Chapter Text
Selling merchandise for a band was always seen by those who didn’t do it as this glorious job. Everyone always seemed to think that you must know the band, that you get all the free shit you want, you can give the discounts you want, that you control what the band sells, that you get to watch the show and then go home. But that’s not what it was at all. Merch was a lot of waking up early, receiving boxes, unpacking boxes, counting shirts, folding shirts, selling shirts, unfolding shirts, re-counting shirts, packing up shirts into boxes, then shipping boxes away and ending your day long after the last guest had left the venue. Rarely did you get to watch the show, sometimes you couldn’t even hear it depending on where the merch stand was located. You definitely didn’t know the band, typically their manager reaches out to the brand label who will make or receive their merch and then they reach out to you. You receive what you’re given, sell it, send back what you don’t sell. Move on. The most you ever see of the band is what you can see from the back of the crowd over everyone else’s heads. And most certainly you don’t get free stuff. Everything is accounted for against the money taken in for the night, and losses are recorded. All of these things came to the forefront whenever a fan gave you a tough time for not stocking hoodies, or for not having some obscure item they wanted, or for complaining that the prices were too high and asking you to lower them, not understanding that you weren’t in control of any of that. Or better yet, asking you to ask the band something – because that was definitely feasible when they had no idea who you were.
But, despite all this; it was a fun job. It meant chatting to people all night who were like minded and enjoyed music, especially if you were lucky and swung it so you could work merch for a band you actually enjoyed listening to and got to talk to other fans. The counting was, at the very least, simple and sometimes therapeutic. The long hours typically meant you always had time to get everything done, and they usually paid well - cash in hand at the end of a shift wasn’t something you got in many industries. Sometimes you could see the show from merch and enjoy it a bit while the crowd was occupied. Sometimes you were allowed to take a tour shirt home, if you were lucky. Sometimes, if you were really lucky, the band came to the merch van to see how things were selling, or to make sure you got everything. It was always pretty cool whenever that happened. But it was exceedingly rare.
At the end of the day though, a job was a job and money was money. And money was exactly why Y/N had accepted the job selling merch with her brother for The 1975. But by the time the gig had rolled around, two months after his initial job offer to her, pleasure was the reason she was going. She had spent the last couple of months listening to them and learning a bit about the band. They were definitely worth listening to despite her original thoughts on their music, and all of a sudden she found that she regretted working the concert as she would’ve preferred to have been going to the concert. But the cash was needed. So, she would have to settle for this and maybe being able to hear a bit of the show from merch. Maybe she could sneak away during her break to catch a few songs. If she could get away from the merch van close to the end of their set, then she could catch The Sound and she’d be happy enough with that. As she counted the shirts, she put on some music in the background to get truly into the zone and tried to formulate a plan about how she could catch a few of her favourite songs. Maybe it could work… Her thoughts were eventually interrupted by her brother asking her if she’d seen the yellow ink.
“The what?”
“The yellow ink for the shirt pressing thing?” They had been given a strange contraption when they had come into the venue: A massive machine that they were told would be used to print new designs over old 1975 t-shirts for free if any fans brought them up. They were fairly sure they had worked out how to use it, but now they couldn’t find any ink to test it with. “I’ll go look for some. Maybe they have it boxed with the other stuff out the back. Be back soon!” He called as he walked out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.
She went back to counting and formulating plans. Fifteen minutes had passed with her being in the counting zone before she heard the door open again. “Hey, did you find the-” She spun around, only to come face to face with someone who wasn’t her brother as she had been expecting. He stood taller than her brother and had a messy mop of dark curls sitting on top of his head. He took off the sunglasses he was wearing and cleared his throat before speaking.
“Hi, erm, sorry for the intrusion.” He started as he smiled sheepishly. The British accent was thick in his tone, and she was already fairly certain she knew who this man was without an introduction. But it was probably better for her own nerves if she didn’t confirm or deny that.
