A/N: Hope you all are enjoying this :) This is one of the first few chapters where you'll see a lot of changes. I hope you dig them because I think they make it better and more believable. Let me know what you think!
Traffic was a bitch.
Cars filed themselves in endless lines, red lights appearing one after another, with no relief in sight. By the time Rylee was parked and able to walk up to Echo, she felt mentally and physically exhausted. Any thoughts of being nervous or awkward were long suppressed by irateness and the desire to be anywhere but behind the wheel.
She slammed the car door, ignoring the concerned looks of those nearby, and stomped over to the arena. It was like any arena, really. Large. Bustling. Surrounded by more teenage girls than one could count on their hands. Rylee had underestimated just how many there would be, in all her anger. She had thought maybe a few dozen would be waiting to get in, but not the hundreds that sat camped out and wrapped around the building. Never that many. That was a sight to break through any emotion, especially anger, and leave one gobsmacked.
The feeling lingered as she followed the crowd around the building, desperate to find its end. She was not sure it would ever end the longer she walked. It could be considered a mob with those numbers. A large, young, enthusiastic yet very intimidating mob. She was not sure if she should be concerned or impressed by the thought they may all be there for Matty.
Concern was what she decided by the time she got to the front of the line. Resting there were people who looked so exhausted, there was no way they could have been there for less than a day. Their tents said just about as much, too. She almost dared ask the people why, why they believed this was all worth it for some guys, when she caught sight of the person she was there to meet. Mr. large, bearded, and important.
He was accompanied by another large man, equally as terrifying, dressed in matching black, and ready to kick her ass at a moment's notice. They both looked down at her and frowned. Rylee shrunk back, hyperaware of just how out of place she was.
"You need something, miss?" Mr. Beard's voice was thick and enough to strike fear in anyone, especially a smaller girl like herself. Rylee swallowed and ran a nervous hand through her hair to force herself to relax.
"Matty sent me."
They both stared back, unfazed. Quite bold of her to think things would be that easy. She took a deep breath.
"Erm, my name is Rylee Pateray, if that matters."
Apparently, it did. Something seemed to click in the bearded man just then. Sending a silent command with his eyes to the other guard, he pushed the door behind him open and motioned for Rylee to follow. It was an instant attention grabber to the sleepy crowd at the front. They all watched with wide-eyes and the simmering jealousy only fandom could bring as she did as commanded and made her way inside, ducking through the heavy black door. She could only imagine how frustrated their poor souls would be upon finding out how little she knew the band they had waited so long to see. They all probably deserved to be the VIP she was ten times over. Guilt began to well up in her gut, but she managed to somehow push forth with it.
Pull yourself together, girl.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lower lighting inside. She was in a long hallway, and a quiet one at that. It was made of white cinderblocks and dotted with images of past concerts all the way down the hall. The bearded guard allowed her to stop and explore the photos for a minute or two. She examined them all as much as she could until he cleaned his throat and finally beckoned her to follow him once more. This time, their journey led Rylee to a room. This room was much easier to adjust to, but far more terrifying than the hall. It was marked with a paper displaying the words 'The 1975' in bold, dark black lettering.
"This is where Matty told me to bring you," he told her after a moment, startling her ever so slightly out of her head. "It's their dressing room. I believe they'll still be in soundcheck for a bit, so feel free to make yourself at home. And let me know if anyone gives you a hard time, okay? I'm under orders to help."
Rylee scrunched up her brow. "Orders? From who?"
"Matty."
Oh.
"Sorry to run, but I've gotta head back to the door. Remember, don't hesitate if you need something. I'm busy as hell, but not neglectful."
With a courteous nod her way, the guard left. Rylee waited until she heard the familiar click of the back door shutting at the end of the hall before actually turning to face the door in front of her. It was just a door with a piece of paper on it. Nothing more. So why did it scare her so much then? Why was she getting so anxious and worked up over a door, a piece of paper, and a guy who had been a bit of an ass to her the day before? Surely, all of this was not worth that, right? Right?
Huffing, Rylee wedged open the door.
