Only You (Matty Healy/George Daniel)

34: Here

~~~

Matty hates himself for what he's about to do, but at the same time, he no longer cares what becomes of him. He can't continue on in this way, he had decided this before, but now he's assured of his weakness. He needs drugs to survive; without cocaine, he is unable to cope with the myriad of emotions facing him, so he digs through his bags the second John finally leaves him alone, finding an almost forgotten eight ball of coke that had escaped his earlier purge.

Matty snorts a line without a second thought, his nostrils stinging and his eyes watering as he wipes at his face absentmindedly. He embraces the high that's already beginning to flow through his veins, but it's not enough. He still feels so empty inside - so broken. He needs to stop feeling anything at all, otherwise, he'll shatter completely. So he takes another line, and then another, until he has nothing left but an empty plastic bag and a trail of blood coming from his nose.

Yet it's not enough. Matty is still craving more, even as his mind spins with the force of his high. He digs into his stash of alcohol, but he knows that won't fill the void in him either. He needs to feel something besides this loneliness, he aches to devour a substance that will fill the gaping hole inside of him that's growing wider by the second. Matty is well aware that he's fucked up enough already, but he keeps drinking anyway. He shouldn't play a show like this, but the dark side of him is almost excited to. He wants to watch the world burn while he holds the match that started it all, just to erase the feelings of abandonment he's currently struggling with.

Nothing matters anymore; not the music, not his career, not himself. He just wants to be somewhere else - or maybe someone else. He can't keep being Matty, not without George, and George has left him, so he has nothing left. The logical part of Matty is pleading with the rest of him to call George, to find out if they still have a chance of repairing things, to beg for him to return, but his pride won't let him. He can take a hint, George had left him without a word after all, and if that's not a rejection, Matty doesn't know what is.

A dry laugh leaves his mouth when Matty reminisces on how he got here, which - honestly, he doesn't really know how it happened. He can clearly recall grieving the loss of Gemma not too long ago, but now he's falling apart all over again over someone else, but no...George isn't just another lover, he's so much more than that. He's everything to Matty, his rock, his solace, his - fuck, Matty doesn't know, but he does know he can't live without George, and yet he's successfully driven him away thanks to his horrible habits and his inability to be honest with himself without a foreign substance flowing through his veins.

Matty has ruined everything despite his best intentions, and he is well aware of that. He tried to stay clean, to be what George deserves, to morph himself into the person who would be worthy of George, but he's failed. He can never be that sort of person, he's proven that over and over again, but yet he has no idea how to continue on without George by his side. He's fucked no matter what he does, so Matty no longer cares about being responsible. So he drinks until showtime, not even bothering to unlock his phone which is vibrating constantly with messages from everyone except the one he's hoping to appear.

Still, Matty feels the need to perform though. If he has anything left, it's his persona, his stage presence, so he drags himself to his feet with a monumental effort of will. He feels like a modern-day Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, or at the very least, the hopes of the thousands of people in this stadium. They came to see him, and although he might have let everyone else in his life down, he doesn't want to add his fans to that list.

~~~

The walk to the stage is ice-filled, that's how Matty recalls it. It's winter after all, and for some reason, this place has the air-con blasting in the hallways as well. The second he hits backstage though, everything is heat and warmth. He immediately unbuttons his shirt, becoming the Matty Healy everyone excepts of him even though he wishes he could hide in the confines of the floral fabric instead of exposing himself so intimately.