/ / I T T A K E S A B I T M O R E / /
A string of curses leave my mouth the moment I spot him. This is insane and beyond coincidence anymore. He doesn't spot me yet, the glass barrier between us doesn't really save me though. Adam sees me. He raises his eyebrow and I make a motion for him not to say anything before I duck down to hide behind the opaque portion of the wall.
"Bit like déjà vu," Anna says as she slides in and sits next to me. We both are clearly supposed to be doing some type of work, either fixing up some records or dusting some photo frames or helping Jimmy DJ or something, but here we are, hiding from Matty Healy (and Adam Hann) once again.
"Yea," I mumble, "except I knew nothing about him last time he was in the studio."
"Now you know how big his – "
"Anna!" I say a bit too loudly when I slap her hands. She chuckles and leans back against the wall. She's on some Rihanna level with her outfit, high waisted shorts, see through crop top and some Jordan's. Her long hair tumbles over her shoulders, obscuring the view of her chest. "Are you wearing a bra?"
She rolls her eyes, "when do I ever?" I shrug. She gazes over my outfit, nearly similar to hers, except I do have on a bra, I'm wearing a high waisted skirt and some heels. My outfit might be on point but I'm sure my face looks like I've been through war, bags under my eyes large enough to carry books. It was hard to fall asleep last night after Matty's last few texts. Anna nods her head approvingly at my clothes, opening her mouth to say something, but its cut off.
"What are you staring at, Hann?" It's Matty who speaks and I cringe.
It's my boss, Jimmy, who answers, "Probably one of the kids, were they making faces at you?" Jimmy calls us the kids, mostly because we're all under the age of twenty one and sometimes we do act childish. My heart stammers and my stomach tightens. I grab Anna's hands and pray that Jimmy doesn't call us in for anything.
"You let kids here?" Adam asks before saying, "No, I thought I recognized...this girl with green eyes and a wicked smile." He laughs at his own joke and Matty complains.
Jimmy is oblivious to what they're talking about, "Marcy is the only one I can think of with green eyes – oh maybe you met her yesterday, I think her and Jamie were at your concert last night." Matty must have been drinking something because he's suddenly spluttering and coughing and Adam is laughing like it's the funniest thing in the world. Jimmy laughs too, mostly out of informality, feeling odd that he doesn't get their jokes and he calls out my name and I'm shrinking down, "Can we get some napkins and some water, love?"
"You go," I shove at Anna, "Tell them I've died."
She scrunches her nose, "When do I ever do work willingly?"
"If you had a dick, I'd suck it," I amend.
She lets out a whistle, "You're all sorts of slutty this week, huh?" and I shrug because there's no point of denying it. She gets up, straightening her shirt and her shorts and fixing her hair, grabbing a roll of paper towels on the table in front of us and a bottle of water before walking to the door and entering the studio where the interview was being held.
"You're not Marcy," Jimmy jokes, but says thank you anyway.
"Marcy died," she says dutifully. "Are you alright?" she asks Matty, most likely. If he remembers her as being my leggy friend, then he doesn't say anything.
"Yeah," he says after a bit spluttering, "just went down the wrong way, love, no worries."
"Marcy died?" Jimmy asks.
"Ah, yes...she overdosed on...um, Redbull."
"Redbull," Jimmy asks as if Anna was his kid and he was playing along to what ever story she was making up...it wasn't far from the truth. "Why was she drinking Redbull? She's already hyper as it is." and I can feel Anna crack under his inquisition.
"I don't now, Jonathon Lee, stop asking me questions!" she says tersely and stomps out of the room. She goes the opposite way from me and I faintly hear Jimmy mumble that his name isn't Jonathon Lee, it's James Lee.
I crawl away until I'm far enough that they can't see me and I haul over to one of the sound check rooms, Jamie was setting up. "Are they singing live, here?" I ask, trying not to let despair coat my voice.
He looks up, taking one side of the headphones he had on off. He grins at me, "I was just listening to the show – you died, huh?"
I frown, "Why didn't you tell me they were doing an interview today?"
"Slipped my mind." He gives me a once over, "you seem more antsy than yesterday..." He turns on the spinny chair and opens his arms wide, "come tell uncle Jamie your problems." I frown but make my way over to him, snatching one side of his earpiece and taking a seat on his lap while he wraps his arm around my waist. I place the earpiece in my ear, torturing myself by listening in on the radio show. I'm thankful that Jimmy put on music, but I wish it wasn't "Chocolate."
"Do you ever think this is the reason why Brian doesn't like you?" I ask actually reigning in on how we might look to an outsider.
