Oh? The last chapter of The Radio Station wasn’t soft enough for ya? Well, here, have some even more soft Matty. Requested by @ghostlightqueen off the prompt list~
I could feel my headache pounding away behind my eyes as I stared at the screen in front of me. How long had I been working? Probably too long. Definitely too long. But I just had to finish this last bit and then I could stop for a bit. I had to get on top of the backlog of stuff that had piled up. Had to feel back in control of my workload. But it was difficult trying to be efficient while feeling like my brain was melting. As I was trying to sort out my thoughts, I heard the door behind me open.
“You’re home early.” I muttered without turning around, knowing full well it would be Matty. Nobody else had a key to get in. I was surprised that I hadn’t heard him, though. He would’ve had to have brought bags in with him.
“You’re up late.” He shot back as his hand came to rest on my shoulder. It was a small gesture, but the instant feeling of comfort was incredibly relieving after such a stressful day.
However, I wasn’t about to let that sway me from finishing this, “Mm.”
“How long have you been working?” He asked, pushing past my unwillingness to interact with him.
“What’s the time?” I asked back.
There was a pause, I assume as he checked his phone, “Nearly midnight.”
“Uh,” I started at about ten, so that would make it, “about fourteen hours or so.” I shrugged.
There was a slight scraping noise, and I saw Matty out of the corner of my eye dragging over the chair from the side of the room. “You need to take a break.” He said, taking a seat next to me.
“I don’t need one.” I dismissed as I looked back at what I was in the middle of.
“Yes, you do.” He argued, placing an arm around my shoulders. I couldn’t help but subconsciously lean into it.
“Just let me-”
“You look like a fucking zombie.” He interrupted with a laugh.
I let out a deep sigh, pinching at the bridge of my nose to alleviate some of the pain rattling around my skull. “I’m fine, I swear.”
“Look, if anyone knows what overworked looks like, it’s me.” I finally took the chance to properly look at him; his normally light curls hanging limp around his forehead like he hadn’t washed his hair in far too long, the bags under his eyes, his dishevelled clothes, the lopsided smile – he was just as exhausted as I was.
Matty sat quietly for a few more moments as I tried to finish off the project I was on. But it was only about five minutes before he had to interject again. “Come on.” He pleaded, pulling me further into his side. The more I let myself ease into his warmth, the more I could feel how tired I truly was setting in.
“Matty…” I whined in reluctance.
“It’s way too late to be doing this.” He said in what I knew was his attempt at a convincing tone.
“I’m so close to done.” I reasoned.
“Just save it for now and come back to it tomorrow.” He said as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “We both need rest.” I had to admit, he had a point. And now that I’d noticed how tired he looked, I just felt awful for keeping him up too. Damn him and his ability to guilt trip me so easily.
I groaned as I stood up from my desk chair, stretching slightly and feeling my back crack a few times.
“See, you’ve been sitting still for too long. That’s not good.” Matty reprimanded as he clicked his tongue.
I couldn’t help but snort at his hypocrisy, “Like you can talk, I see how often you crack your neck when you’ve been in the studio all day.” I said.
“You gotta get up and go for walks and stuff.” He continued to give me advice, acting like he hadn’t heard me remind him of his own bad habits.
“Oh, I see how it is. You just wanna dish out advice but not take it?” I chuckled.
“This is about you, not about me.” He said as he shook his head. “Got a headache?” He asked with a concerned frown.
“Maybe.” I muttered, opting to look away from him.
“Save all your stuff, turn that off, go to bed, I’ll grab you some paracetamol.”
Seeing him be so worried and considerate was endearing to say the least. Even though I was still stressed about getting all this work done, at least for the moment, I felt pretty calm and taken care of. By the time I had gotten ready and clambered into bed, Matty was just walking in, glass of water and painkillers in hand. I downed the pills, hoping they’d take effect quickly. I watched in my peripherals as he got himself sorted, switched the light off and climbed into bed- but I wasn’t really focusing on that, instead I was trying to work out when I needed to get up tomorrow. If I set my alarm for nine, then I should be up and ready in time to get back to work for ten. The sooner I smashed out this job that I was on then I could start the big-ticket item I’d been given this week-
“Stop.” He said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Stop thinking about work.” Matty laughed. “You’ve got that look on your face that you get in the middle of a project.” He said, running his hand up and down my back comfortingly.
“But-”
“Sort it out tomorrow. Sleep now.” He said, cutting himself off with a yawn.
I took one look at him, seeing how he was fighting to keep himself awake to make sure I actually went to sleep as well, as opposed to continuing to fret about work. “Fine.” I huffed. My annoyance was mostly superficial, because it melted away as soon as he pulled me closer to him.
He leaned forward slightly, kissing me gently, “Good night.” He said quietly.
“G’night.” I mumbled, already feeling the sleep that I’d been dying for taking over.
Another prompt? Another prompt. Requested by one of the best fanfic writers the world has ever known @aphxsia off the prompt list~
“Matty, I need a hand.” I called out to my housemate as I rifled through my wardrobe.
“With what?” He shouted back. I heard his footsteps pad closer until his short curls popped up around my doorway.
“I have that date tonight, remember?” I answered.
“Ooooo.” He cooed with a smirk as he sat down on the end of my bed.
“Can you just shut up and help me?” I said, rolling my eyes at his tone.
“What exactly do you need help with?” He asked.
“You know what guys are into-”
“I know what I’m into.” He corrected.
“What am I meant to wear for this thing?” I sighed in exasperation. I’d spent the last half an hour trying to pick something decent and, in the end, decided to deflect the decision.
Matty nodded, looking like he was thinking about this for a second. “Where is he talking you?”
“I dunno, a restaurant.” I shrugged. In all honesty, I wasn’t overly excited about this date, which was probably why I was struggling to choose something to wear. But I felt bad saying no to this poor man when, for all intents and purposes, he ticked all the boxes of what I would usually look for. I just… wasn’t feeling it.
“A fancy restaurant?” He asked.