It was more spacious than she had expected. That much she thought at first about the room she entered. Multiple couches and a mini bar managed to fit itself inside while still leaving enough room to move around and not crash into anything. Not many rooms could say that much. Her old room back when she was a little girl definitely could not. She had been lucky to fit a bed there, let alone enough couches to build that bed five times over.
Rylee's second thought led her to the fact that, what the room made up for in spaciousness, it lacked heavily in cleanliness. Strewn across the wooden tabletop in the center of the couches were old cigarette buds and food wrappers. Not just a few, either - a pile. It might have been the most distracting issue had it not been for the discarded clothing everywhere. Colorful attire covered the couches and ground. Rylee wondered if they would ever get picked up, or if they simply followed Matty's crew wherever they went like a massive tornado trail of linen. Chuckling to herself, she reached down to pick up a thick red coat she saw lying on the floor and inspect it. It was one of the few items of clothing that looked too good to be on the ground where someone could mess with it. Sure enough, one glance at the tag confirmed as much. Gucci.
Before she could gawk or quip about the coat more, the door behind her flung open with a bang. Rylee jumped and dropped the fabric immediately, recoiling as if it were a hot stove. Apologies formed on her lips for being so nosey. Part of her imagined it to be the guard from before entering and checking on her. Part of her also pictured a stage hand running in to pick up one of the many items in the room for the band. It would not surprise Rylee, standing among the piles, that something of worth might have been left behind.
Nothing in her ever imagined, though, for it to be Matty unmistakably crying.
He must have thought himself alone in that moment. That was all that could explain the way he stumbled in, mid-sob, head thrown into his arm in a vain attempt to hide what emotion he showed. No man, no person was ever willingly that emotional or vulnerable for all to see. It was entirely too personal for anyone to see. And yet, Rylee had a front row seat to it.
Unable to stop herself, she gasped.
Two brown eyes peered into hers for a moment frozen in time, only to cower away from them seconds later.
Rylee had never felt more like an intruder in her life.
"Shit, Matty, I'm so sor-"
"No, no don't...don't say nothing." Matty wiped at his face to get rid of the tears there. It was no use, as anyone could see the tracks they left and the redness in his eyes, but Rylee did not dare say that. Nothing could make her say that then.
"Are...are you okay?"
It was as vain an ask as Matty's prior coverup. The bottle he found from behind the minibar had his attention captured way better than her question ever could. She watched him throw his head back and take a shockingly long swig of it. It had to burn. All of her past experiences with liquor told her it did. Yet, Matty still went for it. It was not until he paused to take a breath and tried to go for a second sip that she dared take matters into her own hands to recapture his attention. Daring, she snatched the bottle from his grasp.
Her heart broke at how little he fought her.
"Okay, so you're clearly not. Message received."
Matty shook his head and cast his gaze elsewhere. Rylee swore she heard another sniffle. "Forget it. It's fine. I'm fine."
Rylee frowned and set the bottle beside her. "I'm no rockstar, so I don't know how you lot usually roll, but I really don't think think it's common for your type to storm in crying and down the nearest whole bottle of...fucking hell, vodka? How are you not dead?"
He laughed in spite of himself. "Brilliant question."
"Matty."
"Look love," he said as he stood, "I'm not really in the mood to explain right now."
"Hey, I'll let calling me love pass if you tell me."
This got another laugh out of him, this time more genuine. He shuffled over to the couch opposite Rylee in the room and flung himself down, his eyes falling shut the moment he could finally spread out and lay. Rylee followed him at a distance, opting to sit down gently on the table. She waited patiently for him to look at her. It took him a few minutes, but eventually their eyes met. There was no mistaking the pain in both sets.
"Bad memory, 's all," he spoke, voice coarse and dry. "I forget I write those into songs sometimes. Hurts like a bitch to remember."
"I'm sorry."
"Nah, I'm the one who should be sorry," he mumbled. "Here I invite you, a gorgeous lass like yourself, to come see how cool my job is, and the first thing you see of it is me crying like a loser. So much for that."
