𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Dylan agrees to meet up with her childhood best friend's band, and they discover she's just what they need to be complete. But the band isn't the only thing that Dylan makes whole.
I probably shouldn't have been as annoyed as I was at Dylan. She hadn't done anything wrong. I'd made a bad assumption about her boyfriend and she'd got mad. It was my fault, she had every right. But why on earth was she coming to George's so often now?
It was weird. Every time we had a break from practising, she'd come over. I loved talking. I could talk for England. But not around Dylan. It was awkward around her now. Why would I wanna talk to someone who hated me?
So, for our whole breaks, I'd just sit in silence, not speaking. Maybe it was a good thing. The boys did always say I spoke just a bit too much. Who knew it'd take George's best mate to shut me up?
"I'm going for a smoke," I said. Everyone nodded and I got up, lighting my cigarette up and sitting on George's wall.
I'd been down lately, trying to write a song. They always just came to my head, the lyrics, it was never too hard. The hard part was figuring out how I wanted to sing it, and how the boys wanted to play it. But now the words weren't flowing out of me like they usually did.
I didn't even want this cigarette, just fresh air. I was about to put it out, when I heard the front door open. I hoped it was one of the boys coming out to ask me why I've been so quiet. Why I've been so not-Matty. It wasn't. Just Dylan, waving goodbye, bag on her shoulder. She was wearing long sleeves, I could only assume her arms were still bruised.
"You alright?" She asked me, my eyes widening.
"Why?" I asked, not giving her an answer.
"You've just been quiet this past week. I know we've only met twice, but you were really talkative and George has always said you're the chatty one of the group."
"I am. Just not when you're around."
"Sorry?"
"'Fuck off Matty, you don't know what you're on about'," I repeated her own words to her.
"You didn't-"
"I know I didn't, Dylan, but can you seriously blame me for making that assumption after what you told me that night? Everyone was drunk, he was angry, and you can't deny that, even if they're not, them bruises look like handprints."
She sighed. "I still don't know what that's got to do with you not talking when I'm around."
I shrugged. "It just felt weird, talking around someone who so obviously doesn't want me to talk."
"I do want you talk, Matty."
"What?"
"You're funny, and you're entertaining. You can't blame me for being annoyed at what you said last week, it was a really bold assumption, but I'm not mad at you."
Funny and entertaining? I could work with that.
"Glad we've got that cleared up, then," I said, going to put my cigarette out again. She stopped me and took it.
"If you don't want it, you know I'll always have it," she smiled, putting it in her mouth and inhaling the smoke.
I chuckled. "You've got a problem."
She blew the smoke in my face. "Haven't we all?"
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DYLAN'S POV 10th December, 2009
I was sat in my bedroom playing guitar. I hadn't played since I left sixth form, not really wanting to think about music. I had to focus on getting a job.
But, for now, my dad was gonna put in a word with his friend, who managed a bar, and see if I could be a barmaid, so I didn't have to focus as much on my recent job search.
I made up my own little riff, running with it until I heard a loud knock on my door, which I instantly recognised as my dad's.
"Come in," I said, resting my elbows on my guitar.
It was a guitar I'd had since I was about thirteen, and still the best Christmas present I'd ever received. My dad sat down on the bed next to me.
"My friend said no about a job at the bar," he said.
"What? Why?"
"He just doesn't need anyone. He said he'd tried to make room for an extra barmaid, but he would've had to start paying everyone else less, and that's not fair."
"Guess I'll have to keep looking then."
My dad left. I put the guitar down and flopped back on my bed, sighing. I was instantly regretting dropping out. I wondered if they'd take me back. I'd been gone less than a month. But I knew I'd be miserable. I supposed I'd just have to see it through.
