From the outside this house looked warm and cozy. It has been built with walnut wood and had brown brick decorations. Tall, rounded windows added to the overall look of the house, it was a very asymmetric home but in a way it also looked like home: A home that wasn't hers but a home still.
The house was equipped with a small kitchen and three bathrooms, it also had a warm living room, three bedrooms, a spacious dining room, a bar and just the thought of Matty growing up there made her heart swell with something.
The house itself was surrounded by paved ground, with an outdoor eating and relaxing space and various potted plants. It sucked.
It made Frankie want to vomit because she shouldn't be there, not at all. She was stupid, an idiot, a 16 year old prudish naive girl that though somehow things wouldn't change but of course they did, Gabby had signed with Nasty Gal and Matty was proud and Frankie, well Frankie was just sad.
She decided not to enter Louis room because it smelled like vape and it was overwhelming. She entered the door to the left suddenly the air filled with a sent of cheap perfume and a hint of mentol cigarettes.
The room was like a perfect magazine cover. Frankie was afraid to sit in case she wrinkled the fabric or stained it with something she didn't even know was on her pants.
The couch oposite to the bed was cream color with a fine green silk details; leaves embroidered so delicately that they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in.
The white curtains were linen, the kind of white that was untouched by hands and devoid of dust. A cursory look to the right showed her the almost hidden cords that were used to open and close them. There was no television, no bookshelf, no bedside table. The photographs were black and white, not casual family snaps, but arranged to look like such by a professional, none of it wouldn't look out of place in a spread of Hello.
The floor was a high polished wood, dark and free of either dust or clutter and Frankie felt like crying, the room reminded her of what a wreck her life was and after snooping around for a few seconds she exited the room entering the one oposite to it with The Clash posters and a "Don't enter" sign, she assumed it was Matty's bedroom.
She felt almost like she was trespassing but she was sad and emo and he was going of to LA in two weeks. It was weird being there, the place that was the center of so many memories for him were he felt the most comfortable in his teenage eyes and showed his personality, the hurricane that Matty Healy in fact was.
She imagined a young Matty: 16 years old his room being the only place where he could really be and do what he wanted, his own space. Frankie started fantasizing for a bit, sitting in the now dusty bed with a black duvet imagining a normal day in the household way before he became famous, back when he was just a stoner good for nothing.
It would have being an early morning a small 6 year old Louis running around ready for school, the house would be crazy, it would always crazy. A dog probably barking, Denise running around making noise, Matty in his room (that very same room) without caring about everything else, being the only place that he could go to clear his mind
It was probably the place where he could concentrate and think about everything that was going on around him - the pretentious fucker.
She could just imagine him blazing a joint thinking about the band and what he wanted to do with his life, the kind of future that he wanted to achieve. It had all worked out at the end.
The room looked like what she imagined was inside his brain, all references to himself, everything centering around him: his pictures, albums, posters, there were fucking self reflecting poems; what a nomb.
She also understood young Matty in a way too, her room for instance was the place where she could go and get high or read without getting distracted, where she could write down her feelings and open her mind (or legs) to new ideas or other things if you know what I mean.
She remembered the many times she had gone to her room and just write about things that were going around in the world (in her world) that were going to affect her sooner or later, like the her mom's boyfriend and Amber's lesbian lover that was making her friend stop having time with her last year.
Frankie looked around the room plain white walls filled with posters and pictures of Matty with past and current friend the walls broken only by three coloured squares on one side. A big black bed lied lazily in the middle of that wall full of dust. Behind the mirrored slidey doors stand the shelves: once full of colour and clothes. Now they waited, redundant. A box siting in the corner full of childhood memorabelia – nothing more recent.
She thought about looking through it but she was scared about what she would find a soft click made her look at the door for her eyes only to meet soft puppy brown ones disguised with a mob of curly soft looking hair.
Matty, always Matty.
"Hey" He said softly. Frankie didn't deserve this; she didn't know why this was happening to her in the first place, or what was happening exactly.
She just knew that she was tired, she was so fucking tired of it all.
"Hey" She said eyes meeting his. "Frankie, I-" She stopped him. "It's ok, you didn't have to tell me, I understand you're busy." "No, it's not ok. I know I'm a dickhead I should have told you, I'm sorry"
"That doesn't matter, saying you're sorry doesn't mean it's ok for you to be a dick" She muttered- she was right and Matty knew that.
At this point, Frankie wanted to go back to fucking America or flee to any other country on the map, away from that boy, away from the suffering and never come back.
She almost laughed at herself. As if.
Her tolerance to ill treatment was almost nonexistent, she realized, but then again, this shouldn't be happening to her, not without an explanation.
She crossed her arms across her chest, her hand applying too much pressure on her bicep.
"Why?" She asked finally.
"What do you mean?" Matty asked all confusion and furrowed brows.
"Why do you have to be like this?" She exclaimed finally done with his bullshit. "I was ok before you, I'll be ok after. I DON'T CARE. I'll go back to fucking James and anyone that comes in my way, but why? Just why? You knew since the first time you texted me that this would happen, so why did you do it? Are you that selfish? That first time we met in the park I fucking told you but you didn't care and you called me after and that doesn't make any sense. Why did you want me to go to your house when you knew that you were going to leave in two fucking weeks? If you wanted someone to fuck there is a line of underage stupid girls just like me that would be pleased to do it. So tell me please Matty, why? "
"I- I don't know" He said suddenly lost of words.