"There's no need to apologize," Rylee offered, choosing to defer his compliment for the time being. "I've cried plenty of times over music. The best kind of songs get you that way. It's far from something to be ashamed of."
Matty let out a slow breath. "Suppose so. I'm going to have to tell the boys to cut that one from the setlist tonight. I'm okay with them seeing me like this, and I suppose I don't have a choice with you anymore, but...I don't want my fans seeing this. They'd understand, but I don't want it. Not tonight."
Rylee nodded. As if she had any say in the matter. "What's it about? The song, I mean. If you don't mind me asking."
She watched his face fall further into sadness, feeling the familiar cloud of guilt hit her gut. "A much darker time in my life."
"As in...?"
"Fuck, can't you just be satisfied with that?" At Rylee's recoil, Matty frowned. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. Fuck, you didn't deserve that."
"No, no, I pried," she reassured, though Matty remained torn up. She really felt for him then, despite knowing so little about him. She should have never asked more of him, not in the state he was in. "Do...do you want me to leave?"
"No." Matty looked surprised at how desperate his voice sounded. "Stay here. If you want, I mean. I'm shit company, but it's not fair to ruin your time. Look...actually, want to...er...grab a change in scenery?"
"Now? Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said, though the shake in his voice hardly said as much. "C'mere, we're gonna show you something better than this. Follow me."
She should have said no. She should have insisted he stay, clean himself up, maybe meditate on things for a bit until he found peace. Anything other than force himself out and his emotions down. However, Rylee felt a budding curiosity in what lied past the door with a paper on it. She supposed it had to do with the fact the prospect of his plan seemed to soothe Matty. Or, perhaps it was her lingering need to not intrude beckoning her to leave what had been such a private space for literally anything else. Either way, she did it, and Matty wasted no time whisking them away.
They ventured down another long hallway. This one winded all the way until a large warehouse-like space came into view. Matty turned to Rylee and urged her to prepare herself as they navigated around the equipment and dimly lit space there. No amount of preparation could have prepared Rylee, though, for the large arena space she met at the end. Rows and rows of seats and lights filled her view. Lights, brighter than she had ever seen them, shone on their faces in an array of colors. It was breathtaking. She felt breathless.
"This is one of the more fun places we perform at," Matty explained, admiring the space. "In about thirty minutes, picture it to the brim with fans going mental."
"You sold it out?"
He grinned. Rylee swore the old Matty, the one she saw at the bar, threatened its way past the old tears in that grin. "Wicked, huh?"
"How the hell have I never heard of you guys before?"
"You're not the first, nor the last," he quipped. "But hey, now you've seen loads more than most of those kids. Consider yourself indoctrinated."
"They'd probably hate me if they saw me now."
"Probably."
Rylee wasted no time sending Matty a scowl. He laughed. "You're pretty cute when you're annoyed. Did you know that?"
She had half a mind to slap him. But, then she stopped and really saw his smile. That was a full smile. A good smile. A smile she felt he needed, darn him. As much as she wanted to fire back something to take it away and regain the upper hand, she resisted. He looked appreciative, deep down beyond that cocky persona.
Such a look came just in time. From just offstage, the Brian/Heath guy came bounding over to meet them. He paid little mind to Rylee's presence, or the fact she stood with her hand still firmly in Matty's. Frankly, she was grateful. Interacting with anyone at that moment might have been what sent her overboard. Too much emotional whiplash for one day. Still, she wondered if she would ever be noticed by the tree of a man. Seriously, was he like six-foot-ten?
"You good to get back at it, Matty?"
Matty gave a weak smile and nodded. Rylee could tell with one look that his friend did not buy it one bit but was too nice to say it. She felt for him. "Yeah, just needed a sec. We'll probably have to cut that one tonight, if that's alright. Related, remind me, did we get through Medicine? I'd love to play it for my friend here but can't bloody track shit at the moment."