“No, no, it’s cool. How can I help?” She stopped counting the pile that she was in the middle of and set it aside, turning to face him properly now.
“I just wanted to come by and make sure that you knew what to do with the reprinted merch.” He continued as he gestured to the strange machine that they had been given. He felt awkward standing in here, like he shouldn’t touch anything. As much as this was his show, his band, his merch, he felt like he was intruding in a space that wasn’t his, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. It had been a long time since he’d sold any merch.
“Oh! Well, kind of.” She made her way over to the machine. “We were just looking for the ink for it, but I think we’ve worked out how to use it.” She demonstrated how they had been trialling the machine and he nodded in response. It felt good to know that they weren’t total idiots and had managed to work it out.
“It’s not too hard, you just have to make sure the shirt in it is really pulled tight so the pattern is right.” He grabbed a shirt from her pile that she had been in the middle of counting to demonstrate. She winced slightly as he ruined what would’ve been a perfect pile of ten, but let him take it. He loaded it into the machine and showed her how to get it to sit properly. “And did all of the boxes arrive? I tried to keep my eye on them when they came over with me on the plane but I lost track a few times because I didn’t have to grab them myself. We lost one at the last stop.” He ran a hand through his messy curls, trying to judge what was in the room and see if it looked correct.
“I think everything is here. It was 26 in total I believe that should’ve come with you and 21 already here.” He nodded. That sounded roughly right.
As he took in his surroundings, he noticed that she was also wearing one of their shirts. That was all the invitation he needed to snap out of the awkward feeling that had been looming over him and jump into his usual personality. “And I see you’re already modelling some for us.” He grinned with an eyebrow raised.
She glanced down at the tour shirt she was wearing. “Ah, standard policy to wear the shirt that there’s the most stock of to show it off.” She replied. “But I’m hoping I can start modelling the hoodie as soon as the sun sets.” She laughed. “I might even grab one. They look very comfy.”
“You should get the shirt you’ve got on.” He replied instantly. She looked at him with a slight hint of curiosity in her eyes. He paused for a beat, contemplating if he should continue his thought out loud. But he was never a man to censor his words. “It looks good on you.” His dark brown eyes held a certain sparkle in them when he said it, like he was waiting to see how she responded. She opened her mouth to reply, but her brain was taking a good moment to catch up to his words. Was that flirting? Or an offhand compliment? A mumbled ‘thanks’ was all that ended up coming out of her mouth before turning back to her counting to hide the red that was dusting her cheeks.
The conversation stilled between them, with the background noise of her phone quietly playing on the far side of the van being the only thing to fill the room. She had assumed that he had gotten all the info he needed and was on his way out. Should she ask for an autograph or something before he leaves? That might be weird. She doesn’t even know for sure that it’s him. He probably had more important stuff to attend to, anyway. And it looked like he might have been about to turn and leave, until a familiar song started playing on her phone. The introduction to Tootime floated through the air as she stared down at her pile of shirts and mentally cursed herself for putting a playlist on shuffle that had 1975 songs in it. There were so many other songs in this playlist. Why did her phone have to betray her like this? “Nice music choice, by the way.” He smirked. “That band is pretty overrated, though. I hear the singer is a bit of a twat.” He chuckled at his own joke, but she was still so caught off guard that she was unsure whether to laugh, or if that would be rude. However, it definitely confirmed that he was who she suspected. Matthew Healy was currently giving her shit for listening to his music at his show. God fucking dammit.
“Oh, I, uh…” She blushed furiously as she stared down at her phone. It would be too awkward to change the song now, the damage was already done. He laughed lightly.
“It’s fine. It’s nice to see people behind the scenes enjoying the music. Meet the fans and all that jazz.” He looked entirely too amused by her embarrassment, rocking onto the balls of his feet as he gauged her reaction.
“Well… I wasn’t a fan until I got the job if I’m honest. Only started listening to you guys about two months ago. I was a bit late to the boat on that one.” She shrugged, finally turning away from the offending device to look at him.