“I think so.” He actually hadn’t told me where exactly we were going, but he seemed the type to go somewhere extravagant.
“Maybe like a nice dress, then?” He suggested.
“That seems like too much for a first date.” I grimaced. “Especially considering I probably won’t see him again.” I added under my breath.
“A decent blouse, then..?” He said
“Hm. That’ll do, I guess.” I said with a nod, grabbing something off a hanger that I quite liked.
I ushered Matty out, quickly changing into the new outfit before stepping out into the main living area for his opinion. He looked up from his laptop as I walked in, giving me a once over before going back to whatever he was doing. “What’s the weather meant to be like tonight?” He questioned.
I frowned, unsure where he was going with this, “Pretty cold.” I said. “Why?”
“A jacket might be smart?” He recommended.
“Oh, yeah…” I muttered, glancing down at my short-sleeved blouse. “I don’t think I really have a jacket that goes with this, though...”
“I might.” He said instantly.
“You’d loan me one of your jackets?” I asked in surprise. Matty had a hell of a wardrobe these days - I was certain that many of the things on his hangers were worth more than my car.
“Yeah.” He said with a shrug. His nonchalance about giving out something that cost so much made me envy his pay cheque.
“Aren’t they all fancy and tailored?” I asked, already heading in the direction of his room.
He just chuckled lightly, “I’m sure you’ll pull it off. Don’t worry.” He called after me.
As expected, his wardrobe was thoroughly impressive. The amount of ridiculous looking Gucci and Saint Laurent outfits in here was crazy. It was actually rather daunting trying to make a decision about what jacket to borrow, because the sheer amount of options was intimidating. After flicking through his hangers, I found a nice medium-length black jacket that would do the trick for keeping the cold out. It didn’t quite fit when buttoned up fully, but having just the bottom button done up looked pretty decent. I made my way back into the living room, waiting for Matty to look up from his laptop before gesturing to the suit jacket. He stared at it for a long moment, before meeting my gaze again. It looked like the gears inside his head were turning, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Matty didn’t often have nothing to say. “What?” I asked. “Does it look shit?” I asked with a frown.
“No, like… It’s just…” He raked a hand through his curls as he let out a huff of air. “I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” He seemed pretty worked up over this. I suddenly felt like maybe I should’ve checked the tag. Had I grabbed something stupidly expensive?
“So, it looks good?” I asked apprehensively.
“It looks insanely good.” He nodded with a disbelieving laugh.
“Oh. Great. Hopefully the date goes-”
“Don’t go out with that guy.” He interrupted, shaking his head as he stood up.
“Huh? Why?” I watched as he stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of me.
“You’re way too good for him.” He scoffed, reaching out to straighten the lapel of the jacket, resting a hand just below my shoulder as he did so.
“Am I just?” I asked in surprise, finding myself laughing slightly. “Who do you propose I date then?”
“Me.” He said simply.
His statement hung there for a second as I processed it. “What?” I could suddenly hear my heart rate hammering in my ears.
“Go on a date with me.” He rephrased. My stomach dropped when he asked the full question.
“What?” How long had Matty been into me? Was this a recent thing or was it a thing when he suggested I move in? This brought up far too many questions.
“Please?” He asked hopefully. As I stared up at him, I couldn’t help but feel like I wanted to say yes to him - and not just to be polite. This, this was the vibe that I had been missing with that other guy. This was why I hadn’t been keen for the date. I just hadn’t realised it was possible for me to get this feeling so close to home.
“You know what?” I started, trying to contain my grin. “Yeah.” I nodded as he broke out into an eager smile. “Grab a coat.”
Eyyyyy it’s prompt time. I have since forgotten what prompt’s @imagine-that-100 gave me from the prompt list for this part two, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway. :P
And I was right, because it wasn’t over. The pool incident was just the start of much more bickering and fighting over nothing that was set to come during the months between Matty and I. We hadn’t known each other all that well prior to that day, but it definitely set the bar for future interactions. Being argumentative and stubborn was just a habit neither of us could break, much to all of our mutual friend’s annoyance. It might’ve been on the verge of immature, since we were both pushing thirty, but neither of us cared. And we never really meant it. Grudges about stolen floaties were not held for long. It was a rare occasion that we genuinely made up and said sorry, but typically by the end of the day we had either forgotten about it or played some prank on the other to feel avenged about our wrong doing. Over the course of many months of arguing and pranking, Matty and I inevitably became closer. Realistically, Matty was probably one of my best friends by this point in my life. We saw each other at least a couple of times a week for various reasons and I enjoyed his company (mostly). But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying to constantly one-up him and make sure I destroy him any time he challenges me to anything. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You gotta know your opponent’s weaknesses to best exploit them.
However, tonight was our regularly scheduled movie night. So, more than likely no arguing would be occurring tonight. The movie had already been picked by democratic vote by the group, which meant there would be no debates about that. Everyone was bringing their own snacks, nothing to fight over. And we rotated who hosted, so no arguments there either. This week it was Matty’s turn. Last week when it had been at my flat, we had picked a comedy movie to watch and ended up receiving a noise complaint from my neighbour about us being “too rambunctious”. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have the same issue to deal with this week given Matty’s much thicker walls. I was cutting up a tray of brownies that I was graciously bringing to share - one of which may or may not have been spiked with cayenne pepper just to spite Matty for last week when he mixed my bag of skittles with m+m’s - while I replayed the events of last week. The details of the movie were actually a bit of a blur, because after the few drinks that I had downed after a rough day at work, I recalled falling asleep. When I woke up, I found myself snoring on Matty’s shoulder. God, that was utterly embarrassing. Other than my snoring, to wake up cosying up to Matty? I’d rather be caught dead. But I must have been too distracted by these memories, because as I was cutting, I slipped and managed to slice open my thumb with my new knife.