"We haven't," he replied, messy-ing up his hair. It gave Matty's a run for its money, all that curly fluff. She bet it felt soft. "Did that number in its place, but I'll let the lads know things changed." He seemed to suddenly take in Rylee in that moment and frowned, hurrying to hold out his hand. It was rather endearing, in a goofy sort of way. Rylee smiled. "Sorry doll, don't think we've met. The name's George. I play the drums and keep Matty company. Both're full time jobs."
Rylee shook his hand with a giggle. "I'm Rylee. It's nice to formally meet you, George."
"You've got yourself a really polite friend here," George noted, tossing a wink Matty's way. "Don't corrupt her too much, yeah? She's nice. I'd like for that to last a bit."
"Oi, cool it."
"That's really sweet of you to say, George. Don't worry, though," she said with her own wink, "I'm not afraid of kicking a man in the balls if he needs to be put in his place. Corruption is the least of my worries."
George let out a low whistle. "Shit, you're in for it, mate. She's gonna have your ass on a platter at this rate."
Matty cocked his hip to the side, raising his eyebrows in displeasure. "Can we quit it about my ass and perform the song already? I'd like to at least try and be a little bit impressive before you knock me down a peg."
"Hard to be in that getup of yours, mate."
"I swear to God, G-"
"Okay, okay, I don't want to be the cause of two murders," Rylee said, chuckling at the two as they stood ready to ring each other's necks. "George, I'm flattered that you're impressed with my ability to take down weak men. Matty, I'd love to hear the song, if it's not too much trouble. There, we all happy?"
George and Matty stared at each other as if the other were seconds away from brotherly war, but soon, they parted to do what they needed to do. George went off to go find the others in the band, and Matty took center stage. Rylee watched from down below as he gripped the mic and looked around the soon-to-be-crowded arena. He looked so small in comparison, yet so commanding at the same time. She wondered what his brain was thinking, taking all that in after something apparently so traumatic. He had to be reeling on some level.
"What?"
She blinked at Matty, who now stood watching her and only her. Shit, caught. "Hmm?"
"You're staring."
"Am I? I didn't see any staring. Nope. Not a bit."
Matty shook his head, ruffling his curls in the process. They fell back in his face with an ungraceful swoosh. Rylee hoped it was enough to block her embarrassment even a little. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"
"I don't know a single thing at all, I'm afraid."
He smiled.
The following moments after this exchange led Rylee to what Matty called the front and center seat, otherwise known as the best seat in the room. He claimed he shared this knowledge so that she could, in fact, know something. Rylee thought it was more to show off and distract them both from earlier. Either way, she came to learn that that spot was the best to hear him vocally unfiltered and raw. It also, he explained, was one of the few places he could always see the person below him. Something about the way the lights hit and the microphone was set made it so. Rylee heard him curse himself for not saving the spot for her. He was off ensuring the rest of the band was ready to perform by the time it sunk into her mind what he meant by that, though. When it did, she felt warm.
The beautiful cityscape that appeared behind Matty matched the feeling perfectly.
For the first time, as he went to start playing his guitar in tandem with the entrancing melody echoing through the speakers, Rylee caught a glimpse of the guy all the rows of fans were there to see. The guy Lynn had mentioned being amazing 'in his element.' It was baffling how easily he slipped into his part as a star. He grew so effortlessly confident. Dashing. Beautiful in the most masculine of ways. It was a sight that was hard to look away from, especially when cloaked in a warm orange hue.
And then came his voice.
Oh, how it was lovely. So, so lovely. It somehow managed to capture the raw vulnerability she had seen in the dressing room and ooze the it-factor every famous singer had down pat all at once. The words he sang had no doubt been said to thousands of others, but in that moment, in that arena, Rylee felt as if they were being sung only to her. He just had that effect about him. You could not help but feel intimately connected to each note. It was no wonder he cried earlier, if all songs were as stunning as this.
The song trailed off after grand crescendos into a string of twinkling melodies before the echoing silence of the arena took its hold. The room went black before lighting back up to its normal, general lighting. When it returned, it revealed an awe-filled Rylee. Matty stared back at her as if understanding all of the jumbled emotions she was yet to fully comprehend fluttering in her brain. He bent down and sat on the edge of the stage, leveling with her.
