Chapter Text
He’d been holed up in his studio all week working on new tracks, endlessly tinkering and playing with things, changing it up, putting it back, trying to make it perfect. Meg had grown accustomed to talking to the back of his head when she’d creep in and slide a cup of tea onto his desk before creeping out again. Half the time he didn’t even notice her come in, so absorbed in his own little world and cocooned with his headphones on.
He’d make a brief appearance for dinner, after her badgering him about the importance of taking a break and looking after himself but more often than not, he’d disappear again soon after. She knew it was just until this deadline passed and then she’d get him back so she rode along with it.
The house was quiet, she’d just settled down with her book when she heard a thud followed by a string of curses from upstairs.
“Fuuuuck! No, no, fucking no! You absolute piece of fucking shit, don’t you fucking-fuck-”
“Babe?” She called out, inquisitively looking up at the ceiling.
“I’m ok!” He called back, perfectly normal as though nothing had happened though she could still hear his fists thumping on the desk and the odd ‘fuck’ muffled through the walls.
It didn’t seem like nothing but she was loathe to go up there and interrupt him, invariably if he’d lost his temper she was going to say or do the wrong thing so she opted to let him settle and come to her in his own time.
Flicking her eyes back to the book she did her best to get back into the chapter, trying to ignore the noises that continued to filter down to her.
From the corner of her eye she saw him slope past, shoulders hunched, as he tossed his laptop onto the table with a loud thud making her physically jump. He slumped down onto the sofa beside her, face like thunder.
“Spilled my fucking tea all over that fucking cunt.” He spewed, pointing at the laptop in an accusatory manner. She closed the book and watched as he continued.
“And now that little piece of shit won’t switch on! All my fucking work, gone. Lost it. Can’t get into it. Fuck!”
“I’m sure there’ll be a way to get it back.” She soothed, trying to reassure him.
It was an accident plain and simple but the less said about the tea the better, had this inadvertently been her fault for not making him aware the cup was there before she’d left the room? She certainly hoped not. He sat and scowled.
“Isn’t everything backed up to the cloud?” She tried again.
“No, there’s things I’ve been working on that are specifically on that computer, I need to get them back.”
“Then, I bet if you take it into the Apple store they’ll be able to get it sorted, they’re meant to be geniuses aren’t they?”
This was not a time for joking, even if it was in the mildest sense.
“Ohhh, fuck!” He clawed at his hair in frustration. “I’m going to have to aren’t I?” The thought of traipsing into busy central London one of the last things he would possibly want to do tomorrow but with little other option.
***
Matty had been knocking around like a bear with a sore head ever since she got home from work and she knew it must have been since long before then too.
“They’ve taken my baby.” He said, genuinely mournful at the loss of his laptop. Meg couldn’t help but smile at his change of tune since yesterday. How ‘that piece of shit’ was now his precious darling.
“I know, babe.” She stroked his arm sympathetically. “What did they say?”
“They’re going to take it apart, clean all the components, rebuild and then see from there.”
“I bet this kind of thing happens all the time, they must fix these kind of problems all the time.”
“I know.” He relented. “But I really, really need it back, I was so close to finishing and I don’t want to have to re-do everything again. I don’t think I can.”
The next couple of hours involved a rotation of sulky, pouty faces interspersed with loud sighing, checking the phone and then tutting when a call from tech support had not miraculously come through despite constantly staring at the phone willing it to ring. He paced. He cracked his knuckles. He fidgeted. He was restless and it was starting to drive her up the wall.
“Wine?” she called to him from the kitchen.
“Mmm...” He hesitated, reluctant to commit.
“Matty, it’s after 7 on a Friday night, they’re not going to call you now. Have a glass of wine, try and relax and I’m sure they’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
***
Saturday set off to much the same start, his edginess had not subsided, entirely distracted as she tried to talk to him or encourage him out of the house for a walk, a cup of coffee, anything. Every time his phone buzzed his hand twitched and he would drop everything to grab for it, only to be disappointed that it wasn’t the very specific call he wanted. He was single-mindedly obsessed with wanting the laptop back. When his third call of the day rang through he refused to answer, sending it directly to voicemail and sighing loudly.
“Matty!” Her voice carried up the stairs to where he was letting his frustrations run riot in his studio. She appeared in the doorway. “George on the phone for you.” She held her phone out for him, frowning when spotting his sitting prominently on the desk in front of him.
“George, what’s up?...because I’m waiting for a call and I can’t have you tying up my phone line…no, it’s ok I can talk.” She couldn’t help but throw her arms up, giving him an exasperated look as she walked away shaking her head in despair.
By early evening the call had still not come through and he was bouncing off the walls with nervous energy. Meg was reaching her wits end with him.