He let out a fake gasp and clutched at his heart. “I am deeply hurt by this information.” That managed to get a chuckle out of her.
“Truthfully, I had it on because I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to get away to see any of the show. We’re so far away from the stage here. I was hoping to sneak away to catch The Sound but I’d have to sprint back to merch as soon as it ends if you play it last.” She explained.
“Well…” He scratched at the back of his neck, mulling over the idea in his head briefly before voicing it. “Would you want to come and listen to it now?”
“What? Like on my phone?” She frowned in confusion.
“No, we can play it for you live. Now.” He elaborated.
“How?”
“We’re about to start soundchecking in a few minutes, I’ll just get the guys to play that instead of something else.” He had already dragged his friends into this mess of trying to impress a girl. It took him all of five minutes. He was certain they wouldn’t be pleased but they could suck it up.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you like that. You need to actually test shit and make sure it’s all working.” She said as she shook her head.
“We can do all that playing any song. It doesn’t matter what ones we play.” He shrugged. “Assuming you’re allowed to leave here of course?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
“I, um…” What on earth was happening? This was not an offer to turn down, but it felt strange to accept it all the same. “Yeah, I can, I guess. I just need to lock the door so that nobody bursts in and steals armfuls of your shirts.” He flashed a triumphant grin.
“Let’s get going, then. I’d better not keep my boys waiting for too long or they’ll think I’ve abandoned them for some cute girl or something.” He watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye as he made the comment, seeing the blush return to her cheeks. He hadn’t planned to have a fun time messing with anyone today, but he certainly wasn’t complaining that the opportunity landed itself right in his lap.
She locked the merch door before they started walking down the corridors towards the stage. A pit of nerves had started to form in her stomach, but before she could start to internally freak out too much his voice snapped her out of it. “Oh! I have totally forgotten to introduce myself. Matty.” He said, holding his hand out for her to shake. As she took it, he pulled her slightly closer towards him. “But I feel like you might’ve already known that.” He added with a wink.
“I had a feeling.” She nodded, trying her best to hold his gaze and not chicken out as he continued to hold onto her hand. Was he just a forward sorta guy or was he actively flirting? Because it was pretty unmistakable at this point.
“And your name, love?” He raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue.
“Y/N/N.” She answered as he finally let go of her hand. She hated that it had an odd tingling feeling in it. She definitely didn’t need to fangirl over an attractive guy who was being incredibly nice right now. That would certainly not help anyone. So, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. He nodded thoughtfully to himself at her answer, considering what that would be short for.
“Not Y/N?” He questioned.
“Not Matthew?” She countered, giving him a pointed look. He grimaced at the use of his full name. It reminded him too much of getting told off by his parents, teachers, George.
“Point taken.” He laughed.
They rounded the corner to the arena floor and began walking across the expansive space. It seemed a lot smaller when thousands of people were crammed into it. He hopped over the barrier when they reached it, taking his place up on stage with his friends. They didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the fact that he had some random girl in tow with him as he approached them. He came across very differently on stage as he gathered his equipment than what he had in the merch van. An entirely different aura about him. Less awkwardness, a lot more confident of himself and his movements. He was handing out directions instead of being afraid to move for fear of messing something up. He wore the demeanour well. He made sure his mic stand was at the correct height before tapping it a couple of times.
“All right boys, we’re gonna play The Sound for my lovely friend down there.” He said, waving his hand in her general direction as he shot a grin her way. She smiled up at him, trying to stifle a laugh. This entire situation seemed surreal, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or freak out or just, y’know, die on the spot. Certainly a heart attack felt imminent. But currently, her mentality was to just roll with it and internalise any and all feelings. They could be dealt with at a later date when he wasn’t around to cloud her judgement. His bandmates nodded as they started tuning instruments accordingly. They seemed unphased by his antics, it was obvious that they dealt with him like this on a regular basis.