"Thoughts, love?"
"That was beautiful."
Matty grinned up at her behind his curls. Rylee could see him practically preening at the compliment. Like a cheesy kid, he could be. "What, no snide remark? I called you love, didn't I? I thought the punishment for that was clear."
"Did you write that on your own?"
Shrugging, Matty looked out over to where his friends stood talking. Something wistful took over him, something Rylee could not place. She wondered if maybe she should be looking over at the boys as well, as if they held the secrets Matty was too hesitant to place.
"I'm known to have my moments, I suppose."
"I write for school and work and couldn't come up with something that beautiful even if you paid me," she said. It pulled Matty to look back to her. Wistful turned into bashfulness. It was kind of pretty, she decided. "Seriously, that takes skill."
"You'd be surprised at how much of it is actually shit." Matty began to fidget with his shirt's cuffs. Rylee raised a brow, leading him to sigh and reach for a cigarette in his pocket. A pro, he had it lit in no time. She watched him ease out the smoke, putting up a wall yet again between them. Curiosity turned into a frown. "Look, not to sound wanky, but I don't do it trying to write for accolades or anything. I write whatever I and/or my boys feel, whatever comes to us. That one...that was a strong emotion, so it came out good. Others aren't always so strong. I couldn't tell you how any of it happened."
"Who made you feel that way, then? Who was your muse?"
This took longer for Matty to answer. He took a long inhale, blowing out with a similar gusto to him. "Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about."
"It's okay if it's an ex, I don't care. You can tell me anything," she said softly, trying to coax out an answer. The answer she craved never came, though. Matty looked too invested in his cigarette and staring out into the empty arena to care about giving it. Either that, or he did not trust her with whatever his answer would bring. Rylee's brain wandered and wondered in the silence, desperate to put together some dots on the spot.
That was, until Matty tried to offer Rylee his cigarette. It was nice to finally be acknowledged by him, beyond nice. She just wished it were with words and not cigarettes. She was fine around the things, but not the biggest fan of smoking them herself. It sucked to not be able to convey that in such a strange moment as the one they both sat in. As polite as she could, she gently declined his offer. Matty shrugged it off. Thankfully, he seemed fine with it. She hoped he was fine with it.
"I want you to have a good night tonight, you know," he spoke after a moment, kicking at the ground and scuffing the floor with his shoe. "Been rather bipolar about it all, but I don't want to stop you enjoying yourself."
"I know."
Matty let out a small huff. "You must think I'm an asshole."
"I do," she said, offering a small smile, "but there's gotta be some reason people like you, huh? Maybe you haven't done enough to make me reconsider trying to figure out why, yet."
They shared a weak smile.
"So," Rylee quipped, clasping her hands together to mark the change of subject, "where am I going to be having this good night at exactly? You never showed me."
Matty, blinking himself to life, was quick to ditch his mic for Rylee's hand. She was jogged toward the right of the stage before she could say much about it, his grip tight and enthusiasm sudden. It took some maneuvering to get off the stage, and a few close contacts that sent Rylee reeling, but she soon found herself at the end of a long row of seats with Matty holding his arms out in display. After that earned another brow raise from her, he tapped the seat nearest them. It was three rows up from the pit and right on the edge - easy to find. She quite liked the thought of that.
"It's a little shit of a view, but it's the best I could do on such short notice," he apologized. Rylee shook her head and went to sit. The view was not all that bad. Nothing like what she had before, but it was nice enough. She had been through much worse at concerts with Lynn. "We get some tickets for friends and family, you see, and I didn't use all of mine this go. You'll be near some mates of mine, if that's alright? I swear they won't bother you. They don't even know I bought the ticket."
Again, Rylee had been through much worse in the past with Lynn, so this was nothing. She nodded up at Matty, content. "It's no 'best seat in the house,' but it'll do."
A twinkle formed in his eye, followed by a tapping on the mic.
"Oi, time to get goin' mate," one of the other band members, the one with the electric guitar, sat posed on stage with his hand on his hip. Even from all the way over there, one could not mistake the sass and judgement the pose conveyed. Rylee blushed. It somehow made her feel like she was back in school, ready to be scolded by the teacher.
