four alarm fire // matty healy

LIVE THE WEEKEND

We went up to the top floor, then a convoluted set of halls, Matty's hand in a vice-grip the entire time. The labyrinth led us to a heavy door, with the fluorescent red "EXIT" sign above it. 

"Surprise number three." Matty's voice was throaty as he leaned in to whisper to me before he leaned back on the latch to unveil the building's patio. It was illuminated with small incandescent bulbs that mimicked the stars on the dark sky above us. They led up to the dainty bistro set holding two cloches and a single bottle of wine.

"After you," he said as he placed his jacket on my shoulders.

"Thank you, Matty." He pulled a seat out for me, then walked to the other side of the table. "This is absolutely beautiful."

We looked out at the city. It was much different at the top, but it was still grand. Vast. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it was the same city that was ruining my life and my sanity for so many years. I couldn't fathom that through all the chaos and grief, I was at peace. It was almost like a rebirth, but much less soul search-y. 

"Now," I said, turning back to my date. "What is on the menu? I'm dying to see the reveal."

"Well," he said, "it's not a super posh meal, though, so you've been warned. I've also got a little side dish we can share."

Matty's grin didn't falter as he pulled out take-away containers. I opened one of the box closest to me: pita and a small tub of hummus.

"And I've got some falafel pita sandwiches - they're both from this really good place down the street."

It was a postcard photo - the two of us, in semi-fancy dress, in front of the glittering city, eating the best Middle Eastern street food I've ever had.

"How did you find this place?" I asked. The falafel was full of flavour and spice, which paired well with a tzatziki-like spread. Besides the drips down my chin, it was perfect.

"My dad took me to it last year on my birthday." He dunked a piece of pita in the hummus and stuffed it into his mouth. "It was so good, I just kept going back."

"I see, I see," my mouth was full when I answered or I would have said something more.

"This is, like, the best take-away I've ever had." He stressed the word 'the' to make is seem more like 'theee'. Or at least my top five, but that's if I really think about it."

"I understand why," I covered my lips with my hand. "It's amazing!"

We continued to eat, talking about nothing in particular. We got onto the topic of childhood bedrooms halfway through about our sandwiches.

"Well," Matty began. "My bedroom looked like an absolute mess half the time. My mum would always come in a wave a finger at me." He mimicked her and wagged his hand at me. He spoke with a high-pitched voice, "Matthew Healy, you've better pick all this stuff off the floor and then do your schoolwork or you won't get any sweets tonight."

I laughed at him when he placed his 'mother hand' on his hip. "Then I would say: 'I hate schoolwork!' and then she'd respond with 'There's no homework in Hell!' or something like that."

"Yikes, I never had anyone like that, Isaac and I kept the room pretty clean."

"'The' room?" He gulped some water. "You rented a room?"

"No, it was ours." I chuckled.

"But it wasn't 'your' room?" He was getting a bit nosy.

"It was, but I just never knew when we'd have to leave, I guess. I had a wall of stolen papers from library books and I never adhered them to the wall. Instead, I threaded a string through the top of the pages and stuck the string to the wall. So, just in case we had to evacuate, I could take them all really quickly." I folded the tissue into my take-away box, then glanced at Matty, who had an unusual look upon his face.

"Why would you need to evacuate?"

"In case someone found us. I was always told that we could be discovered if we got sloppy with heists."

"Do you guys just live in fear the whole time?" He was shocked now, and becoming very nosy.

"No," I shrugged it off, "But did your room look like? Besides messy."

Matty rolled his eyes, took out his tissue and a ball-point pen. He drew a rectangle and then started to doodle things around the edges. He narrated everything.

"See, I had my Stones poster on this wall and then my Radiohead poster on this wall. I drew this still from the movie Weird Science, you know, that one with the nerdy guys building this hot robot to date? I always thought that was a good movie, but the sketch was absolutely terrible." He scrawled some more, keeping his head down low, "and over here I had a closet, next to my desk, then my bed was in the corner."

"That's really cool, I've never seen Weird Science, so we'll have to watch it together sometime." He lowered his pen and looked at me. 

"I'd like that very much." I was brave, for one moment for the past year. I reached for his hand resting on the table. He felt so warm like a cozy blanket or a cup of coffee. I never wanted to let go. I couldn't remember what life was like before I held his hand because it was such a comfort. Like a letter from an old friend. We couldn't stop smiling. I even let out a small giggle. The soft feeling reached my stomach and encompassed my whole body. I wondered if Matty felt warm life I did.

"Can we watch it tonight?" I asked.

He laughed this time, a real goofy one. He was trying to keep his voice calm, but his heart was beating through his fingers, "yes, that sounds really fun."