After a few brief minutes, they had all confirmed that they were ready to go. Matty gestured for her to hop over the barrier. She looked back at him in confusion. “C’mere.” He said as he knelt down on the edge of the stage, holding his hand out to her. His long curls started to fall into his eyes a bit as he leant forward.
“Why?” She frowned up at him from the floor.
“You like this song, right?” He questioned.
“Well, yeah, obviously.” She scoffed. “I wouldn’t have followed some strange dude through dodgy hallways if I didn’t.”
He chuckled at that. “Then come up on stage and dance with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s fun! Fuck me, it’s not that complicated.” He laughed loudly. She took his hand with a roll of her eyes and a few grumbled curses as he helped pull her up onto the stage, positioning her next to his spot at the centre. After a shared nod amongst the band, the familiar introduction started pouring through the speakers around them.
Matty stood there eagerly at his microphone, his eyes shut and his foot tapping to the soft beat to count himself in. He cleared his throat as his first line came in, wrapping his hands tightly around the mic before starting to sing. His voice sounded far better in person than she would’ve expected, especially at such a close distance to not even need the speakers to hear it properly. The drums, the instrumentals, everything reverberated through her. She took in the scene around her, glancing around at the other band members, to the empty venue, to Matty in front of her. To say it was an amazing experience was an understatement. Surreal probably would’ve been a better adjective. As he broke into the second line he cracked one eye open, catching her staring at him in awe. There was absolutely no point in trying to hide it, she enjoyed a concert at the best of times let alone when one was being held just for her. A shit eating grin split across his face. As he tore into the first verse he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, forcing her to bop along with him as he sang.
“She said I’ve got a problem with your shoes,” He sung, glancing pointedly down at her shoes, forcing her to look down as well, “And your tunes,” at that he shoved his finger in her ear closest to his head. “But I might move in,” She quickly slapped his hand away, making him laugh his way through his next few lines. “You’re so conceited I, said I love you, what does it matter if I lie to you?” He used his arm around her shoulder to spin her out away from him, forcing her to enjoy the energy he was radiating. He caught her hand quickly and pulled her back to him. Her head was spinning enough from the situation as whole, let alone when he did things like that.
“You’ve done this before.” She shouted at him over the music.
“Well I know when you’re around ‘cause I know the sound, I know the sound of your heart.” He sung with a wink, poking her quickly in the chest at the word ‘heart’ from emphasis. “Don’t overthink it, just enjoy it.” He said into her ear quickly before the second verse started.
Normally, she was fairly reserved, and certainly unlikely to let loose in front of a group of strangers. But the song, the smile, that look, they were all pretty damn hard to resist. So, she caved and just started properly bopping along with him while he sung through the second verse. When she caught sight of the genuine smile on his face at her having a good time, it quickly became contagious.
“Oh and you say, I’m such a cliché,” He held his hand to his chest dramatically as he sung into his microphone. “I can’t see the difference in it either way.” As he pulled his hand away from his chest, he reached out and grabbed a hold of her hand closest to him, pulling her back over into his personal space to be facing him. “And we, left things to protect my mental health.” Why was he staring at her like that? Oh, no. Suddenly she remembered the line coming next and became acutely aware as to why he had pulled her close again. Fuck. “But you call me when you’re bored and you’re playing with yourself.” He dragged his hand down his chest to his crotch with a devious smirk on his lips, making sure that she was close enough that the back of his hand made contact with her as well. As he headed into the pre-chorus he turned back to the microphone, letting her sort her head out for a moment. She tried her best to recover from how ridiculously forward that was. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that he’d just done that? Her thoughts reeled. She figured it would be best to just pretend that he hadn’t done that. That was a thought to shove to the back of her mind until much later. As the music died down leading into the bridge, he quickly pulled her away from the mic into the centre of the stage. He held onto both of her hands tightly as the music swelled back up, eventually jumping around and trying to convince her to properly dance with him as soon as the guitar solo started.
