Chapter 10
Matty was sprawled completely on top of her. For a brief moment Taylor was pleased, their roles were reversed, he had migrated to her side of the bed in his sleep, most likely in search of body heat with the way he had been shivering. It made her feel less guilty about the way she had been wrapped around him the night before. He might be small, smaller than her, but in sleep he was heavy and unmoving, the jut of his shoulder digging into her rib cage painfully as she tried and failed to dislodge him from her person.
“Matty,” she whispered around a mouthful of curls, jostling the offending shoulder, her breath shallow from the dead weight of him bearing down on her. “Matty, you need to move. I can't breathe, Matthew.” She hissed, becoming increasingly annoyed by his lack of response.
“Matty wake the fuck up,” she said, louder this time, the frustration coloring her tone, growing a tad hysterical as worry began to creep through her veins. He wasn’t waking up. Why wasn’t he waking up?
“Matty this isn’t funny you need to wake up, you’re crushing me,” she said, reaching to try and push him off of her, but she couldn’t move, it was like she was paralyzed, her arms locked at her sides, chained to the mattress by invisible restraints. Panic squeezed her lungs, making it even harder to breathe.
“Matty,” she gasped, choking on a sob. She was crying now. When did she start crying? “Matty, please.”
He was still, she realized, too still as he lay on top of her, her chest rising and falling with desperate aborted breath, her heart beating like a humming bird’s wings. Matty’s chest didn’t move, Matty’s chest wasn’t rising and falling against her own, his heart wasn’t racing to match hers. He was just there, a body, a husk of what once was.
“Matty!” She shouted breaking off into another sob, her body shaking with the force of it. He was cold, she realized, the only warmth in the bed her own, his eyes closed and his mouth open, but without the heat of his breath tickling her neck.
“Matty please,” she begged, “Matty you can’t do this to me, MATTY.”
“It’s your fault you know,” said a voice, and Taylor turned her head, panic gripping her chest as Karlie strode towards her like she was sauntering down the catwalk, her blonde hair falling in golden waves around her shoulders, her green eyes bright. “You’re toxic, you poison everyone you touch, you ruin them.”
“No,” shouted Taylor hysterically, “Matty wake up.”
Karlie laughed cruelly. “You killed him Taylor, you were selfish and got his life all tangled up with yours and killed him. Why do you even care though? You were just using him for your own gain.”
“No,” Said Taylor, “that’s not true.”
Karlie laughed again. “You can’t possibly tell me you love him, that you care about him, you don’t even know him. You and Tree were just using him and he didn’t even get a choice in the matter, remember?”
“That’s not—” Taylor started but Karlie didn’t get her a chance to finish.
“You ruined his life Taylor, you broke up his relationship and thrust him into the spotlight, and he didn’t even agree to it, his contract just said he had to.”
“No,” said Taylor, tears streaming down her cheeks, “that’s not true.”
“You know it is,” said Karlie, sitting down on the decorative chair by the window with a flourish. “You killed him Taylor, all because you’re an insecure, selfish, little bitch.”
Taylor sat up sharply, smashing her forehead into the underside of Matty’s jaw, causing him to roll away from her with a squawk of pain, thrust brutally into awakeness mere seconds after her.
“Fucking hell,” He gasped, clutching his face.
“Fuck,” Taylor swore herself, rubbing her forehead in pain. “Matty?” she asked, looking over at him, breathing heavily, “you’re alright.”
“You fucking nearly broke my jaw Jesus Christ,” he said, moving it back and forth experimentally, “do I look alright?”
“You’re alright!” she said, realizing as her heart rate slowed back to a normal rhythm that it had all been a dream. A nightmare.
“No thanks to you, fuck.” he said, moving his hand away from his face for a second before grabbing his jaw again “I hope that doesn’t bruise.” He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like that will be fun to explain to George.
“If it does we’ll match,” Taylor said, suddenly grateful for her bangs and the way they would be able to hide any kind of mark on her forehead. She didn’t need Jack and Lena asking questions later that morning, nor the paparazzi photos that would inevitably surface, whether Tree called them or not.
“Are you, are you alright?” he asked slowly, letting go of his face and sitting up. They weren’t going to acknowledge that he had been sprawled on top of her, deep in sleep,which had inadvertently placed him in her strike zone when she woke up panicking.
“Yeah,” she said, sitting up as well, and smoothing the blankets that covered her lap, “yeah.”
“Okay,” said Matty slowly, taking the wild look in her eye illuminated by the early morning light seeping into the room through the gap in the curtains. “If you say so,” he said, letting himself flop down onto the blankets.
