Chapter Four - That's All I Have to Say

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8th of October, 2015


Despite their best attempts to stay in touch, eventually busy schedules got the better of the both of them. They'd texted a bit initially after their night at the bar, but as soon as Matty was on tour, time differences made it difficult to keep up any form of routine. However, she knew that he'd be back in London soon enough. Surely that would be their time to catch up. She reached out to him in January when she knew he was back, hoping for the best, but his schedule was too packed between press for the album, shows and trying to see family and friends that he was obligated to catch up with whenever he was at home. So, she dropped it. And eventually, communication stopped. Her career started escalating at a much quicker pace than what it had before. The two guys who ran the usual morning peak hour shift went on to do their own thing, which left the prime-time slot open for application. She had considered applying, but before she'd even filled out the forms the station asked her directly if she wanted the position. They'd seen how much of a positive reaction she was getting on her show, it would make sense for her to fill that spot. Of course, she took it - it would be insane not to. The pay was much the same as what she was already on, but the chances for bigger and better shows at that hour were endless.

 

Matty was also on his own rollercoaster of a career. The 1975 was only getting more and more popular as their debut album began reaching all corners of the planet. What they had expected wasn't going to go much further than their circle of close friends, was suddenly spreading to places they couldn't have even dreamed. They toured and interviewed and did meet and greets non-stop to try and keep the hype going. It wasn't until they started properly discussing a second album release that Matty finally had to stop for a moment and take a (small) breather. He needed the time to work out what he wanted their next step to be. Once the band had the majority of the album planned out, and a few songs properly sorted, they figured it was time to start releasing some material. And in an incredibly convenient turn of events, they found themselves back at home while they were looking for a way to debut their lead track. So, what better way to get their new material out there than to broadcast it live across national radio? Of course, Matty had been pretty quick to suggest where they should do that.


It had been over two years since he'd last been on her show. Both of them were acutely aware of that as he knocked on the glass door the morning of the interview. She hadn't been keeping up with the band's trajectory as much as what she had in the past, mainly for simply not having the time to. Which meant that his new look came as a slight surprise. His hair looked like he'd been letting it grow out much longer than what she'd seen on him previously. He was currently trying to tame this mop of unruly curls by having them tied back in a bun. His jeans had a big enough chunk of denim missing from them that she would've thought they'd deserve to be discounted for how much fabric was missing. He was wearing a floral button-up shirt, but she suspected that the buttons clearly didn't get much use for how few of them he had done up now, his chest tattoo almost on full display. And this seemed to be in contradiction to the obscenely heavy woollen coat that was over the top of it. As he pulled her in for a tight hug, she found herself suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of stale cigarettes and wine. She hesitantly hugged him back, hoping that the scent wouldn't linger on her own clothes.

"What's with the shades?" She asked as he moved back, eyeing the sunglasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. It made sense for him to wear them on his way here, but she wasn't sure if he was aware that he was still wearing them inside the studio.

"Hungover." He answered with a shrug. She just nodded, supposing that it was a Saturday, it would make sense for him to have been out last night.

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