I felt the cut the instant it happened, bracing myself for what I might see before I looked down. Sure as shit, all I saw was a lot of red. The first thought to run through my head was that my brownie plan was ruined. I couldn’t serve brownies that had been doused in blood. The second was that I absolutely needed to seal this wound as soon as possible. I raced to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of gauze and wrapping it around my thumb as tightly as I could. Do I call an ambulance? No, this wasn’t an ambulance sort of emergency. Emergency, though. I should go to the emergency room. Now. But I had to let the guys know I wasn’t coming. I could see the gauze starting to turn red as I searched my phone for Matty’s contact. Fuck, I felt so bad for bailing on this movie night given it was our regular thing, but this was really not good. Really, really not good. The phone rang twice before he picked up.
“Hey-”
“Look, I need to go to emergency.” I interrupted in a garbled rush.
“What?” He shouted down the line.
“I need to go to hospital, so I’m not gonna make it tonight.” I explained, slightly slower.
“What did you do?” He asked in an incredulous tone.
“I sliced my thumb open cutting brownies.” I just heard him laughing. “It’s not funny, Matty. I need stitches.” I frowned as I started to grab my essentials. What if they wanted to keep me in overnight? Oh my god, I was absolutely not prepared for something like this. I should have a go bag. Is that a thing normal people did? Have a go bag in case they accidentally injure themselves? Maybe smart people did.
“Do you need me to drive you?” He offered as I was contemplating what exactly I would put in a go bag.
“What? Uh, no. I’m okay. I think.” I rattled off.
“I’ll meet you there.” I heard him say. He what? Why would he want to come to the hospital?
“Wait. No, you don’t-” But he’d already hung up.
Before I left the house, I slapped another few layers of bandage over the gauze on my thumb to try and put some pressure on this cut that was apparently bleeding like a tap by the rate it was turning things red. Driving to the hospital with a thumb as fat as mine was with all the bandages wrapped around it was not easy to say the least, but I managed to get there in one piece. Once I had gotten there, paid for my parking, and then managed to check myself into the ER, I was able to take a seat and decompress slightly. But, the peace and quiet didn’t last long, because not even five minutes after I sat down a familiar face entered through the sliding glass doors.
“Good job.” Matty said as he approached, with a slow clap for emphasis.
“Don’t patronise me.” I scoffed.
“Show me.” He said as he took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to my own.
“It’s okay-”
“Just show me what you did.” He dismissed.
“I mean, I can’t really take this stuff off-” I gestured to my half blood-soaked bandages, “-or it’ll bleed worse.”
He let out a low whistle as he raked a hand through his curls. “Bloody hell.” He muttered under his breath, before glancing up at me. “Pardon the pun.” He added with a smirk.
“Shut up. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” I lied. I was trying to play it down, to pretend like I hadn’t briefly seen how deep that knife went, but I knew that this was definitely very vital that I see a doctor very fucking soon.
He met my gaze, clearly seeing the stress I was trying to hide. “You’re not very convincing.” He chuckled.
Despite my protests about him wanting to wait with me, Matty continued to ramble on about what he had done earlier in the day while we sat in the crowded waiting room. He also told me not to worry about cancelling on the movie night, and thanked me for trying to make brownies. If only he had known what his brownie was going to taste like. But at least he was distracting me from the weird sensation in my thumb. After about half an hour, I was called through to be seen by the nurse - which realistically just meant that I sat and waited in another room for a further ten minutes until I was finally seen by someone. When she walked in, she introduced herself and asked for a run down of the situation as she started gathering some supplies. After I had explained what I had done, she started moving towards my giant wad of bloody fabric.
“I’m gonna look away.” I warned the nurse, she just nodded in response. I felt her unravelling the bandages on my thumb, trying really hard to busy myself by studying the vision tester chart on the wall. She let out a quiet hum as she analysed the situation.
“All right. I am going to put some glue on this now to hold it, but we are going to need to anaesthetise you to properly sort this out. Is that okay?” She asked in a calm tone. They were going to knock me out? It was bad enough to need to be knocked out for?? Holy shit.
“Um, yep.” I nodded. “I suppose it’ll have to be.” I added with a nervous laugh. “When will that be?”
“As soon as they can get you in. Likely in the next few hours.” She answered.
When I came back out of the nurse’s station, I sat back down and told Matty what they had said.
“They need to sedate you?” He asked in shock.
“I’ve apparently done quite a number on myself.” I could feel the stress building up as the realisation set in. Oh my god. I had cut off my thumb. I had cut off my thumb and now they needed to reattach it. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.
“Hey, calm down.” He reassured, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”
“But what if it’s too late? What if I cut too far? What if-”
Thankfully, Matty interrupted my downward spiral of anxiety. “They would’ve told you if that were the case. They’re going to operate, so it must be fine.” He moved to take my good hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind as I nodded in agreement. At least one of us was the voice of reason right now. “When are you going in?” He questioned, seeming genuinely sympathetic.
“They said as soon as possible. I just have to wait here until a theatre frees up.” I replied. He just nodded thoughtfully. “You should go back to the movie night.” I said, eventually feeling guilty that he’d already been sat waiting here for an hour.
“No.” He shook his head as he rifled through his pocket. “You want some gum?” He asked, holding a packet out in my direction.
I looked down at them apprehensively. “They’re not some ridiculous flavour, are they?”
He laughed loudly. “No, I threw the wasabi ones out.”
It was another hour before I was finally called through to get ready for theatre. Now I was genuinely feeling pretty awful that Matty had been here this whole time. We had well and truly pushed past dinner time, he’d missed the movie, our friends were all sat at his place without him. He can’t have been having a good time stuck here with me.
“Okay, I gotta go in.” I said as I stood up.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He smiled up at me from his seat.
“Just go home, I’ll be fine.” I said as I gestured to the door.
“No.” He grinned.
“Go.”
“No.” His dark brown eyes bore into mine, clearly challenging me to push him further on the subject.
“I hate you, so much.” I grumbled as I heard the nurse call my name again.
“I love you, too.” He said, blowing a kiss for emphasis as I walked off.