"It's a lot less than what he was doing," Jamie mutters. I choose to ignore it and launch into everything that had happened last night, from the kissing to the talking, to the texting, to "He said 'nothing'?" Jamie said, astounded. "That's foul. Doesn't mean you shouldn't break up with Brian, I don't know why you're stringing him along."
I frown, "What do you mean?" My heart drops, "Hasn't he been stringing me along? Fucking all of my so-called friends behind my back? What did I do? Hook up with a celebrity? Don't I get a hall pass or something like that?"
Jamie rolls his eyes, tightening his hold on me when I try to get up. "Marcy, babe, just because he's doing it to you, doesn't mean you have to do it to him." I know he's right, but despite everything, with Brian I have more stability, with Matty I have...god, I don't know what I have. The truth is, I don't know anything outside of Brian. He had been my only romantic relationship and I didn't want to start from scratch again. I didn't even know if I could. I hear the doorknob turning and the suddenness releases Jamie's hands from me. Their voices are enough to let me know that Matty and Adam are ready for their live performance. I feel like a deer caught in headlights when the door opens.
Jimmy glances around before seeing how I'm sat on Jamie's lap, "did Christmas come early or..."
I turn to Jamie, placing my arm around his neck, momentarily forgetting Matty and Adam, just spiting Jimmy, "Well, Santa, for this year, I'd like – "
"A stable relationship?" Jamie smiles up at me and I scowl.
"Brian, right?" Jimmy asks as he leads the guys to set up. "You still with him? Haven't seen him around much, actually." He turns to me, a frown on his face. Jimmy was tall, maybe around 6 feet, but his quiffed up hair makes him seem even taller. He's got these amber colored eyes and laugh lines crinkling them. He's got the straightest teeth ever and I think he used to be in dental ads or something. He's fairly young, but he does love to father us. "Anna told me you died – also, you're banned from Redbull."
I open my mouth to retaliate, but he shakes gives me hard glower, playfully, but still effective. "Yes dad," I mutter.
"Don't call him that," Jamie says, "He's got a huge Daddy kink," and that sets me back to something Matty had said last night. He catches my eyes from where he's now seated, guitar in hand and headphones around his head. He winks at me and I blush, and for a little bit, I forget that I'm trying to avoid him.
It's been less than a week since we had met, but everyday, it seems that while somehow we get closer, we end up taking a step or two back the next day, before moving forward again.
Jamie and Jimmy are bickering, Jimmy threatening to fire him like he does every week. It's amusing but I can't bring myself to join in. "What song are you singing for us?" Jamie asks suddenly too loud, and I realize we're on air now. I take the headphone out of my ear, handing it back to Jamie as he fondles with some faders beside him.
"One called 'You'," Matty says, staring at me, and oh. He remembered. My cheeks go warm and I avoid eye contact. Jamie places his arms around me again, rather than holding me like last time, he's trapping me instead. He wants me to hear the song, he wants me to suffer.
Jimmy grabs a seat next to us as we stare as Adam and Matty start strumming their guitars to a very familiar melody. I want to look away but his eyes are holding me in the next time we lock gazes. He has a smirk tainting his lips and I've learned that there's no escaping him.
I stay until the session ends and then I'm the first one out the door. I've pickpocketed Jamie's car keys and now I'm sat in the driver side of the silver car, staring ahead because where was I to go anyway. I find my phone and play around with it.
I know Matty told me that nothing would change if I break up with Brian, but it's only been a few days and I'm crashing under the pressure. I idly wonder how Brian has done this for years. I take a deep breath and dial his number, the guilt eating me up and I want to hang up but there's no turning back when he answers.
"Marcy," he breathes out like he's been waiting for me.
"Brian," I can't help the slight tremor in my voice and I find that I really miss him, stupid as it is. "Hi," I say.
"Marcy, I didn't – the other day; it was a mistake, I'm so sorry." I don't know if he's lying or not, it's hard to read him over the phone. "I booked a ticket – I'm coming back, I was stupid to even leave," He admits.
"No," I tell him, leaning back on the seat and closing my eyes, "Don't. don't bother. I think it's time we break up; for real this time."
He sounds devastated on the other line, a lot of "I can fix this, you know I can, I always do, I-"
"You shouldn't," I say, my voice thick and my eyes stinging, "You shouldn't have to fix these things, Bri. There shouldn't be anything to fix."
