Ephemera (Matty Healy/George Daniel)

FIVE

Ten to five in the morning was far too early to wake George up, because that had been his first call - the one thing on the back of his mind for the past few hours. As much as George was there physically, he did miss his company in the form of conversations and smiles, and the presence of something in the silence to pull his mind back away from his younger self and the hole he'd dug for himself in all of this.

He hadn't been sure of it the night before, but it was by the time that four in the morning rolled around that he'd come to accept that this was the day. Despite the fact that the day had hardly begun, despite the fact he was far from the appropriate state of mind, this was when it had to happen. It was just that the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't avoid it, and the more he couldn't avoid it, the more he just couldn't bear it.

He had to fix things. He had to fix things while he still could - before things got worse, and things would, even if not directly, but just as easily as today could turn into tomorrow, two years could turn into three, and with the sudden weight of understanding and responsibility that Matty had allowed to press down fully on his chest, he came to accept that it had to be today. He wasn't sure if he could bare it otherwise.

He let eventuality dance around his head for a few minutes more, glancing towards the window and watching the sun begin to rise: watching the way the skies grew just that little bit less darker, and with that, the world was brought everything. The warm heat of the day, the glow that sunflowers would turn to catch, the warmth that people would reach out to feel upon their skin, was of course quite a way off, but it was coming - riding through the world as if it had been secured on the back of inevitability.

It was around five when he pulled himself together enough to get out of bed. The thoughts no longer coming like tiny daggers to his mind, but like a dull force, perhaps kinder, gentler than before, but much less intermittent - permanent in its place, and in an odd way, Matty found a comfort in that.

The fact of what he was going to do didn't quite sink in until he'd gotten dressed, grabbed his phone, spent a good minute glancing back at George - he lay peaceful and yet to stir, sound asleep, and seemingly so content with the world. It was then still not until he made it through the flat, making an effort to tread lightly, despite the fact that he was confident in his assumption that both George and Adam were asleep. Of course, however, he'd been over-confident in that belief, and found himself rather lost for words as he caught Adam peering at him from the kitchen.

The two held each other's gaze in the low light - both of them unable to quite figure out just exactly what it was that the other was doing awake at such a time. It was then that Adam came to notice how Matty was fully dressed and headed towards the front door.

Adam shook his head, making his way towards the kitchen doorway. "You're not leaving again." He let out a sigh, struggling to come to terms with what might be happening before him in the three minutes he'd gotten out of bed to get a drink. "I won't let you. He loves you."

Matty nodded, struggling to put it all into words, especially for Adam who knew nothing about Matty further than what he looked like, how much of a dickhead he could be, and the fact that he was fucking George. It wasn't like the two had never shared a word since Matty had 'moved in', but they'd found themselves sharing a conversation alone on perhaps only one other occasion, and in that case, the subject was much more trivial. "I'm not leaving."

Adam didn't seem convinced, and just gestured at Matty's clothes, and attempted just for a moment to think of any logical reason why he'd be dressed to go out at five in the morning. "What are you doing then?"

"I..." Matty trailed off. "I guess I am leaving. Not permanently. I... I'm not leaving George. We've talked about this. I have to go see my family." Matty bit his lip, praying that Adam wouldn't push it any further, because as awkwardly put together as it was, it was still the genuine truth.