“Dance with me!” He shouted, dancing hard enough that his audio receiver had fallen out of his ear. “Don’t make me look like a dickhead by myself.” He added with a laugh. She had to laugh back at that and started jumping along with him. He seemed to be an infectious good time in and of himself. Either that or he was just good at getting people to give him his way. Probably a bit of both. Eventually she realised that the backing vocals had started again, but he was still over here, nowhere near his mic.
“Aren’t you meant to be singing?” She asked loudly, gesturing to the empty mic. “Or, you know, checking the levels of audio stuff?”
“I can do that on the next song.” He answered, still singing along to the song out of habit anyway. She shook her head in disbelief. He must be impossible to work with. He let out a few huffs of breath as the song ended before grinning at her. “That was fun. What other songs do you like?”
“No, I can’t- I really should…” She quickly looked around the stage looking for anyone who seemed annoyed by her still being here. Nobody seemed phased by it. The interaction that they had in the merch van sprung back into Matty’s mind.
“Tootime?” He suggested with an eyebrow raised.
She let out a reluctant groan. “I probably should be getting back…”
“Tootime.” His suggestion was less of a question now.
“You have things to do… I have things to do…” Her argument was pretty weak and he knew it. And the smile she was trying to hide was a dead giveaway that she wanted to hear it.
“TOOTIME!” He shouted at the band behind him, they gave small nods of acknowledgement in response that they’d heard him. He ran back over to his mic, pulling it out of the stand and joining her back in the centre of the stage. “You have to do the hand motions with me.” He said as he started bopping around and doing the ‘rewind’ signal. “And dance.” He added with a pointed look.
“Sure. At this point, why not? I feel like you wouldn’t let me get away with anything less.” She sighed in feigned annoyance.
“Too right I wouldn’t. You know me so well already.” He said with a grin so broad it made the side of his eyes crinkle.
Just like when The Sound had started, he shut his eyes and calmed down his breathing as the intro began, both hands wrapped tightly around the mic. She could see his head bopping along to the beat to keep his timing right. This song was no less impressive than the previous one. A couple of the effects and lights had started to be turned on for this one, clearly a few of the crew taking their opportunity to test everything. It truly was a spectacle to behold that she normally didn’t see from this angle. She danced along a bit with the lyrics, more so watching around the stage than watching Matty. But she did happen to catch it as his eyes lit up as soon as he sung: “I only called her one time.” in the first round of the chorus, suddenly starting to fish through his pocket for something as he continued singing.
“Do I really have to do the numbers if you’re not even looking?” She asked, her question falling on deaf ears.
“You-” He jabbed her arm, holding his phone out to her. “text that boy-” he jabbed at his chest with a smile. “sometimes.” She stared down at his phone blankly before seeing it was on a new contact screen.
“Are you asking for my number?” She shouted at him above the music. He nodded with a grin as he continued to sing. “With song lyrics?? Who the hell are you..?” She asked in disbelief as she took the phone out of his hand. He pulled the mic away from his mouth so that he could speak.
“Sorry, I thought I had already done that bit. Matty.” He answered with that stupid grin still plastered on his face as he held his hand out for a handshake. She pushed it away with a laugh.
He finished the song without a hitch, dancing like an idiot and forcing her to do the same throughout the rest of it. As much as she would’ve hated to admit it, she couldn’t deny that it was fun. The instant the song ended, Matty had launched into some animated story from when they had been touring in the UK. They had been on a wild night at a pub somewhere when they heard Tootime while they were out. Halfway through said story, she heard the drummer at the back of the stage trying and failing to get his attention. She wasn’t sure if Matty wasn’t hearing him or if he was just straight up ignoring him.
“Matty.” The drummer called, trying again to get his friend’s attention.
Matty however was still completely unphased and continued along with his story. “and anyway that’s when-”
“I think-” She started, gesturing to the back of the stage. But he kept on going.
“we got back to the bar and found out that-”
“MATTHEW.” He shouted eventually from behind his kit, loud enough that he finally interrupted him.
“WHAT, GEORGE?” Matty shouted back angrily as he spun on his heel to look at his friend.
