𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒

How can I relate to somebody who doesn't speak?

I took another sip from my glass of wine. Its sour taste made my nose wrinkle.

We were still in the backstage of Primavera Sound. Charlie and Alex saw Madison Beer and tried to flirt with her but I don't think it was working.

"Boys" Keith commented.

"Now you know what we feel everytime you and Natalie act like two lovebirds, and we're on the back like 'duh are you done?'"

"We don't act like lovebirds" he said. "And you can't talk. You've spent all The 1975 performance looking at the singer with heart eyes"

I nudged him. "That's not true"

I stared at the bottom of my glass, swinging the red liquid. After Robbers I couldn't watch the performance any longer. A strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't look anymore. I wasn't made for relationships, I wasn't made for commitment. It wasn't a matter of how much I liked the person I was with, I just didn't know how to handle a relationship without feeling the urge to escape from it. The problem was, I really liked Matty. The way he looked. The way he spoke. The way he thought. But I knew it wasn't enough, and I would have run away from him anyway, cause I didn't know how to stay. I would have tore my own heart in two. Yeah, self-harm sucks.

"Can I take a sip too?"

His voice gave me a heart attack. His hands on mine gave me another one. Matty arrived behind me, took my hand and drank the wine from my glass.

"Are we in the mood for partying, love?" he asked, moving his hips. A song was playing and it was rubbish, but Matty's moves were captivating. My hand was still wrapped around my glass and his hand was still wrapped around my hand. His long fingers caressed mine as I looked at him with a sudden coyness, but for some reasons I couldn't look away. He kept dancing on me - literally on me, rubbing up against me, like I did against random guys in the clubs. But Matty was anything but random. Cigarette in hand, he was both punk and glam, so cool I felt uncomfortable. I forgot how to move. I just stood there, cold as ice. Why is it so hard to be cool around people that are cool for you?

"Finish it, I - I don't like it", I told him, backing away and leaving him with my glass in his hand.

He got closer again, "Wine opponents", he whispered, with the tone of a lecture from a teacher, "are not allowed here."

I backed away again. My cheeks burned so hard, I almost felt tears in my eyes. It was pathetic.

"I'm just messin, Arianna", he replied softly.

"I know."

He studied me for a moment, cigarette and wine in hand. He was cool and nice at the same moment. It was so disarming.

"You've been great, you know?" he said. He took a look behind me. I totally forgot Keith was still there. "Mental, mate" Matty told him.

"Thanks" Keith kindly responded. "You too. Fuck, more than mental. The crowd freaked out"

"We just give the people what they love"

I rolled my eyes and he smirked at me. George appeared at his back, placing a hand on his shoulder. Matty looked so tiny compared to him. I couldn't help but smile when he turned to look at his friend and smiled at him.

"Arianna" George greeted me with a nod of his head. He had such a deep voice. Is it a fundamental precondition for British people? Like, if your voice doesn't sound like sex they kick you out of the UK?

"Hi" I smiled, a bit intimidated.

"Oh, he's 6'5 but he's a marshmallow, really" Matty told me.

"Oh, I don't doubt it" I awkwardly laughed, wrapping my hands around Keith's arm, desperately trying to cling to something familiar that could make me feel comfortable again.