"Marceline, please don't do this, it was a mistake, I just...I missed you, Marcy – when you called, yes, she was there with me, but I promise nothing happened; the night before I stopped her before anything could happen, I made her go to sleep; she was drunk and I couldn't do that to her – to you. I didn't mean to call you, to yell at you or make you think that I was cheating." I don't want to listen to him, but I cant help but believe the earnestness in his voice. "You just accused me and I let you – it hurts to know that you don't trust me, but I understand why – please don't do this over the phone Marcy," he says. He inhales before finally saying, "At least, let me see you, you can tell me to my face."
"Brian –"
"Please?" And I think that maybe he deserves that much if anything at all so I give in, "Thank you Marc. I love you, just know that, okay?" He hangs up and I know he's not lying. Maybe he does love me, or he did, but it's different now, its not the same, its more obligatory and guilt than genuine sentiment.
I toss my phone in the back seat, cursing myself for letting this all drag out. I turn on the radio in the car noting that the interview segment is over and its just "commercial free" music playing. I lower the dial until it's but a low hum.
It's a few minutes later, I'm still in the car park, when there's a knocking on the window. I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes, I don't remember the ten minutes that had passed. I think its either Jamie or Anna, ready to go home, but to my surprise, though it shouldn't have been at all, it's Matty Healy holding up a can of Redbull.
I tilt my head to the passenger side and open the lock for him. He slides in handing me a Redbull, "I know you're banned, but I'm a bit of a rebel," he jokes.
"You're an asshole." I take the drink from him anyway.
"Is that how you greet me now? I liked it better when you were babbling that my album was the best album ever." I turn to stare at him and he reaches his thumb up to swipe under my eye, "have you been crying?"
"No," I lie. "Thanks for playing that song, by the way."
He smiles softly, hands slipping from my face as he leans back against the window, still facing me, "I remembered you said it was your favorite."
I smile and look away, staring out the window, I wish it would rain, at least then I'd have something to look at. I hold the silver can of Redbull in my hands, "how'd you find me?"
He shrugs, "Jamie told me. He told me to tell you he doesn't want his car debauched."
I roll my eyes, "Why, though?"
"I suppose he doesn't want your bodily fluids on his nice silver car."
I whip my head at him, "What? No, oh my god, Matty – I saw you changed your twitter name by the way – but I meant you; why did you want to find me?"
He laughs, "Can't stay away I guess. Bad habit. Can you roll down the window?" I roll it down for him as he gets out a lighter and cigarette.
"You said nothing would change – if I broke up with Brian."
"Look at us, Marcy," He places the cigarette between his lips and flicks the lighter on, holding the flame to the end of the stick, effectively lighting it. "I've known you for what, three, four days? Look at how we're acting, honestly what could possibly change?" He exhales a bit of smoke out of the car window. "Why? Did you break up with him?"
I play with the tab on the top of the can, "No...not exactly." I don't really elaborate, "But if I did then, we...I guess...never mind." I slump back into my seat, crossing my legs and picking at my skirt.
I can feel his stare on me; I can hear him run a hand through his hair. "No. Tell me."
"It's stupid." I open the can and take a sip.
"That we'd what? Be a couple?" and I don't think he means it to come out sardonically, but it does, and it hurts a bit. No of course we wouldn't be a couple. He's Matty Healy and I'm just some seventeen-year-old girl with a slight obsession. "It takes a bit more," he mumbles. It's too quiet after that and he's smoked the cig to the filter before tossing it out the window. I sigh and stretch out, arching my back against the seat. "You look pretty today."
His compliment startles me, "Thank you."
He grabs my hand, "Come here," he tugs my fingers and I place the Redbull in the cup holder before climbing over with his help. I rest my head against the window on his side, sitting side ways with his arms wrap around my midsection, fingers caressing where my top reveals my skin, and my legs draping over the console and touching the driver's seat.
He bends down and presses his lips to mine, hot and quick. "You have some serious bipolar issues," I mutter, gripping his shirt. "Where's Adam?"
"Did you want a threesome?" Matty asks, his hands spanning over my stomach, warm and seeping heat into my pores, "He went back to the hotel." His hands slide down my legs, calloused fingers tracing down my thighs then back up, slipping under my skirt. I want his hand to go higher, but it just stays on my thighs, heat probably leaving red marks on my skin.
I tilt my head so that it's resting on his chest now, "You confuse me."
He adjusts so he's leaned back now, more comfortable as he rests his head back and closes his eyes. I close my eyes too, his irregular heart beat pumping into my ears, his hand coming to wrap around my shoulders while his other stays planted on my thigh. "Yeah," he says softly, almost regrettably, "me too." And I'm not sure whether he means that I confuse him or he confuses himself.
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Hi, quick question, what's your favorite song from The 1975 or what song would you like featured in the story? Mine Is You, incase anyone hadnt picked up on that lol