this is how it starts || m.h

1) alcohol

The taste of alcohol was still strong on my tongue as I laid with my face pressed into the pillows, a headache already making itself present. My throat felt like sand paper and if it wasn't for the fact that I was currently in a hotel room, I probably wouldn't have moved for at least another five hours.

But just as I was about to push myself up off the mattress, the events of last night flickered through my mind, leaving me frozen as I prayed to God that it was all just a dream, a figment of my imagination. But when I lifted my head from the pillows to look to the side, I was met with a mess of dark curls splayed out over the pillow beside me, the man I had slept with still unconscious.

I carefully swung my legs over the side of the bed, choosing to bury my face in my hands for a moment before getting up.

I would say I was never going to drink again, but then I'd be lying, considering I'd done this dance many times before. It had just never ended with me waking up next to my latest mistake. I think I much preferred being met with the sight of the toilet bowl after waking up.

After a moment of attempting to compose myself, I finally started to stand up, but before I could take one step away from the bed, I heard movement behind me. I practically shot away from the bed, spinning around to find him hunched over now, a rather familiar looking tattoo covering his arm. And then I saw his face...and I had never been more mortified.

"Oh my God." I found myself saying, my eyes widening in shock.

"I know I look rough love, but there's no need to react like that."

"Oh fuck." I continued on, still struggling to comprehend what was happening. "How the fuck did I manage to jump into bed with you of all people?"

He waved a hand at me then, clearly becoming offended. "Look, I know you're probably regretting last night, but there's no need to start insulting me."

"No, I'm not insulting you." I tried to explain. "It's just...how did I manage to sleep with Matty fucking Healy?"

"That still sounds like an insult."

"Just...you can't mention this to anyone--not that you would--but please...can we just pretend this never happened?"

"So I take it you're not a fan then?" He asked, standing up and stretching.

"I mean--yeah, but I'm not so obsessed I'd want to sleep with you."

A silence pressed in over us then, and he raised an eyebrow at me as if to tell me how ironic that sentence was. I had already heard it the second the words came out of my mouth.

"You know what I mean."

I stood there in silence, the creased material of my black dress still hanging off my shoulders, and I was struggling to pull my eyes away from his bare chest. As much as I was regretting jumping into bed with him, I couldn't deny that he was one of the better options I could've picked.

"You know for someone who was just freaking out about last night, you seem to be staring an awful lot." He suddenly said, snapping me out of my trance.

"Sorry."

We both fell into silence again then as I made my way back over to the bed in search of my previously discarded underwear.

But it wasn't quiet for long as Matty seemed to be intent on making conversation with me. "So are you coming to the show tomorrow then?"

I just shrugged as I retrieved my underwear from under the bed and stuffed them in my purse. "Couldn't get tickets, so no, sorry."

There was another short silence between us before Matty spoke again. "Want me to put you on the guest list?"

"No thanks."

"Why not? I don't mind."

"Because this is how it starts, isn't it? You do me a favour, then I'll feel fucking indebted to you with likely no way to pay you back. Not to mention the fact that it just feels dirty to accept this from you after what we did last night."

He just laughed. "You know I'm not offering to put you on the guest list just 'cause we had sex, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. Doesn't make it any less weird though."

"Look, I'll tell you what? I'll put you on the guest list, you come and see the show, and we can just pretend last night never happened, yeah?" He proposed, effortlessly throwing his crumpled black dress shirt on.

"Alright." I sighed. "Thanks."

"No problem." He smiled, giving me a small nod. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Serena Clarke."

"Nice to meet you, Serena Clarke."