The doctors all reassured me that the operation was going to be quick and easy. Knock me out, stitch me up, wake me up fifteen minutes later. Easy peasy. I had never had any issues with operations, being knocked out was easy. It was the stuff you had to be awake for that was hard. True to their word, when I saw the clock when I started coming to, it had been no more than half an hour than when I last checked the time. But my god I felt groggy. My brain felt like it had been replaced with a bunch of cotton balls and my eyelids might as well have been made of lead. I glanced down at my thumb, seeing a much smaller pile of bandages on there, that were now thankfully not soaked in blood. That was nice. I then caught sight of the man sat next to my bed.
“Hey, you’re up.” Matty said quietly as he stepped over. As soon as he leaned over the bed frame, the fluorescent lights above him just illuminated his dark, curly hair. Holy shit. It looked borderline angelic. “How’re you feeling?”
“Your hair…” I mumbled as I reached out my good hand to touch it.
He seemed surprised by my actions at first, before letting my run a hand through it. “What about it?” He asked with a quiet laugh.
“It’s really soft.” I answered, genuinely quite surprised by how nice it felt. “Has it always been that soft?” I felt like I had been missing out. I could’ve been touching this hair for nearly a year now and instead I had been swapping his shampoo for ranch dressing and perfume.
Matty seemed keen to indulge my anaesthesia haze, letting me bother him with all of my weird questions about his hair. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. I did a lot of mean shit to him and here he was, sat with me in emergency all evening instead of hanging out with his friends. After the pranks I’d pulled, I likely didn’t deserve a friend like him. But he’d pulled them on me too. We were a pretty good pair, I suppose. And I had no idea if it was this lighting or what, but dare I say, Matty was looking pretty attractive today. Had I really just been so focused on butting heads with him that I never noticed these things before?
“Are you sure you really look this good? I feel like I must still be dreaming.” I said, pretending to shield my eyes.
He frowned, before the realisation dawned on him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged.
“Don’t use cheesy pickup lines on me.” He chuckled.
“How else am I meant to pick you up?” I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.
“Are you trying to?” He asked as a smile slowly made its way onto his face.
“Maaaaybe.” I said in an attempt to be non-committal, but then my curiosity got the better of me. “Is it working?”
“I’m gonna remind you of this when you’re properly out of the anaesthetic.” He just looked amused. Not the reaction I had hoped for. But I was too tired to keep trying to come up with clever lines.
“Okay.” I muttered, nodding softly. “Gon’ sleep now, though.” I added.
“Rest up.” He agreed. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get to deal with me giving you shit for this tomorrow.”
The Radio Station - Chapter Six - Why Can’t We Be Friends?
26th of November, 2018
Eventually, she saw it all unfold in the headlines. The lies. The heroin. The trip to rehab. It was devastating to discover the root cause of Matty’s behaviour in such a disconnected way from how she might’ve expected to discover it a few years ago. A part of her wanted to reach out, to check in and see if he was doing all right, offer to help, but she suspected after their last two interactions that maybe she was better off just leaving it. However, in contrast to the sinking feeling from knowing he had been going through such turmoil, it was incredibly uplifting to see him getting back on his feet. For him to be writing and releasing music again meant that he must’ve successfully made it to the other side. Whenever the announcement of a new album came, she waited in anticipation for the email confirming that he’d be coming back on the show. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was excited at the thought of seeing him again, or absolutely dreading the prospect of things still being uncomfortable between them - her emotions seemed to regularly flip flop between the two. It was awfully close to the album release date when she finally got the confirmation from her boss; she had begun to suspect maybe he didn’t want to come back on the show after how they’d left things. He’d have every right to resent her after how she’d treated him.
She was knocked out of her thoughts whenever she heard a soft knock at the door, turning in her chair to see Matty standing outside with a sheepish smile, having arrived early. His hair was cropped quite a bit shorter than she’d seen it before but he was still sporting his natural curls. He was wearing some puffy yellow coat over a plain shirt, and stock standard worn out blue jeans. It was probably the most… average, that she’d ever seen him look (not that average was ever a truly fitting word to describe Matthew Healy). She waited for him to push the door open and come in, but he seemed to be waiting for her to let him in. As she stood up and opened the door, and he gingerly made his way inside and loitered next to her desk for a minute, she was suddenly vividly reminded of the first time she’d met him. All she could see was the nervous twenty-three-year-old that she’d met six years ago, who was scared shitless about his first proper radio interview. The nostalgia hit like a freight train, and before she could give it a second thought she grabbed him in a tight hug.
He hugged her back, pressing his face into her shoulder as he let out the breath he had been holding. “I’m sorry…” She said quietly after a moment.
He gave an incredulous laugh at that, “You’re sorry? For what?” He asked. “I was the dickhead.”
“I just…” This hadn’t really been the way she expected herself to instantly react, nor had she thought of anything to say in this situation. Her mouth was running dry trying to come up with the right words to explain what she was feeling. “I wasn’t exactly a good friend.”
“I think we were both a bit guilty of that.” He chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair, taking a step back.
“I should’ve tried harder.” She tried to explain, frowning at herself as she floundered for the right sentiment.
“It’s fine, truly.” He reassured her. “I wouldn’t have told you what was happening, anyway. Nobody knew.” He added with a shrug.
They took their seats opposite the desk, both feeling slightly relieved but well aware there was still tension surrounding them. “Uh, is there anything you want me to avoid asking about?” She asked eventually, busying herself with checking the text line to avoid looking directly at him.
“No.” Matty replied instantly. “I’d prefer you ask what you want to rather than censor yourself for my benefit. I won’t answer it if it’s too much.” He clarified. “Thanks for checking, though.”
“Are you…” She hesitated, unsure of the boundaries of their friendship now and how much she should be asking for her own curiosity. “Are you all right now?” She asked as she looked across to him.
He cracked a small smile, “Considerably better. Probably not all the way there yet, though. It’s hard with my girlfriend back at home for the moment, but I’m managing. Keeping busy with other stuff to stay occupied.” He answered truthfully. She nodded in understanding. “And you? It’s been at least three years since we’ve had a proper conversation.” The realisation of how long it had actually been stung slightly, but she ignored that feeling and instead focused on the fact that he seemed to genuinely want to know how she’d been.