“STOP FLIRTING FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS AND PLUG YOUR DAMN EARPIECE BACK IN. THE SOUND GUYS ARE TRYING TO REACH YOU.” The lead singer reluctantly did as he was told and slipped the device back into his ear with a roll of his eyes.
“That’s probably my cue.” She mumbled with a laugh in an attempt to break the sudden awkward feeling she had, moving towards the edge of the stage. Before she could jump down, Matty grabbed her arm.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He was clearly listening to what was being said in his ear, eyes focused on the ground as he nodded slightly. She waited a moment for him to tune back into the rest of the world before speaking.
“I should be getting back to mer-” He held up his finger to silence her as he was listening.
“Okay, got it.” He finally confirmed, before looking back at her. “You cannot leave without this.” He raced off to the side of the stage and came back a moment later with a lanyard. He handed it to her, and she took a moment to examine it.
“An all access pass? I really can’t take this.” She said, trying to hand it back to him. He just pushed it back into her grip.
“Only temporarily, I’ll need it back later. But you’ll need it for a good view during the show.” He said, nodding towards the side of the stage.
She felt her jaw drop slightly as she stared at him wide-eyed. “I really can’t do that. People need to have access to the side of the stage for… crew… things. I can’t just rock up unannounced.”
“Why not? You have a triple A pass.” He shrugged.
“I-”
“Just take it. Use it or don’t, I’ll grab it later.” He was clearly done arguing about it, she could see that much, and he had already raced to the back of the stage to say something to George. So, she just nodded and slipped it into her pocket as she finally started heading back to the merch van. Halfway across the arena floor, she realised that she actually had no idea where she was going. Her brain had been too distracted about the company she was with to focus on the turns they were taking. She paused for a moment, trying to remember what way they had come from. “Left.” She heard Matty call through the mic. She flashed a thumbs up over her shoulder, hearing him laugh as she left the arena floor.
Thankfully once she had a general idea of her direction, the merch van wasn’t hard to find. She came back to find the door open a crack and was worried for a brief moment before she saw her brother inside. “Hey, you’re alive! Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.” He asked, flashing her a worried look. She stepped into the van, shutting the door behind her and pausing for a moment to try and find a way to best explain what the last half an hour had consisted of.
“I… Uh… actually?” She rubbed at the back of her neck anxiously, “On the stage.”
He frowned in confusion, “What?”
“I think I befriended the lead singer of the headliner?” She wished she was able to sound surer of herself about that, but honestly nothing that had just happened made any sense yet.
“How?” He asked back with a loud laugh.
“I… have no idea.”
The rest of the setup for merch was simple. The stock was counted in, the displays set up, sizes were laid out, and the ink for the reprinting machine had finally been found and tested. She decided to forget for the moment that anything had happened with Matty, as it was far easier than having to deal with it while needing to work at the same time. It worried her that if she tried to process it now, her brain may very well implode. Doors opened and fans rushed in like it was a life or death matter to purchase a t-shirt. Once she had the steady stream of customers to deal with it was much easier to get back in the groove. It wasn’t until the line of people finally started dying down that she actually checked the time and saw that The 1975 had started playing over half an hour ago. She also had numerous texts from an unknown number that she assumed to be Matty.
“Oh, shit.” She muttered under her breath, scrolling quickly through the messages.
6:05pm How’s our stuff selling?
7:37pm Have you reprinted many shirts?
8:50pm We go on in 10.
9:13pm You’ve already missed tootime
9:29pm Are you gonna use that pass or what?
“What?” Her brother asked casually from across the van.
“Can I take my break now?” She asked quickly. He nodded in response. “I might be a little bit.”
He shrugged, “Go for your life, just be back at the end of the show to deal with the final rush.”
“Thanks!” She shouted, already halfway out the door.