She sigh getting up from the dent that she made on the old bed going around the boy ready to give Louis any excuse and leave, but she didn't because Matty grabbed her arm before she was able to do so.
He wasn't going to let her go and maybe he was stalling but that didn't matter all that matter was her, he didn't care about Gabby washing the dishes downstairs with his mom or about how fucking morally incorrect and illegal all of this was because at the end of the day Denise might have raised a melodramatic, shallow, and self centered ass with the interest span of a gold fish, but she raised no quitter.
" I don't know how to explain it and maybe that says a lot because I'm usually good with words and you have to understand I'm old I know every trick in the book and I'm still here because there is something. I mean for fucks sakes Frankie, there are plenty of people to love and I have loved many. I've took plenty of drugs but there was something always missing and I thinks that's because what was missing was you, I'm addicted to you. You're funny and cute and I think I love you and I don't know what to do with myself"
" Well you're broken." She said strongly removing forcefully her arm from what felt like his claws.
"You're fucking 26 years old, get your life together. what are you doing? Does any of this matter? It doesn't. You're fucked up Matty and you need to learn to grown the fuck up. I tried to breathe you in, I really have Matty, I tried to get lost in you and maybe this sounds pretentious but all I could smell was the smoke and it burned my lungs. You're a cup of black coffee in the morning, I need you for a wake me up. But nothing else. Because eventually I'll grow up but you will still be a 16 year old trapped on a adults body. "
She sigh for what felt like the tenth time since she had being in this room, she took out a cigarette from her back pocket and took the lighter that Matty extended to her without meeting his eyes. All her words were true and heavy and poetic and Matty had no idea what to do with it she was 16 she wouldn't be this smart. She smoked quickly, and he was entranced in the way that she breathed and how her chest moved up and down.
"Im not asking you to stay," she continued, cigarette in her mouth and looking every bit of tempting.
"Have you ever asked yourself why girls are falling over to get to you?"He shook his head, fingers slowly reaching hers. Brown soft eyes meeting "No fucking clue."
"Well it's because, we as women, have this need to fix what's broken. Sometimes we forget our pussies aren't fucking magic."
"Well yours feels like it." He commented, she laughed throwing her head back. She hugged him.
Frankie was leaving, for good.
Matty wanted to kiss her and the truth was that Frankie loved Matty so deeply but she was so emotionally unstable and she was watching his life falling apart right in front of her eyes and she wasn't going to let him fuck everything up for her.
She was leaving, Matty knew it and fuck that pissed him off.
Right there, in that moment he took a decision, Matty Healy was going to kiss her until their mouths tasted the same; he was going to kiss Frankie until she couldn't feel her fucking face anymore. He was going to show her what a ravishing kiss was like, leaving her dazed, completely messed up, and unable to even stand anymore, a kiss that she would never dare forget.
She was going regret ever even considering of leaving, he was going to show he how merciless he can be. Matty Healy was going to kiss Frankie Howard senseless, then ask her what 2+2 was, just for her to say Matty's name as an answer. After all, she was just asking for it.
And so they did, hot bothering kissing and Frankie would start to feel Matty's growing dick on her hip and fuck-
"Matty babe come down stairs and help me and your mom with the dishes!" Said a velvety singing voice that made Frankie want to kill herself, fucking Gabriella brook being a cockblock.
Just like that he felt leaving Frankie alone with her underwear wet just like her eyes filled with tears. She was offended, she was pissed, She was angry, frustrated,annoyed, at that moment Frankie was many things but she wasn't thinking straight.
She could feel her heart pounding faster, her muscles tensed and her hands were both put into fists as she felt her long nails hurting her palms. Frankie's vision was getting blurry with hot angry tears and her bottom lip was trembling. In her veins there wasn't blood rushing though her body there was bitterness and annoyance mixed with rage as she felt every single muscle of her body rigid and tense.
Her mind was a complete mess of unfinished thoughts but all she knew and all she felt was irritation and indignation towards him.
Frankie Howard wanted to scream, say things that she would regret and in a totally 2007 Britney Spears moment she started throwing things everywhere and as she threw a punch at the wall she knew she fucked up feeling the sudden pain.
||||
"Last night-" Frankie's mother paused midsentence, rolling her eyes as her daughter entered loudly the house interrupting her moment with Harry, but she didn't say anything as her eyes widened when she looked at Francis. "Oh my god, what happened to your hand?!"
"What?" Frankie brows furrowed, she checked her right hand to see the pink, swelled skin. It looked as unflattering as she thought. "Oh, that."
"Don't tell me that you had a fight, Frankie." Harry said, very confused.
"As if he cared" Frankie thought.
"Oh don't be ridiculous, Frankie can't hurt a fly." Was her mother's response and to some degree it was true, she was too skinny and had two left feet.
Frankie smiled gracefully. "It was a wall."
She frowned taking a sip from her cosmo. "A wall -?"
"I was imagining someone's face on it."
Long chapter it was a very interesting one to write, I hope you enjoy it if you have any suggestions for the story please tell me in the comments lots of love Abbie. Also I've being watching Yuri on Ice and damn if you guys are into anime at all you'll love it.