takes a bit more • matthew healy

viii.) tequila

i know i'm fucking wrong, even i don't know why i said rhiannon's name in the first place.. well, i can get quite talkative at times, honestly, and there are times where my mouth is faster than my mind is, i think this is one of those times, to be frank. rhiannon... she doesn't deserve this. i am guilty beyond belief.

if only she can fucking answer my damn calls.

i turn to adam. "and you think that is the right thing to do?"

"she obviously doesn't want to speak to you on the phone," he replies coolly, "she'll have no choice if you show up on her doorstep again. can i not go, though? i feel a cold coming on."

i reach for my wallet, take out a few pounds, then place them on the table. "i'll return in a few hours."

—

i usually live for train rides to london all alone.

but today's ride feels tiring somewhat.

a ton of people have boarded, and i remain seated on my spot, habitually checking my phone for any signs of rhiannon actually letting me know her thoughts on this whole scenario. i feel as if i'm going quite mad, just watching people go in and out of this tube and onto their own less fucked-up lives.

i can already hear george's voice at the back of my head, telling me how much of an insensitive narcissist i am, how much this is going to affect the band... "fuck you healy, we're going on tour in a few days. our manager jamie isn't going to be happy about this. you dumb fuck."

"neither am i, george. trust me." i mutter under my breath. who knew a photograph could start such a fire?

i get to london around noon, then hail a cab to rhiannon's place. at the back of my head i'm practicing my lines once her mother sees me. hi, i'm matthew, i need to see your daughter. i may look older than her, which i am, and trust me it's not as awful as you think, but i take complete responsibility over the leaked picture on the internet, and it's my fault, and i'm sorry, and yes i snuck her out last night, and i'm sorry for that too, but i really need for you to give me and rhiannon a minute to sort things out.

i'm terrified. in my head the word rejection is repeating over and over, and my hands are clammy, and everything feels bigger than i am, and for a minute or two i actually feel like a teenager again, trying to talk to a girl who feels way out of my league. fucking hell. worst years of my life.

it terrifies me to even look at rhiannon's eyes, to try and choke out an apology for something both of us wanted to happen in the first place. nevertheless, she's young.. it's too much to know that i did something like this to a seventeen year-old.

the truth is, madam, i kind of fancy your daughter. not because i had sex with her. but because she's something else.

i pull out a cigarette and settle for a smoke before knocking on their doorstep. the door opens almost immediately to my surprise, and i prepare my speech once i see rhiannon's mother facing me.

"hi," i say, "i'm matt—"

"she doesn't live here anymore."

it takes a few seconds for me to process what had just been said. she looks pissed, and i notice how we're smoking the same cigarette.