Baby Daddy! °Matty Healy°

°34°

Matty's POV:

I stared at my phone blankly as George's name flashed up on the screen for a seventh time in a row, repeatedly.

But I wasn't in the mood for a lecture. I knew George, and I knew his ways. I knew for a fact he will have been grilling the truth and the facts out of Taylor on the long ride back with him offering to take her back home. And George being George, would obviously have to stick his ten pence worth in. Ever the Saint.

Was I slightly infuriated that my best friend had offered to take home the girl I was obviously angry with? Without asking me first? Running it by me? A little bit. Rather a lot. Possibly more than I had a right to be.
But I knew it came down to him just being a good fucking human being, bottom line. But I was aware, for some pathetic, unknown reason, this situation had made me jealous, and that was the problem here, more than anything else.

A huge part of me wanted to answer it, but at the same time I really didn't. I only wanted to know my son and his mother had gotten home safely, check they were okay; as can be. But I couldn't be fucked with any awkward tension with G, with my mind running away with itself, assuming shit was happening when it's likely just my own guilty conscience out to make a prat of me.

I was now aware I had some sort of feelings for Taylor. Further more than her just being the mother of my child. Besides her being the girl I had yet another one night stand with only last week. There was something there, and though I couldn't quite pin point what it was, it was sitting there, multiplying rapidly. Confusing me further. And I wasn't dealing well with it, quite clearly.

Never in my life had I lost it like that, with anyone, from any situation. I'm as confused as anyone that I took it that far. Said the things I did and lashed out to a point I put my hands on a woman and petrified the life out of her.

I can't get my head around it, nor do I expect anyone to understand or even forgive me. Because I highly doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself. The weight of the guilt and hate for myself right now was aching heavily in my chest.

I sat, still in the same bar I'd been in with Ross for the past few hours. Downing glasses of whiskey like it was running out.

"For god sake, just answer it" Ross groaned, as my ringtone sounded around us again and that same name took up my screen. He stood, downing the last of the contents in his glass before reaching and grabbing for my empty one to go re-fill them. Having told him about everything that had happened, it was obvious he was feeling the need to stick around and look after me. "Matty?" He questioned when I still made no effort to answer.

"Sorry" I muttered quickly before reluctantly pressing the phone to my ear. "George?"

I was instantly alert as the sound of sirens echoed in the background. I could hear words being exchanged and Timmy screaming himself hoarse. Instantly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as fear thrashed into me.

"Mate, you need to get to the hospital, now. Right now!" He snapped. Causing me to flinch away from the phone for a second.

"What's happened to him?" I blurted, anger suddenly taking over. It was now obvious they were in an ambulance. Ross's gaze suddenly darted over in this direction, having heard my loud words being shot down the line. My hand instantly clutched at my hair, waiting on him to fill me in quickly and communicate.

"It's Taylor-"

"Oh, thank god!" The words left my mouth without even realising. That's not what I meant, at all. It was just the relief that it wasn't Timmy who was hurt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He bit back instantly, his voice laced with disgust at my ridiculous words.

"No, I mean- sorry. I wasn't meaning it like.... That. I just- Timmy is okay though?"

Ross was now back, plonking the glass down in front of me and I found myself downing the whole lot before he'd even got back seated in the booth opposite me.

"I'll get you another" he mouthed and took himself off again with my glass. Though his expression was now concerned, as he kept looking back over, no doubt trying to figure what was going on.

"He's fine. Just traumatised. Taylor on the other hand, isn't!"

"What's happened?" Now the panic was setting in. Maybe the alcohol wasn't helping and making me think erratically but I suddenly stood, sluggishly trying to get out of the booth I was sat at, stumbling into the table a few times, the glasses being knocked over and smashed on my exit. Catching punters' attention. But I wasn't hanging around. I was straight outside, the fresh air forcing much needed air into my lungs. But also intoxicating me further.

"I dunno, a brick came through the window. It caught her head-"

"A brick?" I barked back in shock. Not allowing him to finish.

"Yeah, fuck knows where it came from. Someone had wrote "slut" on it. Someone's clearly targeted her. I don't-"

But half way through his sentence, I was zoning out. How was he now with Taylor? How was he with her on the way to the hospital? How did he know this had even happened? Again I was cutting off his words.

"Y-you stayed with her, in Manchester?" I seethed, now struggling to get hold of my temper.

"What? No I-" he sighed suddenly. "She didn't go home, Matty. She's still here"

"But you said!" I snapped. "You said you were taking her home. Why? I mean, you lied. Why would you do that?"

A long pause filled the line. As though he now didn't know what to say. But he was going to tell me and tell me now, what the fuck is going on.

"Can you not do this now? We're on the way to the hospital, meet us there"

"Fuck you, we're doing this now!" I shot back, the alcohol in my system turning me into a thoughtless prick again.

"Matty!" George warned. "For once in your fucking life, don't make this about you. She's losing a lot of blood from her head, she's unconscious. I have your son here who's petrified and needs you. Get to the fucking hospital, and we'll talk later!"

"Fine" I muttered. Knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it. "But when I get there, you leave. I mean it, you're gone"

The second I was in my car, parked out front, Ross was stumbling out of the doorway of the pub.

"The fuck you doing, you're gonna kill someone!" He shouted across at me, aiming to stop this immediately.

But I wasn't willing to listen, I ragged at the seatbelt, buckling up before attempting to get the key in the ignition.

"Matty!?" Ross bit. Losing his patience with me, now heading for the car to attempt to stop me driving off. But once the car revved to life, it was too late, and I was gone. The only thing I could think of was my son scared, alone. Taylor, laid there lifeless... And the two of them. Shacking up behind my back. Playing happy families, making a fool out of me after they bare face lied to me.

I wasn't aware what I was going to do when I got there and saw George around my family, but we were gonna find out.