"Can't they wait a few more min, Hann?" Matty was much less fazed. He took the role of the challenging, unruly student in that moment, pausing to take another drag and no doubt making the situation worse. Sure enough, Hann - as Matty called him - all but confirmed this with a deep frown. Rylee sunk down in her seat. "I'm having fun here."
"Don't bring me into this!"
"Oh hush, Hann wouldn't hurt a fly."
"I'll hurt you, Matthew, if you keep this shit up and make us late."
Matty rolled his eyes and gave his guitarist the finger. "Fuck off with your facts and reason, Hann."
"Oi, no being bitchy until after the concert," George quipped into his mic, drumsticks wedged in hand. He already sounded tired, though a hint of playfulness remained in his tone. Hann turned back at him as if to scold him for his involvement, only to be cut off by Matty shouting even louder beyond him.
"That's asking too much and you know it, G!"
"I'll throw these at you."
"I'll throw you both if you don't let us start!"
Rolling her eyes, Rylee pulled out her phone and did her best to keep a low profile. Best to let the boys hash this one out and not get dragged into it anymore than she already was. To little surprise, Lynn monopolized her notification wall. Questions of what Matty was like, what seats she had, and other more invasive questions Rylee would rather never answer poured in from her in typical best friend behavior. She shook her head. She was fond of the girl, but man could she be too much. No wonder she liked Matty and his band so much.
"Love?"
Startled, Rylee looked up to see none other than the man himself. The bickering had seemed to finally cease. Matty was finally back in her court to handle. She wondered how good of a thing that was exactly as he outstretched his hand again to her. "C'mon, Hann will be pissed if I actually stay out too long. Join us backstage? Just for a bit?"
Going backstage again for a bit wouldn't be the worst thing, Rylee decided. Though the memory she made there prior was not great, visiting it again could replace it with something better. Laughter, if the other boys were involved. Maybe some alcohol or some games. Anything other than the tearful sight she first met would be great, really.
She took Matty's hand. What the hell, why not?
To her delight, the room was filled with better vibes than before. The mess remained, but now it sat accompanied by large guffaws of laughter, the hustle and bustle of boys getting ready, and some match put on the television by the bassist. Rylee watched it all in amusement off to the side. Matty joined her after a minute or two, a makeup bag in his hands. She motioned for him to hand it over. She began inspecting it the second he did.
"This all for you?"
He nodded, snatching an eyeliner pen from just beyond Rylee's hand. "Glamorous life of a rockstar, innit? Get to go onstage all dolled up. I started trying it a year or so ago and haven't felt the need to quit."
"Did you teach yourself?"
Matty shrugged. "Sort of."
"Watched countless YouTube vids while high," George chimed in.
"Sod off, you!"
Meeting eyes with Rylee, George winked. She grinned.
"Wanna watch me put it on?"
It was not as if she had anything better to do. Sitting down at the nearest couch seat, she became a patient student of his. He showed her how he managed each step, from his carefully crafted eyeliner to the subtle shimmer spread across his face. It made him look good. Better than good, really. Rylee struggled to keep her eye off him as he ditched the bag to roam about for clothing. He did not stop until finding a black blazer just to the left of Hann. Shrugging it on, he turned to her. She fought quickly to avoid meeting his eyes. The last thing she needed in this big room of teasing friends was to give them any fodder for more. Matty clearly did not get this memo, though. He whistled, quick and loud, to get her attention. The boys in the room came to attention right as she became the center of it. Dammit.
"Tie this for me, love?"
Rylee snorted, brushing off what little nerves she could and folding her arms. "Do you not know how, Mr. Rockstar?"
"Of course I know how," he whined, holding the tie out to her, "I'm piss poor at it, positively knackered already, and in need of you making me not look like shit."
"That's impossible."
"Shut, and I mean it, the bloody fuck up please and thanks, George."