“Right, that’s it.” She announced, breaking him from his repeating cycle. “Get changed, we have got to get out of here.”
“Huh? Why?” He asked, a picture of innocence.
“I cannot sit here all night with this going on.” She waved her hands in his general direction. “You’re so wound up, I think you’re gonna snap…or I am.”
“But I-” he started to protest.
“But you what? You can bring your damn phone, doesn’t matter where you are, they’re still not going to call tonight!”
He swallowed hard at the bluntness of her tone.
“Where we going?” He asked with trepidation.
“Camden, taking you to one of my old haunts so you need to dress appropriately.”
***
“Are you sure I look ok? I’ve not been to a hardcore gig in, well, since I was about 17 probably.”
“You look fine.” She said. “You look really fucking good, actually.”
“Yeah?” He relished in the compliment. “I feel too old for this.”
“You’re not too old!”
“What if someone recognises me?”
“They won’t.” She tugs his Cubs hat further onto his head. “And if they do, they’re not likely to admit to it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He bites at her comment.
“I don’t think you’re their cup of tea, is all. Come on, you know you’re not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“You think I’m not cool?”
“It’s not about being cool. You’re just not part of this scene anymore, you’re not really on their radar. And that’s fine. Let’s just go in there, you don’t have to worry about being hassled you can just enjoy the music, let some of your pent up energy out.”
She looped her arm through his and confidently walked them down a side street and into a dubious looking pub. Matty felt nervous stepping through the door, looking around sheepishly at the others inside but no-one so much as looked in their direction, absorbed in their own conversations. Whilst Meg ordered them each a drink he took another sly look at his phone, just in case he’d missed an update; checking that he still had reception in the venue. Meg valiantly resisted the urge to swipe the thing out of his hand as she nudged a pint glass towards him.
“Through here.” She nodded and he diligently followed her into the back room where a flood of nostalgia washed over him.
He’d not been in a space like this in far too long. So many memories wrapped up in similarly dingy venues where tattered posters hung from walls painted black to mask the years of grime built up on them. Peeling carpet barely held in place by lines of electrical tape. The smell of dankness and stale alcohol. This was his youth and he felt an overwhelming sense of longing to be back in a room like this again.
He stood against the back wall with Meg, taking it all in, he felt his shoulders start to relax as he realised he wasn’t so far removed from those days, this was still his comfort zone.
“Ok?” She asked him, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet since they got here.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He smiled, drinking his beer.
As the first band got ready to play, she could feel the buzz starting to build in Matty, he knew the familiar feeling of excitement for the start of a set and with the first strike of a chord, she could see his arms move along with the muscle memory of it all.
“You can move forwards, you don’t have to hang back with me.” She said.
“No, no way, I’m not getting in the pit!” He laughed.
As the night drew on though, his tiny movements had gradually built and the speculative smile he’d initially displayed had grown into a bigger and bigger grin. Before she knew it, his glass was in her hand and he was off, amongst the bodies, enjoying the anonymity to let loose and feel the thrum of the music through his bones.
“I’m so sweaty and I’m going to hurt tomorrow.” He said as they headed back out into the night.
“Feel better?” She asked, though she could feel the adrenaline radiating off him.
“Yeah, I do.” And she knew it must be true, he’d not looked at his phone once in over an hour.
***
He woke the next morning, his limbs stiff and sore from exertion. He was used to working out regularly but this had been a workout on a whole different level, a different set of muscles being pulled and contorted. He felt sure he must have a few bruises as well but none of that compared to the release he’d felt and he’d slept so well as a result.
“Morning.” She murmured, closing the gap between them. “How you holding up?”
“I hurt in places I’ve not felt before.” He groaned. She nudged him to roll over on his front as she climbed on top of him and started massaging his shoulders.
“Oh god, that feels amazing.” He mumbled into the pillow, enjoying the pressure from her hands until he feels himself drifting back into a sleepy state. He turns abruptly, not wanting to lose the rest of his morning to unconsciousness, his sudden movement knocking her off balance and back onto the mattress. He seizes the opportunity then to reverse roles and slide himself to be on top of her.
“Can I make you feel amazing now?” He asks with a smile, kissing her neck.
“I don’t know, can you?” She teases.
“Challenge accepted.” He replies, arching an eyebrow as his kisses begin to trail down her neck and across her chest.
He doesn’t notice or at least doesn’t respond as his phone buzzes on the bedside table but her arm instinctively reaches out for it.
“Matty...” She taps on his shoulder but he doesn’t even lift his head, just hums into her skin. “It’s Apple.”
“Fuck Apple, I’m busy, they can wait.”