* * *
It was getting late into the show and Matty was starting to get worried that she wasn’t going to turn up. He had hoped that she would be there before he went on stage. Was it cocky of him to have expected that? Probably. But Tootime was pretty early on in their set and he figured she would’ve at least showed for that. But she hadn’t. And she hadn’t for any of the other songs either. They didn’t have that long now until the band had to break for the encore, and then the encore itself was only four songs. He wasn’t overly sure why he was so torn up about it. He knew that she had a job to do, and that merch was still pretty busy right until they went on stage, but that was over an hour ago now. He found himself standing in front of the drumkit during a short interlude between songs, staring at the bass drum with a blank expression.
“Matty.” George called out to him.
“Mm?” He glanced up at his friend.
“Stop freaking out.” He said as he pointed one of his drumsticks in his direction.
“I’m not.” He shrugged.
“You are. Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.” He said as the ambience started changing to the introduction of their next song.
“Sure thing, mum.” He said with a roll of his eyes, taking a swig of his glass of wine and heading back towards his mic.
As they were about halfway through their final song before the encore, he was beginning to accept that maybe she just wasn’t going to use the pass. Maybe she had gotten caught up working, or got stuck in the line waiting for food, or maybe she just didn’t want to. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. As he was busy wallowing in self-pity, he had to do a double take when he saw her standing side stage, leaning against one of the support beams with an amused expression. He flashed her a quick corny look, and she waved back at him. Normally he stayed on stage during their fourth rendition of The 1975 to lead by example that everyone else should listen to it as well, but when the song finally finished he practically ran off stage in excitement.
“Fuckin’ hell, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come!” He shouted over the crowd as he grabbed her arm, pulling her further into the backstage area.
“I was busy. Tell your fans to make up their minds on what size they want quicker and I would’ve been here sooner.” She explained as the rest of the band soon filled in the space around them.
He started rifling around in his pockets, eventually pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep drag of it before pointing it at her. “I was worried that I’d given you that pass for nothing. You’ve already missed most of the show, y’know.” He was trying his best to sound serious but found it hard to keep the smile out of his voice. Performing and being on stage already gave him enough adrenaline to have to deal with.
“Aw, you were worried?” She quipped back with an eyebrow raised.
“Only on your behalf that you would’ve missed out on this.” He said with a suggestive look as he gestured towards himself in his stage clothes. She had to admit, he looked pretty damn good in the suit that he was wearing. But she’d sooner die than give him the satisfaction of hearing her say that.
“I’m only staying for one song.” She said, deciding to skip over what he had said.
“Whatever you say, love.” He said with a wink.
“One song.” She repeated, giving him a stern look.
“Sure.” He nodded.
Of course, she stayed for four. Or three and a half technically as she wanted to be back at the merch van before all of the concert goers started to try and leave at once. The energy and enthusiasm Matty had held during soundcheck was nothing compared to what he had while performing. He clearly enjoyed being up on stage, and he seemed to get as much energy from his fans as what they got from him. She was beginning to think that the awkward guy who stepped into the merch van earlier that day was, in fact, a different person than the one she was watching now. The sheer level of confidence that he maintained on stage was astounding, he was hard not to watch. And certainly he made sure to make her aware that he knew all eyes were on him. The amount of looks he flashed her way whenever he caught her staring was teetering on ridiculous. Eventually, she knew the show was coming to a close, and that meant that she had to get back to what she was meant to be here to do. She found it hard to leave during her favourite song, especially when she caught sight of the puppy dog eyes Matty was giving her as he saw her leaving, but if she had to fight the crowds on her way back she wouldn’t make it in time for the last rush.
Said rush passed by quite quickly, which was good for them as they had sold out of a lot of items and wanted to start packing everything away sooner rather than later. Her brother had offered for her to go home once the van had shut, but she figured she would stay back and help pack up. Also, she still had to return the lanyard. Which meant that she’d have to see Matty again at some point. Not that seeing him was her entire reason for staying back. That would’ve been absurd. About halfway through boxing up the remaining merch, her brother had started taking the boxes outside to load into the truck and take back tomorrow. She was halfway through loading the last shirts into a box when she suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her. If she hadn’t vaguely recognised the suit, she certainly recognised the laugh as Matty picked her up in a tight hug. The longer he held her, the more damp her clothes were starting to feel and the more she could smell the salty tang of stage sweat radiating from him. “Ugh… How can you possibly be so sweaty?” She asked, struggling to try and get out of his grip.
