When?
I wondered that question every day since that day. I felt ridiculous, almost ashamed by how quickly I let him sneak into my brain. I hoped the night of the Awards could help with the distraction.
As we walked around the crowds of celebrities and entourages, the non-stop clicks from the cameras accompanied us. Me and the boys loved red carpets.
We've been nominated for Best New Act, but we didn't really care if we won. We couldn't care less about awards. We didn't need a prize to confirm we were a great band. We couldn't care less about all those celebrities attending or their picture-perfect lives. Award shows were a game for us, an open bar, a free buffet, that's why we loved them. And we loved to flatter ourselves. I walked the carpet in my little white dress, my face glowing thanks to my highlighter.
Once inside the venue, me and the boys took our seats, waiting for the show to begin. Jeremy, our manager, was with us. He was only 26, Keith's best friend since high school. He was often polemical and buzzkill, but we needed him to keep us centred.
I looked around. I couldn't fangirl too much, I was a sucker for old artists and not particularly into the new scene of music industry. Of course, there were some exceptions. I freaked out when I saw Clairo and Sam Fender.
"Are you searching for someone?" Alex asked.
"Not really"
Actually, I was looking for Matty. I knew he was gonna be there here, and he was gonna perform.
I had gotten no texts from him since the march for climate change. I was a modern and proud woman, so I thought "well, if you want to talk to him and he doesn't text you, you should do it". But truth was: I said I didn't care about anything and anyone all the time, but at the end of the day, I didn't have the guts to do it. And he had a girlfriend. I admit, I did my researches about him and Twigs, but all I found was a couple of articles that assumed they were dating but nothing confirmed. And I wasn't the insicure type, but shit, Twigs was fascinating, like she belonged to another planet. I sighed. I hated to question my confidence for a guy, and more than that I hated to compare myself to another woman.
Maybe I was only high. Maybe smoking a blunt before the show wasn't the best idea. I thought I could handle it just fine, only then I realized what I just smoked wasn't the same shit I used to smoke in the suburbs of Rome. This was high quality shit.
"Hey, do we look stoned?" I asked my friends, whispering so Jeremy wouldn't hear me.
"No, man" Charlie replied, his eyes red.
"Not even close" Keith added, looking vacant.
"And the winner is... Afterdream"
Me and Alex glanced at each other. We've never really left each other's side the past year. Alex had been usually working on a rhythm or a chord progression, then took those ideas to me, giving me recordings of his guitar compositions, over which I wrote words and vocal melodies. It was such an unusual way of writing, like a forced intimacy. You have to feel a strong connection to match with the other's style. Charlie and Keith later came to give their input, making the song an authentic Afterdream tune, but it was mostly me and Alex, me and him, building and creating the songs about what we were, what we loved, what we feared. We glanced at each other, joined our hands and reached the stage, followed by our friends.
When I held the award in my hands, it felt so good, but I would never admit it. I came from a modest family. The house where we used to live, we were still paying for it. I wasn't used to that world of luxury and awards. And now I was here. Not specifically on this stage, in front of these people. Here was the reality I've built with my band, the songs we wrote, the fans who supported us. Here was a very nice place.
"I mean, is anyone surprised?" Charlie asked to the crowd. Arrogant, cheeky, proud. Totally him. People responded with an applause.
"I think we should have been nominated more" Alex said suddenly, pointing at Charlie. "He should be nominated for best band, cause he's got seven personalities"
While the crowd was laughing, I saw Matty's face in the midst of all those people. His countless curls were indistinguishable. He was clapping and when he noticed I was looking at him, he smiled and winked at me. At his table was George, Adam, Ross and other people I didn't know. I saw her too. Twigs. She was wearing a huge green feather hat.
I tried to stay focused. I tightened my hand around the award. I was feeling high but unfortunately, I wasn't feeling numb yet.
"I think I should thank someone, shouldn't I?" I began, looking for a nod of conformation from my friends. "I'd like to thank all the people who bought the record and paid to see us or just accidentally listened to us once. We have written our raptures on paper, but I know many hearts will understand us. Thank you"
We went back to our seats in the noise of the applause. Someone else went on the stage and knocked on the microphone, stealing our attention. According to his look, he must have been around 50. His hair was already white, short, pushed back from his face. He was wearing a suit and he looked burdened.
"Who's this grandad?" Charlie asked.
"Don't be mean, Charlie" I said.
"He's an actor. Victor something" Alex responded.
The old man spoke: "I am here to announce the winner of next category, but erm... I am having some difficulty"
I was listening with no particular attention. I felt the effects of the blunt hitting me, as his words grazed my mind.