Her apartment was empty save for the two of them and the cats, but when the credits to Frozen had rolled and Taylor had nudged Matty awake, there wasn’t any question or hesitation as she led him back to her room. The sheets had been changed in the guest room by her housekeeper after Selena’s departure, but she couldn’t imagine leaving Matty in the cozily decorated room, dwarfed by the oversized bed. Instead, they brushed their teeth side by side in the master bathroom, Matty nearly asleep on his feet, leaning against the counter groggily as Taylor went through her nightly skin care routine.
That night, Matty hadn’t even asked about the couch, had just settled under the blankets on what Taylor had mentally started thinking of as his side of the bed, which was silly because they didn’t have sides of the bed, they had shared a bed only once before. They weren’t together. They weren’t even sleeping together, except in the sense that they were actually sleeping. There was no Matty’s side and Taylor’s side of the bed, there was just Taylor’s bed that she was currently gracious enough to share with him.
She looked over at him, his eye lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, the loose french braid she had put in his hair the night before starting to come undone. Her dream had been right. She didn’t know him, she didn’t have any claim to him, and she was hurting him, dragging him into a level of media attention he hadn’t asked for, nor had he been prepared for.
“I can feel you staring at me,” said Matty, his eyes closed. “Whatever it is you’re thinking too hard about, stop.”
“Sorry,” said Taylor, cheeks flushed with embarrassment even though Matty couldn’t actually see her.
“Just go back to sleep.” Matty said, “It’s too early for thinking.”
Taylor squinted, looking over at the clock on her bedside table. It was nearly six thirty. “I’m going to go down to the gym,” she said the second the words left her mouth she knew she was making the right call. She needed some distance from Matty at the moment, and also knew there was absolutely no way she would be able to fall asleep even if she wanted to. Everytime she closed her eyes, she saw Matty’s unmoving form, his lips turning blue and Karlie standing over them laughing cruelly.
“You’re insane,” Matty said, his voice muffled from the way he had rolled over, shoving his face into the pillow.
“I’m not saying you have to come,” she snipped back.
“Good,” he said, “because I wouldn’t have come.”
“Could be good for you,” she said slowly, thinking of the way he had been wheezing on that very first pap walk, breath hitching as he coughed. She thought she had wanted distance but maybe an activity would be better instead. She pointedly didn’t think of him, sweat glistening on his forehead, his messy curls pulled into an even messier bun, his tee shirt riding up as he stretched, a peak of the tattoo on his hip, a hint of the one on his chest.
She wondered if she would catch him watching her back, her own hair pulled into a short ponytail, the shorter strands around her face falling free and sticking to her sweat soaked skin as she pushed herself to her limit and then some. She had a tour to prepare for, she couldn’t be spending days off, laying around eating Chinese food and watching movies, not if she wanted to be the best. The preliminary wardrobe fittings were soon, and Taylor knew she wanted her costumes tailored within an inch of their life.
Taylor had both loved and hated working out with Karlie. Karlie was all long legs, lean muscle and grace, a literal Victoria’s Secret Angel, her long blonde ponytail swishing across her back like every secret cheerleader fantasy Taylor had in high school, before she had realized that she didn’t want to be like those girls, she just wanted one.
“I smoke far too much to even consider going to the gym with you right now,” Matty said firmly. “I think I would actually die, plus,” he added dramatically, “I don’t even own gym trainers.”
“Well that can be easily fixed if that’s what’s holding you back—” Taylor started, thinking that even at six thirty in the morning how easy it would be for her to procure a pair in his size. But Matty pulled the blanket over his head and cut her off with a theatric whine.
“That is not what’s holding me back, I just don’t want to go, you have fun though.” he said, his voice muffled by the bedding and Taylor sighed, sliding out of the bed herself, she had turned he heat up in the apartment before they went to bed, but compared to being buried in her down comforter and Matty’s body heat, the air was shockingly cold, goosebumps raising along her arms, making her almost consider saying fuck it and crawling back in next to him.
“Fine, sorry for caring about your health.” Taylor said, rolling her eyes at the little tuff of dark curly hair peeking out from under the blankets.
Matty mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “I didn’t ask you too.”
“We’re meeting Jack and Lena at ten for brunch, don’t forget,” she called over her shoulder, forcing herself to cross the room and make her way into the walk-in closet in search of a sports bra, tank top and leggings. Matty grunted in acknowledgement.
Taylor brought the bundle of clothes into the bathroom and brushed her teeth before changing quickly, tossing her tee shirt and pajama pants into the hamper. She could see the sleeve of Matty’s Christmas sweater, and the tee shirt she had stolen the day before peaking out of the corner. The sweater would have to be dry cleaned, she thought absentmindedly, she should have that picked up today so he could make sure to bring it back home to the UK the next morning. She wondered if he would notice if she kept the tee shirt, she wondered why she even wanted to.
