Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

//his hair, his smoke, his dreams//

{HELLO ALL. I had originally hyped you guys up for a holiday chapter, but it didn't happen well with the story. There's a little mention of it, but not much. Sorry to be a Grinch. Please enjoy this chapter, I rewrote it about four times before it felt right. My apologies for any mistakes. }

{Please play "Colors" by Halsey and "Settle Down" by your favorite band The 1975}

FIVE MONTHS LATER.

{Matty's POV}

"You really shouldn't eat those, mate," I said to George as he sat in the mini-kitchen of our tour bus, devouring a cupcake some of our American fans had given us at the meet and greet.

George shrugged and continued eating it anyways. The cupcakes were all decorated with sugar-paper photos of our faces with frosting hair to match. Mine was a curly mop, George's was a yellow-and-brown mess, Hann's was perfectly whisped across his right eye, and Ross's was a blunt line across his head. It had a frosting beard as well.

The four of us had fallen victims to 21st century technology. Adam was glued to his iPad, probably looking at pictures of antique guitars or his girlfriend Chelsea's tits or something. George was texting someone, most likely Claire. Ross was FaceTiming his very pregnant fiance. I was being dramatic on Twitter.

"How are my babies?" Ross asked Tinnie.

Tinsley's face was growing a little fuller, and her belly was growing quite full with the twins she was carrying and set to give birth to in a few months.

"They're awful, awful little girls," Tinsley said, her voice sardonic and proud at the same time. "And they kick the shit out of me when they hear 'Heart Out'. Isn't that cute?"

Ross' face was so tired, but it lit up when he saw Tinsley, especially when she talked about their baby girls. He was going to be a Dad. His e-mail address was still "urmom69@gmail.com" and he was going to be Dad.

He was going to be a great one, though. He and Tinsley had bought a house before we left for the tour, it was this gorgeous cottage-like thing that reminded me of a Ginerbread house. Hann had bought an apartment with Chelsea in Manchester, while George and I had upgraded to two apartments on the same floor of a nice building in London.

The money was nice. The fame was something I relished in. The drugs were fucking amazing. The fans were crazy. I was excited, grateful, honored, having the time of my life.

But I wasn't happy. And I hadn't been since the day Claire and I split. I had totally, completely, unapologetically fucked it up. I had truly believed that she and George were sleeping together, and Harper turning my face to see the two of them grinding on each other at the club didn't exactly give me much doubt. When Harper asked if I wanted to do some X, I was all in.

I was a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. I wanted Claire to see me, absolutely. I wanted her to feel all the pain I was feeling. And that son of a bitch George too. Out of sheer spite, I let Harper take me back to her apartment and I literally passed out as she was blowing me.

Harper wasn't exactly happy with me for a while, but we're good now.

Claire hates me now, I'm sure. But not more than I hate myself.

As angry as I was with my best friend, I never brought the fact that I knew something had happened between he and Claire. He called me a twat about a thousand times after she and I broke up, and barely spoke to me for a few weeks, but, because he's George and has a heart of gold, he eventually forgave me.