“Good.” She grinned. “Doing well on the morning slot now that it’s been a few years.”
“You’ve been making a bit of a reputation for yourself over here, I hear your name get kicked around a bit when I’m at home. It’s nice to see you getting proper recognition for your efforts.” She tried her best not to blush at the subtle compliment.
Thankfully she didn’t have too long to dwell on his kind words and any connotations behind them before the interview started. The nervous butterflies sat at the pit of her stomach as she switched the live audio and video feeds over, lying in wait in case the interview still felt as awkward and forced as the last two.
“Matty, great to have you back.” She spoke, clearing her throat slightly.
“Great to be back after so long.” He said cheerfully.
“The 1975 release their new record in six days, A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships-”
“Only six days?” He muttered to himself in slight disbelief.
“We’ve only got a relatively short interview today, because after this you are heading straight into the live lounge to play a few tracks for us.” He made a noise of agreement. “We’ve heard five singles off it, all of which sound very different from one another in true 1975 fashion.” Matty laughed lightly at that. “And I noticed that you did the same thing with this album as what you did with I Like it When You Sleep; the first single you released was the first track on the album. Is this becoming a habit for you guys?” She asked.
“Probably not a habit.” He started, letting out a huff. “It just felt like the most natural thing to do. Whether it felt like a primary statement or not, I’m not sure. We’d already made an album by that point, we hadn’t made a group of singles. I hadn’t been thinking ‘oh, how do we butter them up?’ Just thought… this is the first song on the record. Put it out.” He shrugged.
“Do you think this is your strongest record so far?”
“A hundred percent.” He answered instantly.
“I’ve heard people comparing it to OK Computer. Saying that it’s a similar thing for the millennial generation.” She prompted.
He let out a groan, “I try not to think much about it.” He admitted. “I mean, what do I say? It’s so humbling and amazing, but strange also, because… the only realisation that I really came to, about the record – I think the reference to OK Computer is maybe it’s kind of, the narrative is incredibly twinned with how we communicate and the internet and all those kind of things. Which is obviously OK Computer in a nutshell. My favourite records are about life.” He said, clenching his fist for emphasis and knocking the microphone lightly. “It’s maybe a bit of a big thing to say, but I was just writing a record about relationships. Well… I wasn’t even doing that; I was just writing a record. And it turns out if you’re trying to write an honest record about relationships and how they’re mediated in the modern day, you’re kind of by proxy writing about the internet.” He explained. Things already felt more natural than what they had of late. Matty felt more open and responsive, which instantly put her mind at ease.
“One of the other singles that we’ve heard from the album is Love It If We Made It, which is…” She tried to pick her words carefully to best capture her thoughts on the song succinctly, “a pretty powerful song to say the least.”
Matty nodded enthusiastically before answering, “The thing with Love It If We Made It… it was very, very difficult to write. It’s a list of information. The idea stemmed from the fact that over a year we collected tabloid newspapers every day to make the lyrics. Unfortunately, when we got to trying that, it was too slapstick. The song was hard to get right. It needed to be as objective and as fair and as anti… ‘watch out sheeple’ as possible. And that’s hard to do.”
“It seems you guys did a good job with it in the end. It’s been resonating well with our listeners.”
“Thanks.” Matty grinned proudly.
“It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You has also had quite the response.” She added, hoping he’d have a bit to say about that, and that maybe it could work as a segue to the questions blowing up her screen in her peripheral vision.
“It’s… I don’t know…” He sighed, staring blankly at the wall behind her as he tried to formulate an answer. “The way I always explain it, it’s like it’s a song that sounds poppy but it’s about something serious. Which, okay, that’s straight up 1975. And that’s because the feeling that I get from music, narratively or musically, can kind of be the same thing. You know like being nervous or being like, er, anxious for a date, physically could be the same feeling as the fear of heights if you get rid of all the intellect. Emotionally, you get the same thing. I’ve always been like, I get this feeling when I read the lyrics of Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen but I get the same carnal feeling when I hear the music to Girls Just Want to Have Fun. So… the synthesis of those ideas has just been the most obvious thing in the world for me, you know what I mean?” He looked across to her for confirmation. “I think that idea really sums up The 1975. If you’re a big fan of The 1975, that’s the most 1975-iest song on the record.”
She had hoped he would jump straight into the lyrical content of the song, but clearly she would need to segue into it herself. “That totally makes sense.” She agreed. “There’s been a bit of a debate about the subject matter of It’s Not Living.” She said, giving him a cautious glance. He’d said not to worry about asking whatever she wanted to, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like she was delving too deep into his private life.
He hummed thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure most of the fans know what it’s about.” He said with a dry laugh. “I’ve not like… done some big reveal of my relationship with drugs over the past couple of years. I think that because…” He stared down at the desk with a frown, “I used to have nightmares about being exposed. Because remember, my whole game has always been that ‘do I know that you know that I think that I’m a rock star?’ that’s always been my whole thing.” He said with a pointed look. “So, the idea though, of actually being known for being a junkie and doing those kinds of things, used to terrify me. Because then I’m a cliché. I lose all of my irony and lose all of my funniness because I’m an actual cliché. So, I think even when I’m talking about it on this record, I’m still going ‘Danny ran into some complications-’ it’s like I’m using characters. It’s a bit like somebody going ‘I’ve got this mate, right, and he’s got a bit of this weird rash-’ “ He chuckled. “Like ‘yeah, all right, well tell your mate-’ it’s like we know who you’re talking about. I think the idea that I’m still trying to hide and remove myself from it is part of the gag. But then the chorus is brutally honest. It’s difficult to write a song like that. It’s hard to despise the idea of fetishizing or romanticising drug use as a behaviour but then only having my truth. Like I don’t have anything else, I don’t have anywhere else to talk about it. There is a hopelessness to drug addiction. You don’t keep doing it because it’s cool, you keep doing it because you feel like there’s no life without it.” His expression seemed to become quite sombre at that before he continued his train of thought. “And to express that… it wasn’t like a relief for me. The music is a catharsis for me, but it wasn’t like I needed to get that out. Unfortunately, I’m only my set of experiences, and they’re pretty limited as somebody who’s been on the road for four years trying to mediate his life through drug addiction, y’know? So yeah… it’s difficult to walk that line. Um… But I just had to make sure that… like with most of my work, any discussion of my behaviour is normally with a profound distaste. And kids are smart, man.”
