This Must Be My Dream / The 1975

5

"ladies and gentlemen!" i yell out as i walk in the room full of people who i have yet to meet. in one hand i have champagne and in the other a cigarette, "let's celebrate to the 1975," everyone cheers and matty hugs me from behind, squeezing my bum with his free hand. I lead him to the balcony, gasping at the view, "I'll never get tired of this," i say and kiss his lips, "so is this the uncomfortable sheets kind of a hotel or the getting high in the bathtub?" i smile, "the latter," i take a sip of the champagne, making a face, "could be better," it's his turn to smile and we kiss again. 

"can someone put on some music?" i shout and continue, "maybe some rolling stones," i give my attention back to matty who's chugging of the champagne, "i hope there's a pool here at this hotel," i sigh, "i want to go skinny dipping once," 

"i'd like that too," he quips amused, "but even more so i'd like to see you wet somewhere else," i laugh at his silly remark, "shut up," i plop down next to him on the floor, putting one arm around his shoulder and he takes a drag of my cigarette which has put out already by itself, "oops," i say, more to myself than to him and light it up for him, "you look really nice when smoking," i tell him and he quirks an eyebrow, "you always look nice," i grab his chin and turn his head around, looking him dead in the eyes before kissing him passionately, "i want to get wasted tonight," i whisper into his mouth, "let's do it then. let's do something so stupid we'll get banned from this hotel," he gushes, wide-eyed. it get's me even more enthusiastic over the idea. 

i tug at his curls which are covering his face and tuck them behind his ears, "there, much better," then i proceed to climb in his lap, leaning on his chest, which feels too good and it frightens me a bit. 

"you're gonna leave one day, aren't you?" he suddenly asks, as if he was reading my mind. for a moment, everything is quiet, except for the loud music coming from the hotel room and i don't answer. maybe it's best to have him think what he wants to think. maybe he already knows the answer and it was only a rhetorical question. maybe he was hoping for me to say that i'm not leaving. 

"come on, let's get this party started," we stand up, so sloppily we knock over the champagne bottle. a clipped laugh escapes his lips, "shit man, not the champagne," but neither of us does anything to save the golden liquid escaping the bottle. we leave it as it is and go inside, where people are getting wasted to the rolling stones, thanks to me. 

matty wanders off to george and i can't help myself, i try to listen to their conversation, only hearing bits of what they're saying.

"what did i tell you about this girl? she has completely rearranged your world and she doesn't care, you know she doesn't," my heart starts beating faster and i can't listen to george's babbling any longer. 

i decide to get to the weed circle and sit next to Ross who's laughing at something so hard it even makes me laugh, "oh Rossie," i pat his drunken head and gladly accept the joint which John passes to me. 

i think about what george told matty and i wanted to yell at him for telling matty things like that. even though partially he was right. 

i do care, i care a lot, but i don't know what  our love amounts to.  

i try to shake off the bad thoughts and take another puff of the joint before passing it forward to whoever is sitting next to me. i sing along to start me up while searching for the little bag of dreams in my backpack.

i put some of the powder on my finger and lick it off, already feeling the effects of marijuana. the fast heart beat. the hot ears. the wobbly legs. the lightness of my body. 

"what's rock n roll to you?" i ask the people surrounding me, everyone is smoking a cigarette and i take a picture of them, writing the question down on the back side of the photo.

"sex and music," someone says, "oh and the drugs man," Lola adds and her face lights up like a Christmas tree, maybe because of the drugs she already took or because of the drugs she's yet to consume.

"is monroe a real name?" that same someone asks me and i shake my head, "you'll never know," i press my finger against my lips, "it's a secret," with that i jump up and wander off. 

"monroe!" i tilt my head, unsure who's excited voice that was, "monroe i haven't seen you since you went on tour with that catfish band,"

"you mean catfish and the bottlemen?" as much as i try to remember, i can't seem to recognise her violet hair and dark skin, "yeah, that band!" she hugs me and then it clicks, "god, anita, it's been a while,"

"how's life? i heard you've been hooking up with the curly boy," she giggles and points at matty who's talking with some folks, "i've been living the single life lately, so no men for me," she explains and offers me her drink, "thanks,"

/matty/

i see her laughing with anita and i excuse myself from the people around me. i stumble across the room where she's sitting on the sofa. 

she stares at me and i stare back, both having a soft smile on our faces, everything and everyone else disappears. it's only us. 

she looks down, then back up and a short, giggle-ish laugh escapes her pink mouth, making me shake my head. i notice anita observing us, not sure what to do. whether to leave us two alone in our world or to start a conversation. 

she does neither, she lights up a joint and monroe rests her head on her knees, "rock n roll is a lifestyle," i sit down, "it's all here," i touch her chest, "it's all in your heart," she's still looking in the other direction, "for me, rock n roll brings out a bit nostalgic feeling. like i'm missing something i haven't yet done," i pause, "but it is also one of the ways that gets the blood rushing through my veins,"

she finally looks at me, her crystal red eyes starting to create tiny tears, "my mother used to say that rock n roll lifestyle was meant for me," she takes a deep breath, looking around, trying to hide away the tears, "where did anita go?" i shrug, "i don't know,"

her head rolls back, "it all feels like a dream," she exhales the cigarette smoke and i tell her how beautiful she is, and she laughs, probably at me being a love struck fool.

i ask her for her pen and she gives it to me, her eyes showing curiosity, "i think i just came up with some verses for a song,"

"a song about me?"

"stop being so self obsessed," i say as i write words on my skin, "but yeah it is about you,"

"can i see?" she gently holds my hand, watching me scribble down the verses,

"Let me tell you 'bout this girl, i thought she'd rearrange my world," she stops for a second, but continues," Takes a particular type of girl to put my heart under arrest, so why's this beating on my chest?"

"probably because of the eyes," i furrow my eyebrows, "huh?"

"john said it's the eyes," still confused, i write down some new words, and she reads out loud again, "this must be my dream, was wide awake before i found you,"