Colours || Matty Healy

Chapter One

The wind starts to pick up and I wrap my coat around myself tighter, hoping it will keep my warmth in and not let the cold invade it.

The sun was out, the sky was blue, but the wind was quite tough every now and then. The sky was pretty much deceiving. You'd look at it through your window and think 'oh, what a sunny day!', but then you step outside and you're hit with 1000 icicles and snow balls. Okay, slight exaggeration on my part, but I'm bloody freezing.

The wind starts to slow down and I'm only 5 minutes away from my flat - one that I share with a close friend called Emma. We've known each other for 10 years now, and the friendship in my eyes is to last a lifetime - though she does get on my tits sometimes (not literally). The street we live on is quite busy, but it does the job.

Music starts to fill my ears and I stop in my tracks to listen closely to where it's coming from. Across the road from me, a guy is sat on a bench in front of the park, guitar in his hand as he strums, eyes down. His guitar case sits open in front of him.

I move to cross the road and stand a few steps away from him. I lean back on a lamp post and watch him play his guitar. No one else is stood watching him and it makes me feel awkward, but I just love listening to people who play in the streets - they almost always sound amazing!

"And this is how it starts," his voice comes out sounding vulnerable yet confident, soft yet sharp and rough."Take your shoes off in the back of my van," he sings.
His dark hair falls in front of his face, but he ignores it and carries on. His hair is interesting. It's shaved from the sides but the top is long at the front and shortish at the back. It's different. He wears a white shirt, topped with a leather jacket, dark ripped skinny jeans and black boots. Sunglasses and a pack of cigarettes are also on the bench next to him.
"my shirt looks so good," he sings. "When it's just hanging off your back,"

I'm surprised that I'm the only one standing there. He has an amazing voice. It's unique - probably not everyone's cup of tea, but definitely mine.

"She said, use your hands and my spare time, we've got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine. She said, she's got a boyfriend anyway,"

This time he looks up and his eyes are instantly drawn to mine. A smile plays at his lips and I smile back.

"It's only minutes before I drop you off. All we seem to do is talk about sex. She's got a boyfriend anyway," he holds my eye for long before looking back down at his guitar.
"I loved your friend when I saw his film. He's got a funny face, but I like that cos he still looks cool. She's got a boyfriend anyway,"

I take my phone out and go to record him, hoping to god he doesn't mind...what if he finds it disrespectful? Oh who cares. He sounds bloody amazing, I'm falling in love with his voice. I need to remember this.
I decide to not film him but instead record his voice. Maybe that'll be less offensive.

"Now we're on the bed in my room and I'm about to fill his shoes, but you say no. You say no." He looks up at me again as he sings, the small smile having left his face, but traces of it still there. I feel as though I might possibly be drooling. He moves his eyes to the ground.

"Does he take care of you? Or could I easily fill his shoes? But you say no. You say no.
Now we're just outside of town, and you're making your way down. She's got a boyfriend anyway. She's got a boyfriend anyway.
And I'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just -
She's got a boyfriend anyway.
She's got a boyfriend anyway.
Got your tongue pierced anyway.
You're in your high tops any day.
You're in your skinny jeans anyway.
You and your fit friends anyway.
I'd take them all out any day.
They've all got backcombs anyway.
You've all got boyfriends anyway."

He finishes his song and looks up at me as I walk towards him, digging my pocket for some change. I pull out a fiver and go to put it in his case but stop myself.

"Its windy... It might just fly out and let the wind carry it," I say, giving it to him in his hand.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it, babe," he says, taking the money with a grateful smile.

"Your uh-" my mind loses track as I take in him calling me babe. Oh god. I need to calm down. "Your voice is-" my voice croaks and I feel my cheeks heat up. He's smiling up at me in the cutest way. Bloody hell, he's practically a stranger. I need to stop.
"Sorry," I say apologising for my voice as I cough the croak out.

"It's alright," he laughs.

"What I was trying to to say is, your voice is really amazing. You have some talent that I probably wouldn't ever be able to top off,"

"Thank you," he replies. "You sing?"

I scrunch up my face a little with a laugh. "Let's just say I try,"

He laughs with me. "I'm sure you're great,"

"I'm really terrible. I should stick to art,"

"Ah, so you paint and stuff?"

I nod my head. "It's fun, but I have little to no patience sometimes, which doesn't mix well with art,"

"You should show me your art sometime," he says as he puts down his guitar in the open case and stands up.

"Maybe one day, if you promise not to laugh at it," I say, feeling even shorter than usual because of how tall he is compared to me. He's not that much taller than me, if I'm honest, but still - I'm short.

"Wouldn't dream of it, babe,"

I smile up at him and nod. "Anyway. I should get going. I was supposed to be home about 20 minutes ago,"

I told Emma that I'd be there at 2:15. It's now 2:40. Okay...maybe longer than 20 minutes but I'm sure she'll understand when I show her the recording. Which reminds me, I forgot to turn off the recording. Meaning I'm recording this conversation. Oh well.

"Well, I'm here tomorrow if you wanna catch me again," he winks as he bends down and zips his guitar case. I die. I swear, I think I'm dead. "Maybe I'll see you then," his voice sounds hopeful, his eyes looking up at me.

"Maybe you will," I grin and I start to walk away with the biggest smile on my face.

When I finally reach home the grin stays on my face and I run into Emma's room. She's laying on her bed, using her laptop.

"Thought you were coming home earlier, Ash." She says. She looks up at me, looks down and then her eyes shoot up again looking scared and confused. "Why are you so happy?"

I jump onto her bed, placing my butt next to her and play the recording. When she goes to question me again I shush her.

The guys voice plays through my phone and fills my ears. I close my eyes enjoying it, but open them again so I can watch Emma's reaction. She doesn't look as excited as me.

When his singing stops I press pause.

"How amazing is he!?" I squeal.

"I mean he's alright," she says, shrugging her shoulders. I raise my eyebrows, waiting for her to say more but she just types away on her laptop.

I roll my eyes at her. "Seriously, his voice is my life, I died," I say. She doesn't look up once and carries on with typing whatever crap she's writing.

"Exaggeration much," she mumbles.

"Okay, what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" I ask, my excitement subsiding.

"Nothing," she replies. "Just feel like crap I guess,"

I frown slightly and stare at her, knowing that something was definitely wrong. She meets my eyes after a few moments.

"What?" She questions. I raise my eyebrows and she sighs. "I feel unwell, that's all,"

I still feel like she's lying but if she wanted to tell me something, she would've done it the second time, so I shrug it off my shoulders.

"I'll make you a cuppa," I say. I walk off into the kitchen and turn the kettle on. We did have plans for later but if she's feeling unwell, then fair enough...we'll just have to stay home.