She hadn’t really expected him to be so open about it so readily. “What started it?” She asked instinctually, almost forgetting for a moment that she was at work and meant to be providing entertainment. “If you don’t mind me asking.” She added as an afterthought.
He waved a hand dismissively at her worry. “I’d be on stage, and there would be however many thousands of people. And I’m genuinely trying to connect with people, you know? And then it’s done. Go back to the hotel room. Go to sleep. Like… what?” He answered with a frustrated huff. “I was trying to change culture in my head ten minutes ago and now I’ve gotta go to sleep? I used drugs to go to sleep primarily. I’ve never had a good relationship with sleep, anyway… I’ve always been jealous of people they’ll tell me about a dream and they’ll kind of like explain this little kind of film that they’ve been that has a dynamic of emotions and it was up and it was down and my dreams are just like terror. Just fear. I’ve never had that many good dreams. And drugs stop you dreaming. But then obviously… you have solutions to get rid of that post-show buzz. Didn’t really get me anywhere. Spoilt it, as well. Did way too much. Did loads of it.” He admitted. “So, I can’t do anymore of it… when I’m older.” He laughed.
“So, you became reliant on that as a comedown?” She questioned.
“It was always gonna happen with me with opiates.” He said bluntly. “I only say this in case people relate to it, but like, when I was younger, I kind of used to dream about being sedated. And unfortunately, sex, drugs, other things, religion, I’ve loved all these things in my life but they’ve never just-” He clicked his fingers, “turned it off. And unfortunately, when I tried those drugs, I – temporarily, for a moment – had that. And I was like, right, this is gonna help. And erm,” He picked at his nail anxiously. “It just takes your shine off, slows you down. Makes you lie, which is a nightmare for somebody who is so Mr Tell The Truth.”
“The lies are what got you caught?”
He made a noise of contemplation. “The problem is… I’m very, very lucky, is what I am. And I have an infrastructure around me of like… we’ve been a band since we were fourteen, I’m twenty-nine, right.” He said with a pointed look in her direction. “We’re like brothers, we love each other. I have amazing opportunities like this,” He gestured around the studio, “I have my health, I have all these things. There’s not a lot of people around me who allow stuff like… hard drug use. And that’s really annoying when you’re a drug addict. But it also makes you reflect, you know what I mean? Because you just end up lying, and being a version of yourself that- but that’s part of the sickness. You incentivise things weirdly.” He explained with a shrug.
“And the rehab centre you went to was in Barbados?” She asked. He nodded in response. “I heard that the band paid for that?”
His expression visibly softened when she brought that up. “Yeah. I think the nice story was that uh… Obviously, I’m in a fortunate place in my career that - obviously I have to think about those kind of financial things - but before I went I was kind of thinking ‘I’ll sort that out when I’m out there’ and then I remember saying to Jamie ‘oh-‘ and he was like ‘aw nah, nah, it’s all sorted’ and I was like ‘Oh, how much did it - what was it?’ and he was like ‘oh, well we just did it out the band’ and I was like ‘oh really??’ “ He seemed visibly touched by this story, even retelling it now.
“That was pretty amazing of them to do.”
“Yeah… Yeah, it was.” He muttered, still clearly caught up in his own thoughts. “And you know what, if you want a band to last forever, share.” He added simply.
“And this place you went to, supposedly they do a bunch of stuff with horses?” She asked in confusion. When she had heard this information, she was almost certain she had gotten her wires crossed, but Matty was already confirming what she had said.
“Equine therapy, yeah! It was, basically…” He started trying to explain, before cracking a smile and looking across to her. “In reality what it was, for the first two or three days was me stood in a field rolling my eyes next to a horse.” He said with a laugh. “That’s what it was really. This guy put me in a field with a horse and was like ‘talk to the horse’ so I’m like” He gave a sarcastic look, “ ‘…all right?’ So, he leaves me alone and I’m like ‘hey man’ and the horse obviously didn’t say anything.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “And then he put me in the round pen, right. He put me in this pen which was just round – was a good explanation of it.” He reprimanded himself with a snort. “And I stood in the middle, and basically he said ‘I want you to walk towards the horse. It’s gonna send the horse around in a loop, and I want you to assert your position. You’re not going to get the horse. You’re just telling the horse that this is where you’re going’. All this stuff. So, I do it. And he goes ‘you’ll notice three things, at one point the horse will dip its head, then it’ll bow its ear to you, then it’ll start biting its lips. Once it’s done these three things, I want you to turn your back and drop the rope.’ So, I’m like right, lips, thing, do this, yep. And the horse is running, the horse is running, I watched for these three cues, and I dropped the rope and I turned round. The horse stopped dead.” He clapped his hands together for emphasis, staring at her seriously.
“I swear to you, it was one of the most profound moments of my life. The horse stopped dead, came over to me and stood behind me – and this is a horse that for three days had mugged me off. And I was… stood there with this horse, that now… wanted to be with me?” He seemed entirely perplexed by this. “Then when I walked it wouldn’t cross my feet,” He gestured to his feet as he said this, knocking his microphone in the process. “Sorry, I keep hitting the microphone. Way too gesticulated today. Erm, when I went into the field and hung out with it, it wanted to be with me. And then I stood there and was like ‘Ah… Right…’ Then all of these profound things… It was so…” He tried his best to find the words. “It ate everything it needed to eat, and didn’t complain about it, and didn’t eat too much of it, and ate the right stuff. It had the ability to destroy anything it wanted, but the desire to hurt nothing. It was physically perfect and strong. It was forgiving with its time with me. And it was kind of compassionate in a way, ‘cause he’s a horse, he doesn’t want me there, he just wants to be a horse. But he let me be there.” It was abundantly clear how much of an impact this experience had on Matty. He spoke about it so passionately that it was hard not to feel moved by what he was saying. “I found myself envying all of these human qualities in a horse. And I think that was the point of it…” He said with a look of finality. “At least, I hope that was the point of it. Otherwise I’ve screwed it up and learned nothing.” He laughed loudly. “But it worked for me.”