She exited the bathroom and smiled to herself at the fact that once again, Matty was already sound asleep, snoring softly, the blankets rising and falling with each breath he took. She blinked in surprise, realizing that while she was in the bathroom, Meredith had jumped up onto the bed and settled herself into the crook of his bent knee. She looked up at Taylor as if challenging her to say something before resting her head back down on the blankets. Taylor swallowed hard, they said animals were good judges of character, and neither Olivia or Meredith had ever wanted anything to do with Karlie, and here Meredith, the least cuddly cat known to mankind, was willingly putting herself into that position with Matty. Good she thought, he was sleeping and he wasn’t alone. He always looked exhausted. She didn’t let herself think about the fact that the word she really meant was haunted.
*
“Sorry we’re late,” said Taylor, hanging her coat on the back of the chair before sliding into the free seat across from Lena. For a brief moment Matty looked like he wasn’t going to take his coat off, he looked like he was going to bolt out of the restaurant, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that every single person in the eatery was staring at them.
“Someone insisted we stop for a cigarette.” Taylor continued, flashing Matty a smile. He seemed to think better of it, remembering the crowd of people that had stopped and stared at them, lining the sidewalk when they got out of Taylor’s blacked out SUV, Greg was sitting a table away, watching them carefully, ready to intervene the second someone got too close. Taylor wondered if he would also catch a wayward Matty if he tried to flee and swallowed a giggle at the thought of the mental image, then instantly felt guilty, Matty wasn’t her prisoner even if he was seemingly feeling like one. Maybe she was the one that felt like a prisoner, and was projecting.
“Listen,” said Matty, his mask falling into place as he flashed Lena and Jack a self-deprecating smile. He too took his coat off and hung it on the back of his chair, pulling the sleeves of the black sweater he wore over his hands. “Someone won’t let me smoke inside and if I don’t get my nicotine fix I might very well die.” The sweater he was wearing was Taylor’s, a delicate cashmere knit that he had picked up off the end of the bed when she had tossed it there in frustration, not sure what she wanted to wear herself.
“This is really soft,” he commented, running his fingers over the material.
“Try it on then!” she had snapped, irritation blooming in her chest at how fat she looked in everything she tried on. She hated that it looked so much better on him, she bit her lip, standing in front of him in a bra and green skinny jeans. He took off the black button down he was wearing, one she had recognized from Tumblr as part of his stage wardrobe, she pulled her eyes away from the tattoo on his body hip, pointedly not looking at the one on his skinny chest, as he yanked the sweater over his head, shaking out his ruffled curls after.
“Do you want that top?” she asked, turning back to her closet, a navy blue turtleneck in her hands, “because it’s yours now.”
She thought she was going to feel better after going to the gym, but instead she just felt lightheaded and worn out. She needed to do better, she thought, she needed to be stronger.
“Relatable,” said Lena, with a smirk, her vape sitting on the table next to a glass of water. “I’m Lena by the way,” she said, reaching across the table to shake Matty’s hand. “I know we met at Taylor’s party but we were all pretty drunk.”
Taylor flushed, knowing that Lena was more so referencing Matty and herself and how sloppy they had gotten.
“It’s lovely to meet you sober,” said Matty, giving her another a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Though, I was promised this was a boozy brunch so I doubt we’ll be sober for long.”
Lena giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth as if she was sharing a secret. “Taylor,” she said playfully, “I like him, he’s fun.”
“I like him too,” Taylor said, reaching over to give Matty’s hand a squeeze under the table, his palm clammy.
“I’m Jack,” said Jack, giving Matty a little wave, never one to shake a person’s hand, “and I want to produce your band’s next album.”
Matty blinked, clearly having not expected Jack to be so forward in the announcement of his intentions. Taylor wondered if Matty even remembered Jack saying he wanted to work together at her party.
“Em, what?” he said, clearly caught off guard.
“The album you have out now, The 1975, that’s self produced right?” Jack asked, and Taylor swallowed her smile, Jack already knew that, clearly having done his research before they met for brunch.
“Em, yeah,” said Matty, tugging on his curls, a nervous habit Taylor was starting to notice. “George and I produced it, we had some help from Mike Crossey, who’s absolutely brilliant on a few of the tracks and with some of the mixing, but yes, it was primarily George and I.”
Jack nodded, “and you also wrote the entire thing,” he said, his words clearly a statement and not a question, and Matty laughed nervously.
“Yeah,” he said, he opened his mouth as if he was going to say more, but paused as their waitress, college age and clearly starstruck, her eyes wide, came over, clutching her notepad as if it was the only thing grounding her in the moment.
“Hi,” she said, her voice cracking nervously, “I’m Sadie and I’ll be your server today,” she swallowed hard, “can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Can we do this mimosa situation?” said Taylor, pointing at the menu, there was the option of getting a bottle of champagne and a pitcher of juice for the table, “at least to start?” She wouldn’t be drinking, she didn’t need the calories, but she had promised Matty the best mimosas in the city.
