly lose my balance. Suddenly, a soft hand wraps around my arm, steadying me. It's Noah.

"Need some help there?" he slurs, his expression one of genuine concern.
I chuckle. "Thanks, but I think I've got it," I say, returning his smile.
"You know," he adds, "I've been beating myself up over something since our date the other night."
"Oh?" I inquire, intrigued.
"Yeah," he continues, "I feel like such an idiot for not walking you back to your apartment. I had such an amazing time with you, the least I could've done was walk you home."

I chuckle at his confession. "It's okay. I made it home safe and sound."
"I know," he says, "it's just... you make me really nervous"
"Nervous?" I smile at him, touched by his sincerity. "Yeah," he admits. "Something about you," Noah smiles shyly at me. "Let me take you out on a proper date. And I'll make sure to walk you back this time"
I nod, feeling a warm sensation spreading though me. Maybe Noah wasn't so bad after all.

The party sounds fade into the distance as I shut the door behind me, and I take a deep breath to steady myself. I slip off my well-worn Vans, and the cool bathroom tiles feels good against my bare feet.
The dim lighting makes the place feel a little more intimate, and for a moment, I forget the ruckus happening outside.

I walk over to the sink, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is tousled, and my makeup is smudged from all the dancing and sweating. I can't help but laugh at my reflection, realizing how sloshed I am.

I take a seat on the toilet and let out a long sigh of relief. It feels good to have a moment of peace amidst the chaos of the party.

My mind starts to wander as I sit there. I think about how much I'm enjoying myself, but also how much I miss the simple pleasure of a quiet night in with a good book. The juxtaposition of the two makes me laugh softly to myself.

The sound of the flushing toilet echoes in the empty bathroom. But then I hear it – the unmistakable sound of the shower curtain being pulled back. A faint smell of smoke wafts through the air, and immediately, I know who it is on the other side.

It's Matty, fully clothed, his head tilted and arm draped over the edge of the empty bathtub.
"Fancy meeting you here." There's a wistfulness in his tone that wasn't there before.

As I stand there, looking at Matty reclining in the bathtub, memories of our past come rushing back. My mind takes me back to that first party in high school; the one after his gig at some local pub. I remember feeling upset about something or the other, the cheap wine burning my throat as I sought refuge in the bathroom. But then he was there, pulling back the shower curtain, offering a beacon of light. He took care of me, offering kindness and understanding when I needed it most.

Now, years later, as I stand here in the dimly lit bathroom, I feel like I finally have a chance to return the favor. Funny how life comes full circle.

"Hiding from all your adoring fans? I ask, halfheartedly, raising an eyebrow.
Matty let's out a chuckle and responds in the same lukewarm tone, "oh, you know me so well. I can't help it if everyone wants a piece of this." He gestures to himself apathetically with a smirk.
I can't help but laugh and shake my head, "You're so full of yourself, Matty Healy."
Matty shrugs his shoulders, "Can you blame me?"
I roll my eyes, still smiling, "I suppose not."

He scoots over, making room for me to sit next to him.
As I step into the bathtub, he grins and says, "I never thought I'd be sharing a bathtub with you again"
I roll my eyes yet again. "Well, it's not exactly the hot tub at the Ritz, is it?"
Matty smirks. "No, but it's still pretty hot," he says, giving me a once-over.

"So... are we gonna talk about what happened earlier?" I ask gently.
Matty's expression changes as soon as I mention it. His eyes become more intense, and his brows furrow slightly. For a moment, I worry that I've overstepped some sort of boundary, but I can't keep my thoughts from tumbling out.
"I just feel like we need to clear the air," I continue, my voice softening. "I don't want things to be weird between us."

"I'm not proud of this," Matty says with a heavy sigh. His voice is thick with guilt and shame. "But, Gemma? She's just a one-nighter," he adds bluntly.

I'm caught off guard by his raw honesty, but I try not to show it. I can sense the weight of his words.

"What do you mean?" I ask gently, hoping to coax out more of his truth.
Matty shrugs, as if the answer is obvious. "I mean, I hook up with her sometimes when I'm on tour and feeling lonely. It's not like we have a real connection or anything. We're just using each other, you know?"

I lean back in the tub, staring up at the ceiling. As I listen to Matty talk about his flings, I'm transported back to the summer I came back to surprise him. I want to ask him if the girl he was with that night was just another one-night-stand. Or if she meant something more. I want to ask him why he took her there, to our spot. The place we met for the first time.
The memory I've been repressing comes creeping back in. The way her head was bobbing up and down, the soft moan he let out—
I shake my head abruptly trying to get the image out of my head.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks me solemnly.
"I'm thinking we should head back to the party," I say, trying to talk around the lump that had formed in my throat.

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