"Okay, okay, don't start World War III on me here." Rylee chuckled and held up her hands in surrender. Getting up from her spot, she snatched the tie and ushered Matty to stand still. He was a perfect model as she fixed the fabric around his neck, though she swore she caught him steal a glance in their oh-so-close proximity. Typical guy. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind as soon as it appeared, choosing to focus on her work. The last thing she needed was for this night to grow even more complicated with yet another distraction. As soon as the tie was secured, she backed up and looked over her work.
She had to admit: he looked nice.
"You know you're basically indebted to me now," she quipped. Matty cocked his head to the side. "You said I'd be in for a good time, and all I'm doing is dressing you. Is that your idea of fun, Matty?"
She heard George snort across the room. "I said you'd learn about me, didn't I? Well, you learned that I can't tie a tie when it's been a long day."
"How fun."
"Rylee, you know, no one's gonna' stop you if you just choke the heck out of him right now. We won't. Might get a few words in on interviews, then.
"For fuck's sake George," Matty exasperatedly wailed, avoiding Rylee's muffled laughter, "you are on a roll today, aren't you?"
Shoving his phone into his pocket, George shrugged. "I aim to please and tell it like it is."
"Aim to be annoying, is more like it."
"Would you like some alone time to hash this shindig out, Mr. and Mrs. Daniel?"
"Don't make me kill you too, Ross," Matty countered, spinning around to point at him in frustration. Ross just laughed, not bothered in the slightest.
"And your new friend over there would be okay with that?"
"What makes you think she wouldn't take my side?"
"What makes you think she wouldn't take mine? Murder is technically illegal, you know. And you owe her for having to put up with you lot all day. We're used to it, but you're probably boring the poor bird to death."
"As much as I love being spoken about in third person while in the room," Rylee said snidely, moving to stand between the group, "I'd maybe like to weigh in for myself for a sec? Please?"
Ross, George, and Matty looked to her with guilt in their eyes. Hann just shook his head and reached for a bottle of water. Idiots.
"I actually am siding with Ross here."
While Ross cheered, Matty and George stared back, incredulous.
"Him?" Matty shook his head. "Here I am, bringing you to a whole concert and using my guest tickets on ya', and you side with HIM?"
"What about me? I made her laugh!"
"Shoosh, G."
"He's right about you lot," she noted, motioning between them. "Like an old married couple who needs counseling. That alone puts me on his side. Not to mention, I didn't even get a bloody thank you."
Ross grinned. "Ha, I like her."
Matty tossed a glare Ross' way and then turned to Rylee. There was something new in his eye, something mischievous. Rylee wondered nervously what that meant. She wondered nervously what any of this meant. He approached, stopping but a foot away.
"What, pray tell, could get you on my side?"
Rylee floundered. "Well-"
"You want a proper thank you? Is that it, then?"
This was trouble. Big trouble. Rylee grew very aware of the others, even Hann, watching her, and she knew she was in for it. She swallowed, throat dry, deathly aware of Matty's proximity and how fast her heart was pounding. She wondered if he could hear it, too.
"I want you to make up for it," she finally coughed up when the pressure in her chest grew too strong. "All of it. The bickering, the tie, the emotional whipla-"
His lips were on hers before she could take another breath.
Rylee had heard in stories the concept of the entire world stopping at once. She had seen cheesy lines about seeing things different after a kiss, or feeling like the ground crumbled beneath you upon one action that changed everything. She just never thought she would feel a moment like that. She really did not expect to enjoy it and not find it cheesy, either.
Matty's lips on her was anything but cheesy. It was soft, much softer than she had expected out of him in the back of her mind. It also was warm. So, so warm and...caring? Rylee could not fathom how he could already care for her, but he sure kissed like it. When he pulled away, she thought she saw a glimpse of it in his eyes, too. It was one of the coolest things she had seen in a while.
All she could do was mutter out a dumbfounded, "Well, that did the job."
Across the room, George let out a goofy giggle. "All I'm saying is I've lived with that bloke for years and never gotten that kind of apology, bloody hell."
