That 000000 & ffffff || Matty Healy

Your Kitchen Full Of Popstars

/ / Y O U R K I T C H E N F U L L O F P O P S T A R S / /

"You're avoiding Grammy," Jamie accuses when I open the door to my apartment. I haven't been in here for a while now, but I'm surprised to note that nothing has changed. I somehow envisioned charred up furniture and soot on the walls. Anna is the safest pyromaniac I know, but granted, she's the only pyromaniac I know and sometimes the kitchen curtains get set on fire.

"Am not," I mumble childishly, fixing my new set of bangs distractedly. I totally am. I haven't spoken to her when I came out of the hospital; I hardly waved and trudged up to my room. She didn't live too far away but she was always a busy body. I hadn't expected her to say anything to me, and she's lived up to it. She was only there to babysit Ari. I'm sure my dads had told her the gist of the situation, but I'm also sure she believes that some way or the other, I ultimately deserved it.

Anna chuckles, coming out of the kitchen while mixing a big bowl of frosting. "Are too," she says in a singsong voice. "Welcome home, baby!"

I roll my eyes, tugging off my shoes and bounding to the sofa, flopping down nest to Jamie. He had been texting, so he presses the lock on his phone then tosses it to the side, opening his arm for me to nestle in. "Why are you avoiding Grammy?" I roll my eyes like he does t already know anyways. My grandmother was not the easiest or nicest person. God fearing and all, she might not make it to the pearly gates.

I lay my head on Jamie's lap and he places his arm around me. I lift my shirt up, making light of the situation, "Look, I've got battle scars."

"Does it hurt?" Jamie asks quietly, his fingers twitching lightly and then he places the tip of his pointer finger to the pink scar on the side of my pelvis that dips into my pants.

I watch him tread carefully, "Not anymore."

"So... Grammy?"

I pout, giving in, "I don't know, I just don't want her to interrogate me and secretly belittle me. She's only just accepted Papa being gay —sort of; I know she's going to talk some shit about me being improper and...sinful. Besides, I haven't been going to church since I met Matty, I'm sure she's noticed. She'll probably tell me the whole...pregnancy was God's punishment for me or some shit."

"Yeah," Anna mutters from the kitchen, "Grammy's a right bitch. She thinks we're out here having orgies daily, you know that, Jamie." I've never been close with Grammy; she was keen on abandoning Papa after finding out about his sexuality. She had mentioned something about God being forgiving, so that might be the only reason she occasionally calls. She wasn't the type of grandma to bake cookies and tell me embarrassing stories about my parents; she was one to have me in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning or at Bible study interpreting the word of God. She didn't like my friends, they were too open with their sexuality, they were living in sin and they were belligerent. Blah blah blah.

Jamie wrinkles his nose, "I thought she was being more open, damn, sue me for being curious."

"You're not usually curious," I say thoughtfully.

"I am," he admits, "I'm just too lazy to ask, usually. Besides, you tell me eventually."

"Hey," Anna calls from the kitchen, "Is she coming to your birthday dinner?"

I think my heart actually stopped at the mention of her being there. "I hope not," I mutter, because, Matty will be there. Someone whose life is devoted to the word of God and someone who doesn't even believe in his existence. I know Matty is petulant and outspoken about it, I know he won't outright point out things that are scientifically plausible rather than spiritually plausible - he'll keep it in, maybe stifle some laughter, but he won't be ignorant to someone else's personal belief. Grammy on the other hand, she would provoke the hell out of him, and I don't want there to be strife the day they meet.