You (Matty Healy)

// CHAPTER SIXTY ONE //

(A/N Please don't forget to vote, and watch the ads if they come up - it'd really help me out! Thank u <3 

Also this chapter was submitted to my uni assignment as 'research based' so if there's a lot of focus on something that doesn't seem too important - a.k.a how Mississippi still have no smoking bans in place etc, that's why)

Matty's P.O.V

I walked into my flat and slammed the door closed.
"God damn man, what's wrong with you now?" Ross groaned, rolling his eyes at me. I scowled back at him and slumped down on the sofa. The whole place looked so bare now – the boys had obviously been hard at work packing everything up in my absence. 

"What do you think?" I grimaced, pulling a joint from my pocket. It was bent at a weird angle, but that wouldn't stop me smoking it.
"Callum and Avery, still? Just let it go already!" Adam shouted from the bedroom. I could detect the annoyance in his voice, and I knew he was probably giving me the finger whilst shielded from view. I glared at the bedroom door and raised both of my own middle fingers to it, miming the words 'fuck off' and shaking my head about, trying to release some stress without actually starting something. I catch George out of the corner of my eye, and he's giggling at me. I smirk right back at him, before lighting my doob and placing it in my mouth. It hung limply from my lips.

"Could you not wait until we got back to the hotel to spark up?" George asked, walking over to me and plonking himself next to me. He took the joint from my lips and placed it within his own, and I watched the red light flare as he inhaled.
"Not since 2007." I scoffed.
"Oh yeah. Keep thinking we're still in Mississippi." George sighed, passing the doob back to me. I pinched it between my middle and index fingers. "You forget how naff things are in England sometimes."
"Tell me about it." I winced, rubbing my temples with my spare hand. I instantly flashed back to the events of today – listening in on Callum's plan to 'win over' Avery, arguing with Avery, finding out that Emily was pregnant from Avery... It was maddening how months ago I wouldn't have even dreamed about being trapped in a circle of never-ending drama, especially surrounding one girl.
"Anyway, best be off. Want to actually sit down on some comfy furniture, me." George yawned, pushing himself up from the sofa. Adam and Ross followed his cue and began to walk towards the exit, all of them looking exhausted. "Ya coming?"
"Nah, I'll stick around here for a bit, get my head straight. Go on, do one." I smiled weakly, waving them all off. They looked at each other unsurely, before shrugging their shoulders and closing the door behind them.

I sighed, thankful that I finally had some alone time and a place to chill out. My place. I took a deep breath, smelling the remaining, mixed aromas of beer, sweat and spliff that had taken residence in the past two years. I was sad to be leaving this grotty little flat in the outskirts of London that I'd grown to love. Everything was changing lately, a couple of months ago, my band was still fresh, new, unheard of. Now we're signed, staying in swanky hotels whilst our tour bus is done up before our scheduled appearances. Girls were screaming my name, wearing our band tee's, learning all the lyrics to my songs. I should be happy with the success, but I was far from it.

My cravings still hadn't disappeared. The red bumps on my arm were increasing, and it was becoming harder to hide them all the time. George had noticed a difference, constantly asking if I was okay, but the other's just put it down to my 'break-up' Avery. Maybe it was partly that, it had definitely gotten worse these past couple of weeks, but I had nobody to blame but myself. I was just so, so tired all of the time. I needed the pick me up. Starting up this habit again was the worst thing I'd ever done, but at the same time it made me feel things for a change. I felt alive. But the heroin wasn't enough.

I made my way towards my bedroom. It was bare apart from the cardboard boxes piled by the door and the mattress on the floor. The boys really had got their heads together and got everything done. A pang of guilt came over me, but was quickly replaced by the need to itch at my arms. I quickly abided, scratching at my arms until they were raw. I dropped to my knees whilst doing so, trying to find the loose floorboard by the corner of my room. It was hard to place where everything once was now that all my belonging were now living in cardboard boxes. I found it once I'd heard the familiar creaking from underneath my knee, and I scrambled to wrench it away. Off it came, and I tossed the piece of wood to the side before reaching in to the dark hole and pulling out a Tupperware box.

I opened it up, searching through the box frantically. Out tumbled rolling paper, tin foil, needles, small spoons, pipes and lighters amongst other things. But all of these were worthless compared to what I needed. That's when I finally found it. I could feel my face light up as I finally found my small bag of white powder that I'd stashed away. The last time I'd come this close to using it was back in Manchester at 18, desperately trying to ween myself off it. I'd succeeded, but now I craved nothing more. With shaking hands, I emptied the powder onto the floor, and divided it into sloppy lines with my finger. Taking a deep breath, I closed one of my nostrils with my finger and hovered my face above the powder, before snorting it up. I felt it sting at my throat, but my mood had immediately been lifted within seconds.

I lay down on the floor, feeling the cold of the floorboards seep through my shirt and prickle my back. I closed my eyes, thinking back to Manchester and my first interaction with cocaine. Young, having already dabbled in everything and anything – legal and illegal. Nos, MDMA... all sorts. Having friends at uni was great, everyone had access to everything, and if they didn't, you only had to hunt around your friend's numbers to find someone who did. A lot had changed since then, I'd aged, lost contact with a lot of people and made friends with a bunch more. But one thing that hadn't changed, was that I was as fucked up as I was all those years ago.