Adam and Ross were the first to laugh. They were followed by Matty, giggling like a nerd and gazing over at George with a fondness that somehow made what he said less odd and more wholesome. Rylee did not know if she needed to be laughing too, or if she should give into the blush that had taken over her face.
He was such a bitch, that Matty.
"You okay there, love?"
The nerve of him to ask. "Fucking hell, Matty."
His smile returned, playful as ever. "Remember that next time you try to play my friends off me like that."
"Ross started it!"
"You agreed with him," Matty replied, reaching forward to boop her on the nose in the most disgustingly adorable way. "That was your mistake. Or, rather your first mistake was meeting George, but that's slightly unrelated and we won't dwell on that much."
Cutting off that thought, a very busy looking man walked into the room with a bunch of security behind him. He captivated all the eyes in the room, the playfulness leaving. Rylee grew rather uncomfortable standing before their gaze. She was obviously the odd one out. Any one of their eyes could tell it.
"Ten minutes to start," the main man announced. "Stage crew needs you all out just offstage for a debriefing and to get you all situated."
Everyone in the room nodded. Matty playfully gave the man a thumbs up, which the man truly did not seem to appreciate much in his frenzied state. Rylee heard George quietly laugh behind her.
"Be out soon," he warned more seriously, finally acknowledging Rylee in a stern glance. "And make sure she's where she needs to be, alright?"
She shrunk back. Matty didn't look to like it. "She'll be fine, Jamie. We'll be there."
"You better."
Giving one more look Rylee's way, the man known as Jamie walked out and shut the door behind him. When he was finally gone, Rylee turned to Matty and raised an eyebrow at him. He offered a meek smile.
"He's our manager," he explained. "Gets stressed before performances, 's all. He's alright once you get to know him."
"He thinks I'm gonna' ruin something, I can tell."
Matty seemed to brush it off, casting a glance at the door. "Yeah, well, he's just used to me bringing girls here and nearly making myself late."
Rylee's eyes softened. "You do that often? Bring girls here, I mean?"
"I-"
A harsh knock rattled at the door. "Boys, time to go!"
Matty looked to curse the man. "Alright, be right out!" He turned to Rylee, apologetic. "We'll talk later, yeah?"
"Yeah. We will."
They for sure will, she promised herself. If everything she had heard from Lynn about Matty being a ladies' man was true, she was not about to let herself catch feelings only to get burned. She needed to know where he stood behind the flashing lights and soothing voice. Where she stood. As Matty held out the door for her to leave ahead of him and his band members, she shot him a glance that said as much. He bit his lip and instructed Adam to pass him a bottle of vodka on his way out. Rylee hoped he did not finish it all tonight before that talk. She could possibly go for it, depending. Liquid courage never did her wrong.
Getting rid of the absolute shitstorm of thoughts in her mind and feelings in her heart so she could actually process everything sounded delightful the more she thought about it.
They reached the tunnel path from earlier way too quick with her fast lead. Before she could cross over it to enter the arena, though, Matty stopped her. His hand felt like fire on her arm. She turned and gave him a questioning look. It must have looked short, for his eyes conveyed guilt soon after.
"We've gotta use that to get onstage," he explained. "Use that and you'd find yourself in front of thousands, love. It's best if you follow security to your seat, okay?"
Lips pressed into a flat line, Rylee nodded. Matty saw the sour look in her eyes and sighed. "Please enjoy yourself tonight. I promise, we'll talk about whatever you like later. You can even fight me if you want. Just enjoy the concert. Enjoy the music."
Rylee looked into Matty's eyes. "You better rock my socks Matty, or else I'll kick your ass like George said I could and take immense pleasure in it."
Rylee watched as he seemed to warm up to her words. In his exhausted state, he looked relieved to see a glimpse of happiness still inside her toward him. She wondered if that was a sign he cared a bit more about her than just another girl. She wished more than anything to hear what his mind was saying.
But, it was time to go, and those thoughts had to wait to be answered. She waved gently at Matty and wished him luck before turning to follow the guards as instructed. What she missed in turning to leave so quickly was Matty staring after her, eyes not straying until George pushed him forward.
It was certainly going to be one hell of a concert.