"I mean, that little bird made it very hard" he said. He was faking embarrassment and coyness, but his gaze was confident and calm. "How old is she? They come and make you feel a pedo for admiring their equipment"
A murmur began to rise in the room. Was he talking about me?
"Best New Act" he continued. "I see why they won. Damn. If I knew, I would have voted for them too"
"What the fuck" Keith blurted out.
My mouth was open, but no words came out. I was too high and things were so hard to figure out at that point. Someone in the crowd booed, but I became paranoid and anxious that people were actually laughing. Did I choose the wrong outfit?
The man didn't seem bothered. He just raised his hands as if to say "calm down".
"What a twat" Charlie said, and stood up. "What do you mean, huh?" he shouted. "Say it to my face, c'mon"
I suddenly woke up from my coma. I shook Charlie's arm. "It's okay"
"No, it's not!" he protested.
The man shrugged and laughed. "Oi boy, no need to make a scene"
"It's okay, Charlie. He's just a cunt. Sit down"
On the other side of the table, Alex stood now up and got Charlie to sit down again. Then he raised his middle finger to that pig.
"Here we are, the new youth and its politically correct humour, wants to kill fucking irony" that man said. "Relax, she's not even bothered"
The crowd kept murmuring and I begged for Charlie to keep quiet.
"Anyway, the nominees for Best Solo Record are..."
The show kept going but I was still in shock. I have never ever seen this man before, why did he say those things about me? Should I stand up and say something? But what? How can you be so inappropriate and rude? I didn't look up from my feet for best part of the night, I felt embarrassed and mortified. Was my dress too short?, I wondered to myself. God, was I really questioning myself and the length of my dress when the only one to blame was that asshole? I felt tears threatening in the corner of my eyes. I wanted to leave, but Jeremy said we couldn't. He said Victor Westwear - that was his name - would be eaten up by the media and the public's opinion would have him regret his words for life. I was not comforted. I felt so ridiculous for letting the comment of stranger get me that much. I wanted to be cold, but it was so hard not to feel things intensily.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed. It was the cue that someone was about to perform. I knew who it was when a yellow light broke the darkness.
There was no sound yet, all I could see was his silhouette. Matty nervously walked back and forth on the stage until George hit the drums.
Matty grabbed the microphone and shouted "Wake up, wake up, wake up!". He was pissed off as the song required. The more I looked at him, the more his body responded to the vibe of the song, the more I felt my embarrassment turn into annoyence, and my sadness into anger.
He was wearing a dark grey suit. He was elegant, but he kept something punk and reckless in himself, his wavy hair falling on his forehead and his earrings shining every time the light caught them. His body moved in jolting gestures, like he was being shocked by an electric chair. He kept his eyes closed for the passion he was putting in it. Amongst the chaos of that night, when all I could feel was anger and annoyence and shame, I looked at Matty and suddenly my thoughts were now clear and redundant, and they ringed in my head like a broken record player: he looked so cool, so, so cool.
The song ended with a last scream: "stop fucking with the kids, fuck"
Matty started pacing, tired, on the stage. He was looking down, his hair covering his face.
"People like people" he murmured. "Yeah, people like people. But I don't like people like you"
A murmur started spreading through the crowd.
"I just want you all to listen to me for one sec" he continued, brushing his hair away from his face. "We experienced tonight, a prime example of a male misogynist, indecent human being, who hysterically judged a woman for the way she dressed"
My heart skipped a beat. He was talking about me.
Matty pointed to Victor in the crowd. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. And believe me, it's frustrating. It's so frustrating to be, once again, in a room where a woman, in the music industry, has been subject to misogynist behaviour by a man when professionalism should have been at play. It's frustrating to be in a room with a man like you. If nobody ever told you that, I do. You should be ashamed of yourself"
The crowd whistled, applauded, shouted. My friends whispered something to me, but I just couldn't stop staring at him.
Matty kept pacing back and forth on the stage. "You know what? I'm disgusted by this, I'm out" he said. He left the microphone fall on the floor and just left the stage.
I stared at my reflection in the large mirror. I looked stoned. The bright light of the expensive bathroom in that venue was blinding me. The booths behind me were all closed. I drank some water from the sink quickly. I didn't want to meet anyone's eyes. I just wanted to go home.
I felt I had to thank Matty, but in some ways I hated it was someone else who spoke for me. It almost mortified me how ungrateful I could be, but I detested to look like someone who couldn't defend herself.
I rubbed my wrist on my mouth, tiny drops of water falling from my chin. Then I heard someone flushing the toilet. One of the doors opened up and I stood there looking at Matty behind me through the mirror.