“How are you finding it? Being off the drugs?” She asked, leaning back in her seat after having been leant forward in interest for the last few minutes as he told his story.
He pulled a face as he tried to answer that in a manner suitable for a mass radio audience. “I mean… I wouldn’t say I’m this ‘beacon of sobriety’ “ He punctuated that with air quotes, “that’s kind of, telling you how it is to be an ex addict. I don’t know.” He answered sincerely. “I’ve not gone long enough. I’m not gonna start talking about ‘I haven’t done drugs in five years - ten years’ it was only a few months ago. I was still doing loads of them.” He said as he scratched at his neck.
“Is it harder now without them?”
“I don’t sleep as good as I used to with it, but I’m getting by.” He replied with a nod. “I’m all right with sleeping now. The band and my girlfriend have been really supportive and helpful. I’m doing all the things now that I used to do when I took drugs all the time. So, I’ve just made a record without doing it all the time,” He ticked that off on a finger, “so that was an experience, that was a challenge. I’ve now started touring without doing it all the time,” He ticked that off as well, “that’s an experience, that’s a challenge. I’m now about to start getting on planes all the time and touring internationally,” He added that to the list, “that’ll be a challenge. But you’ve just gotta take it day by day as the cliché says, or you’ll freak yourself out.”
“You talk about drugs pretty freely in your music, but you don’t really speak about it in interviews, was that to try and stay… disconnected from it to some degree? Did you think it was going to get as bad as it did?” She asked. She had entirely tuned out of the fan questions being sent in now, asking these questions almost purely from her own curiosity to know what had happened to the Matty she knew.
“No, no, no… I didn’t. I mean, I think the thing that I think I always have confidence in is that because I’ve – regardless of if it’s drugs or relationships - the main thing I’ve done with The 1975 is spoken about myself with kind of quite a profound disdain.” He answered. “There’s not really been a celebration of the behaviour. I think that if I was ever romanticising or fetishizing the use of drugs, I think I’d catch myself doing it. And if I ever have done that in a lyric, it will be immediately met with a lyric that shows that one up to be ironic or flawed.” He elaborated. That made sense. Most of his songs did reflect that attitude. “I’ve just had to be honest. Religion allows you to kind of give something away, sex, exactly the same thing. They’re just ways of giving up some kind of responsibility in the moment. But by that point I’d done ‘em all!” He grinned, still trying to keep the mood light despite the heavy topic. “Drugs was the only one left.”
She stared at him for a moment, just taking in all of the information he’d given her in such a short timeframe. It was a lot to process all at once, but it made a lot of the pieces click into place and answered a lot of questions that had kept her up at night when they had lost contact. Eventually she clocked back into reality, seeing that he was watching her just as intently as she had been watching him while he had divulged some of the most intimate aspects of his life.
“So, to a lighter note-” She segued.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind talking about it.” He said with a chuckle.
She smiled back at him, “I’m sure our listeners have enjoyed hearing it all in such great detail. But, there are some other big events that have been happening in your life as well that we haven’t brought up.” She said.
“Oh?”
“The 1975 will be headlining Reading and Leeds next year.”
“Yes!” He beamed. “It’s our first big headline festival. It gets me proper emotional. We didn’t just go as kids, after I got to thirteen, Christmas took a back seat and the date on my calendar was Reading and Leeds. I went one year with a tenner and no tent. I mean, I’ve had some moments there. It’ll definitely be a very humble show. All of this ego and confidence here will be gone.” He scoffed, “ ‘Honestly guys, thanks so much for coming.’ ” He said in a feigned blubbering emotional voice, before giggling at himself. “But like, we’ve just become a really good band in my opinion. I think we could headline Reading and Leeds tomorrow if you asked us to.”
“Are you particularly excited to have content off the new album to perform there?”
“Definitely. There are some songs on there that will be added into the festival setlists. It was about creating a distillation of what preceded it. Everything needed to be better, more extreme. Poppy bits poppier, heavy bits heavier, honest bits more honest.” He explained with a nod. “You can look at your work and be like ‘what did I do there that someone likes’ or ‘let’s try and do that piano thing’. Me, when I’m like, really personal, really honest, that’s when I get the best reaction. So, I just tend to do that. Like what’s gonna make me, y’know-“ He started pretending to tear up for emphasis.
“And you guys are already working on the next album, Notes on a Conditional Form? This one’s not even out yet!”
He just laughed. “We went away and what happened was, we finished A Brief Inquiry, kind of had a week off and then we started with Notes. I’m just letting it happen.” He shrugged. “I’m letting it happen in the next six months. It’ll be before…” He seemed to be doing some calculations in his head. “August. It has to be in time for Reading and Leeds.” He added decisively.
Glancing down at the clock on the screen next to her, she could see that they had in fact gone over time. “Well, as always Matty, it’s been lovely having you on the show, but I think we have to wrap it up so you can scoot over to the live lounge and get yourself set up.” She said with a small sigh, disappointed that the interview had to end after how well it had been going. Matty had felt entirely captivating as he spoke today, clearly on his game.
“God, this’ll be the first time we’ve played together in… ages.” He said as he pulled a hand through his hair and leaned back into his chair. “And we’ve not played these songs live yet, either. This will be the debut.”
“Incredibly exciting.” She nodded. “So, I’ll let you go. Tune in folks in half an hour, The 1975 will be playing a short set for us of songs from their new album, A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships, in the live lounge.” She spoke into the microphone, before rounding out the interview.