“I can get sweatier.” He leaned in close to her ear, adding the second part under his breath, “Wanna find out how?”
“Oh my god, let me go.”
He did as requested with a loud laugh and set her back down on the ground. She turned to face him, seeing that his hair was practically dripping from the amount of sweat in it, and his shirt under his jacket was soaked. But he definitely had some sort of post-concert-glow about him, it very much suited him. A cheesy grin was stuck on his face as he spoke, “You enjoyed the show?” He asked.
“Yeah, it was really good. The effects were quite impressive, and the band is really good live.” She nodded as she finished putting the shirts in the box and moved across the van to where their gear was stashed.
“And?” He prompted.
“And what?” She asked, searching for something in her backpack.
“And what about that fit as hell frontman?” He asked casually.
She let out a deep sigh as she walked back over to him. “I didn’t realise how right you were when you told me earlier that the lead singer of that band was a twat.” She chuckled. Before he had a chance to say something witty back, and before she forgot and got too caught up in the hurricane that was Matty Healy, she handed him back the all access pass.
“Ah, thank you. I need that.” He said as he slipped it into his pocket. “You’ve still got the shirt.” He said with a triumphant smile as he gestured at the tour shirt she was still wearing.
“Don’t get too excited, it’s only because we sold out of hoodies.” She replied.
They were suddenly interrupted by her brother shouting her name down the corridor. “If you’re finally ready to go just put those last few bits on the trolley and meet me at the truck.”
“Can do!” She called back, starting to get everything organised.
“Finally ready to go?” Matty asked as he watched her moving around the van.
“Yeah, we can only start packing up once all the guests leave so it takes a while.” She said with a shrug.
“Finally?” He asked again with as much emphasis on the word as he could muster, the curiosity practically dripping in his tone.
“Oh.” She understood what he was getting at now. “I was actually allowed to leave a while ago.”
“And you didn’t?” He questioned.
“No, we um…” She cleared her throat before continuing. “I said I’d stay back and help pack up.” She answered quietly, expecting him to instantly turn the comment against her.
“That’s very noble of you.” He nodded, looking over the few boxes that were yet to be taken out to the truck. Not the reaction she was expecting.
She continued taping boxes shut and loading things onto the trolley. It was a few minutes before Matty finally spoke again. “Soooo, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” He asked nonchalantly as he rifled through a box that she had just packed and was waiting to tape shut.
“Will you just?” She questioned as she pulled the box away from him, shutting it properly before he could do any more damage. “What makes you think that I’m free?”
“Are you saying that you’re not?” He challenged with a smirk.
She paused for a long moment, opting to skip the question. “Aren’t you a busy man with things to do and places to be?”
“Not really.” He shrugged, looking around the nearly empty van for something to fiddle with. “I’ve got some press shit to do tomorrow but need to find something to kill time in between. Figured you could come keep me company.” He offered.
“Why?” She asked with a sceptical frown.
“Because you seem to enjoy my presence.” He gravitated towards the box of pins used for hanging the shirts, but she grabbed it before he could.
“Stop fiddling with my merch shit.” She scolded as she slipped the box into their bag of gear and put the last item on the trolley. “And what gave you that impression?”
He leaned back against the counter, waiting for her to face him before he answered. “You could’ve gone home ages ago and you didn’t. You hung around the venue.” He answered with an eyebrow raised. He didn’t need to spell it out for her to get what he was implying. She stayed silent for a long minute, trying to think of an argument against that but coming up empty. But the blush on her cheeks was enough to give her away. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He repeated.
“Yes, fine, I guess.” She huffed.
“Good.” He grinned. “I’ll text you where to meet me.”