“Yes of course,” Sadie said.
“Thank you so much,” said Taylor and Sadie looked like she was going to pass out on the spot.
“Anything else I can get you right off the bat?” she asked, her voice squeaking.
“Can I get a coffee?” Matty asked, Taylor had given him the option of stopping at Starbucks, or smoking in the alleyway outside of her apartment before they met Lena and Jack and he had chosen the alleyway cigarette. Neither one of them had been able to figure out the coffee maker in her kitchen, the one her mom had bought last time she had visited.
“Yes of course,” she said, “cream and sugar on the side alright?”
“That would be brilliant,” he said, flashing her a crooked smile, somehow managing to sound even more British, his accent making even Taylor’s heart swoop and she had been listening to it whine for the last three days.
“Yes of course,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”
Taylor wondered if she had been given their table as a reward or a punishment.
“Anyway,” said Jack, returning to the conversation that had been started before they were interrupted, “your album is incredible, and I was so happy to see it was up for Grammy consideration, and I would love to work with you guys on your next one.”
“That would be brilliant,” said Matty, tugging on his curls again.
Lena was saying something about her newest book but Taylor was only half listening, watching Matty and Jack interact was interesting. Jack had always been nice to Karlie, they had always gotten along even if Jack hadn’t realized how close their so-called friendship really was, but there was something different about the way he spoke to Matty. His words measured, like he actually cared about making a good impression, like he actually cared if Matty liked him. Taylor couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he was a man or because he was a musician or maybe a third thing, the fact that Karlie was Karlie having been the issue the entire time.
“I would need to talk it over with the guys though,” Matty continued, “it’s always been just us, and Mike,” he paused, “But I’m sure they would be excited about the opportunity.”
Jack smiled, his eyes lighting up. “Amazing,” he said, nodding. “You leave tomorrow morning right?” he asked and Matty nodded. “When will you be back in the states?”
Matty looked over at Taylor, “Ah, after Christmas,” he said, “I’ll be in town for New Years, then however long this one will have me for.” He gestured at Taylor as he spoke. They hadn’t planned anything past the second, but Taylor was sure Tree and Jamie were scheming behind the scenes. She was performing at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in London, in February, she was sure even if she didn’t see him between New Year’s and then, Matty’s attendance would be mandated.
Jack snorted, “don’t worry, I can’t see you overstaying your welcome.”
“I can only hope,” said Matty and maybe he was a better actor than Taylor gave him credit for because he did actually seem like he wanted to be there, wanted to be there with her when Taylor knew for a fact that he had thrown an absolute bitch fit about having to come back to the United States so soon, especially for New Year’s Eve.
“See if the guys can come over with you,” said Jack, “at least for a bit, I’d love to all get into the studio together, see what we can come up with.”
“I’d like that,” said Matty, “I’d like that a lot.”
Anything else he had to say on the subject was paused when Sadie appeared with his coffee and their mimosas, distributing flutes of orange juice and champagne to the group, leaving the bottle and the pitcher of juice, both on ice, off to the side.
“Thanks love,” said Matty, accepting the coffee. He quickly added milk and sugar, and took a sip, both hands wrapped around the mug, clinging to it as if someone was going to try and steal it away.
“I want to get back into the studio as well,” Taylor said quietly and Jack looked up, startled.
“Really?” he asked and Taylor flushed, 1989 might have only been out for a month and a half but she had never stopped writing.
“Yeah,” she said, “I have some stuff I want to show you.”
Jack grinned, “new material about being newly in love?” he teased, and Taylor picked up her mimosa taking a minuscule sip purely so that she would have something to do with her hands.
“Something like that,” she said, thinking of the notebook full of heartbreak, lyrics scrawled across the page in sadness, anger and betrayal after Karlie gave up on her, only wanting her when she was easy to love.
“I’ll book us some time at Electric Lady, are you around tomorrow?” Jack asked.
“I’ll make myself around,” Taylor said, setting her champagne flute down and subtly switching it with Matty’s empty one. He raised an eyebrow at her, but thankfully Jack and Lena didn’t notice.
“You trying to get me drunk Miss. Swift?” he asked teasingly, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. Taylor heard a camera shutter and realized someone, most likely another patron of the restaurant, was taking their picture. Matty was more clever than she gave him credit for.
“I don’t think you need my help with that,” she said and he chuckled, pulling away from her to finish her drink as well, his throat bubbling as he swallowed.
She couldn’t help the feeling of dread settling in her stomach, making her feel as if she was doing something else wrong, making her feel like she was enabling him in some way. She shook her head, turning her attention back to Lena. Matty was twenty five years old, a grown adult, he could make his own choices. He might have been forced into a pretend relationship with her, but he was fine. He poured himself another drink, and after that, Taylor stopped counting.