Matty didn’t move from his chair across from her as she switched the camera feed off and switched over to the next round of tracks.
“Are you coming?” He asked as soon as she took her headset off. “To the live lounge?” He clarified.
Her shift was meant to end in just over twenty minutes, and they started in thirty. She could probably finish up quickly enough to make it down there in time. “Yeah, I can do that.” She said with a nod.
He grinned eagerly, “It’ll be wicked to have you there for it.”
“It’s probably about time I saw you guys play.” She laughed as he stood up.
“I’ll see you shortly.” He said over his shoulder as he made his way out of the studio.
* * *
By the time she made her way down to the live lounge quite a crowd had already formed. Her handover between shifts had been fairly rushed in an attempt to get out of there quickly, but obviously The 1975 knew how to draw an audience. She managed to squeeze her way through a few crew members to get a decent enough viewing point. Whenever she caught Matty’s gaze, he waved at her excitedly. She waved back, suddenly feeling a bout of nerves at the thought of finally watching him in action. Once the cameras were set up and all of the equipment had done one final round of checks, they launched into quite a boppy first song. She recognised this instantly as Tootime, as it had been her favourite of the singles that were released. He sounded a bit rusty and raw, which thankfully he could cover with the filter over his voice, but his enthusiasm to be performing again was unmistakable. The looks he was throwing to his band were nothing short of ecstatic, and despite being out of practice they played the song flawlessly. They finished up the first song, and he shrugged off his yellow jacket as they changed their gear over for the next two. Their little live set was only three songs long in the end, but they felt It’s Not Living and Sincerity Is Scary were excellent choices to best get across the vibe of the new album. After seeing what they could do in a tiny room with minimal fanfare, she was suddenly kicking herself for never getting out to one of their live shows.
When they had wrapped up the set, Matty started packing away his gear before seeing her starting to leave. He quickly dropped what he was doing and called out to her to wait up. She turned to face him, as he suddenly realised that he hadn’t worked out what to actually say. “Look, I’m sorry about… how I’ve been lately.” He eventually settled on.
“It’s okay, you were going through a rough time.” She reassured him.
“I was,” He nodded, “but it’s not really an excuse.” He added with a sigh. “Can I take you out to lunch after this? To apologise properly.” He asked with a hopeful look.
“You don’t have to-” She started, before he interrupted.
“I know I don’t have to - I want to.” He corrected. She considered this offer for a moment. “Please?”
“Sure.” She nodded, trying to conceal her smile. “That’d be nice.”
She waited patiently as he packed up his gear, feeling slightly awkward for loitering around a studio that wasn’t hers while she watched everyone else clear out. Once everything seemed fairly put away, he exchanged a quiet word with the band and walked over to where she was standing.
“Any preferences for where we eat? It’s your apology lunch, after all.” He said as he slipped his jacket back on.
She grimaced at his choice of words. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Why?” He laughed.
“It makes me feel worse than I already do.”
“Suppose we’ll just feel bad together, then.” He said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and ushered her back out of the building. She couldn’t deny, it felt nice to be seeing Matty act more like he had when they’d first met. Whether that was because she enjoyed the attention or because it was nice to see her friend feeling more himself was up for debate.
Due to neither of them being the one to want to make the call about where to eat, for fear of the other not enjoying it, they ended up going to the only place that served food within their direct eyeline – a bakery. It made her feel less like she was taking advantage too for him to only have to pay for pastries and coffee, not a proper fancy meal with drinks. They caught each other up on the fine points of their lives that they’d missed out on hearing over the last few years: highlights in careers, people who’d come and gone, other artists they’d met that had proved to be noteworthy (for good reasons and bad). It was incredibly reassuring for the both of them to know that conversation still flowed easily enough between them when they weren’t actively disliking each other.
“Sorry if the interview was a bit… too personal. We didn’t really talk about the record all that much, in the end.” She said, thinking back to how long they’d spent discussing his drug habits rather than his impending album release.
“Stop apologising.” He said around a mouthful of food. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying sorry. And I’m sure the fans would’ve liked it.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to force stuff out of you for the sake of entertainment.”
“Like I said, I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t want to.” He reminded her.
He waited a beat, composing what he had originally wanted to say today before clearing his throat. “I really am sorry, you know. For how I left things.” He said as he stared down into his mug of tea.
“It’s genuinely okay, Matty.” She reassured him. “I wasn’t really any better.” She added under her breath.
“I was just a bit oblivious and hopeful when I fucked stuff up initially. I wanted to act like I hadn’t dropped off your radar for two years.” He admitted as he scratched at the side of his head. “If I’m honest, I was reaching out to get some support from an old mate in a time when I felt pretty overwhelmed by everything that was happening. But I went about it in all the wrong ways and just made it a whole lot worse.” He clarified with a dry laugh. As if she hadn’t already felt bad enough, now he tells her that she’d shut him out when he had been trying to ask for help? The guilt increased tenfold.
“Sorry.” She said. He was about to tell her off again for apologising, but she cut him off. “I was already pretty shitty that I hadn’t seen you in so long, so I was pretty quick to want to end that interaction when things started getting… difficult.” She explained.
“Guess you live and learn, huh?” He said with a small smile. “At least we’re still mates now.” Hearing him say that helped ease a bit of her worry that she’d done as much to fuck things up as he had. At least now that it was all out in the open, they could move past it.
“Yeah.” She concurred, returning his smile. They finished up the pastries that Matty had bought before stepping out of the bakery. Both of them felt like a weight had been lifted now that they knew they hadn’t screwed stuff up for good between them. Having each said their piece, they were pretty confident that they could give friendship another shot.
“It was great to see you.” He said as he pulled her in for a hug tight enough that it almost made her lose her breath.
“Next time we’ll have to make sure it’s not so long.” She said as he moved back from the hug.
“We’ll keep in touch.” He agreed with a nod. “And I mean it this time.”
