what the fuck?? • matt sturniolo

32. feels so right

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𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗜 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗬, and he parks the car in the warehouse's driveway.

the warehouse 79 is laura's, the triplets and my meeting spots. it's where we meet with investors, talk about merch drops, and it's just a place to focus on work without being in our own house and getting distracted by all the other things we could be doing if we were there.

we basically work from home, except the home is the warehouse.

and it's where the party is.

we get out of the car, and i immediately hear the muffled music coming from inside. that, and the colored lights.

the fact that there are people outside talking and smoking with cups in hand also makes it clear that this is a pretty big party.

honestly, parties make me anxious. they always have. but it's because there are always a lot of people, so much noise, and too many things going on for my mind to process, so i get anxious.

but i want this one to be different, because i'm around people that i love and that love me, and it's a celebration for a huge accomplishment in my life.

i'm trying to go in with no expectations though, because if i get anxious, i know it's not my fault, but i feel like it is sometimes, especially when my expectations were high.

and i don't want them to be low, either, 'cause i do think i'll have a lot of fun and a really nice time, but i'm not going in and thinking it'll be the best party of my life, because then, if it isn't, it just gets much worse.

"you've got your deep thinking face on. what's on your mind, bells?" matt asks, looking down at me with a smile and breaking me out of my trance as we start walking towards the entrance.

i grin. "just thinking about life." i say vaguely.

he laughs. "what about life?" he asks again, insisting for an answer.

i sigh. "you're gonna make me explain everything, aren't you?" i smile.

he nods. "yep, so you better get to it."

"fine, but the music's going to be loud inside, and there's so much smoke here, i feel like i'm going to get lung cancer already." i joke.

my grandpa died of lung cancer.

he used to smoke a lot, my mom says. i was about seven or eight when we lost him, and i was devastated. i think about him a lot, i talk to him a lot too, in my mind.

other people pray, i speak to my grandpa, because i hold out hope that he can hear me.

but i joke about it, because i don't really know how to cope. even after years of therapy.

but still. it's all good.

matt studies my face. "alright, well let's go someplace quieter." he suggests, taking my hand and leading me to a small alley at the side of the warehouse.

once we're there, crammed up in the space that's so tiny our bodies almost touch, i explain what i was thinking about before, still wondering why the boy was so curious about it.

"hmm. so you think having too high expectations is bad, but having them too low is also bad?" he asks, norrowing his eyes in slight confusion.

i nod. "exactly. do you remember when we were in fist grade?" i ask, receiving a nod from matt in response. "we went on a school trip at the end of the year, the one that lasted three whole days?"