You Could Be My Unintended...

By the time I had finished my meals, as I had spent long enough in that one cafe` to eat breakfast, lunch AND dinner, I had rejected ten phone calls, screened three text messages and ducked under the window four times, all in a sad attempt to avoid various people I didn’t feel like seeing.

Eventually the small cafe` I was in decided to close for the night and, after realising I had been sitting in the restaurant all day, I came to the conclusion that now was the time to leave.

Slowly, I trudged back to Matt’s hotel room. The sun had begun to set and I could feel the cold breeze settle in, chilling me to my very bones. My pace quickened.

I found myself back at Matt’s hotel room before 9pm and was greeted by the sounds of him laughing hysterically at some animals on the television. The seat next to his shaking body was empty until I filled it. He placed his arm around me as he tried to control his shaking and the steady flow of tears that had started to run down his hollow cheeks. The blue in his eyes shimmered as he stared me down, as if enquiring why I wasn’t laughing too.

My forced smile didn’t fool him at all but he let it go, just for me. The not entirely uncomfortable silence lasted until the sounds of something vibrating erupted from Matt’s back pocket. His ring tone followed, some loud Rage Against the Machine riff blasted through his phone’s tiny crappy speakers.

After a short hesitation he flipped the phone open and held it to his ear, greeting the person on the other end. ‘Yeah. Yeah, she is. No. Because I said so. Because she doesn’t want to talk to you. Because she thinks you’re a douche bag.’

I couldn’t help the tears that began to swim in my eyes, making everything appear much, much closer than before. The warm liquid managed to escape my eye lids and flow down my cheeks, dripping from my chin and leaving little dots on my arms, shirt and pants. I felt so pathetic, crying over a boy who didn’t want me. It was such a... feminine thing to do. This wasn’t me. This was someone else. I didn’t do this.

Bu I was doing this. I was sitting there, crying while Matt tried to hang up on his other best friend. I was the kind of girl I had always hated.

‘Look, Dom, I’ll talk to you later. I have problems to deal with.’ He flipped his phone closed and stared at me for a minute, silent. It looked as though he wanted me to say something first and, because I didn’t want to speak, the silence continued.

In this light his blue eyes shimmered, the intensity of the colour had increased tenfold. His mouth was pulled into a tight, straight line across his face and his eyebrow twitched every few seconds, itching to raise one. His hair was a black mess on top of his head. The ring on his finger, made by a loyal fan, had left marks on his ring finger, possibly because it was just a little too small. The shirt he was wearing was stylishly ripped at the wrists. It was pure, undiluted Matthew James Bellamy in his prime.

He took his arm from around my shoulders and entwined our fingers, squeezing them for a second. Matt was never one to sit in silence so he started to speak first. ‘Hey, look, Sarah, Sare Bear, he’s really sorry. He also acknowledges that he’s a massive douchey douche bag and that he should rot in hell. He ALSO knows that you probably really, really don’t want to talk to him... but maybe you could try? If not for him then for me? He’s kind of my other best friend and I can’t exactly not talk to him because he’s a third of the band that I’m in and we’re touring and I’m sorry that I’m betraying you by being friends with him. And I’m sorry that I let that happen. And I’m sorry that I keep talking like this.’

His grip in my hand remained firm, it was obvious he was stopping me from leaving and trying to force me to think about it. I also made it obvious that I wasn’t going to cave in that easily. I was going to bitch and moan and make it as difficult as possible to live with me, because that’s the way I worked. If something went wrong, instead of trying to fix it, I would complain until someone tried to fix it for me. It was the small things about my personality that infuriated Matt... and, to be honest, that was half the reason I did it in the first place.

Matt cleared his throat quietly, queuing me to speak. ‘He has to say that to me himself.’ Those uttered words stuck in my throat, forcing me to cough them out. Matt’s black stare and slightly agape mouth told me he had not understood my randomly choked out words. So I repeated them to him slowly and clearly, being careful not to choke again.

As he opened his mouth to say something, more likely sarcastic than anything, there was a knock at the door. I rose to answer it, only to be pushed back down by Matt who ran, full speed, towards the door. Unfortunately for him, but hilariously for me, he didn’t stop in time and smacked, face first, into the shut, hard wood door. Confused and bewildered, he stepped back quickly, rubbing his nose.
‘Ow. That hurt.’
I took a break from laughing to ask him if he was ok, to which he responded that he was and that I should stop laughing... which I tried to.

Matthew stopped glaring at me long enough to answer the door. On the other side stood a surprised Chris, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels, a slightly bored looking Tom, holding his camera and Dom, he just stood there looking awkward.

Without another minute of standing in the doorway Chris waltzed in and plonked himself down on the couch next to me, opening the bottle of Jack and taking a swig. Once he was finished I took the bottle off him and took a gulp of it myself, feeling the shiver as the taste of undiluted bourbon burned my tongue, without waiting for my stomach to comprehend the rush of alcohol that was making its way towards my colon after stopping at my liver, I took another, bigger swig.

After everyone was good and confident the conversation flowed freely, as did the mixture of drinks that seemed to keep appearing. Once it crossed my mind that Matt might have some sort of plan to get us drunk and happy but that idea didn’t last long. Soon enough I had forgotten my troubles and was fighting with Tom over who would win in a fight between Godzilla and Superman. The fight got nowhere and neither of us were happy with the result... which was a ‘If you two don’t pipe down I will kick you both out of this room’ from Chris.

The entire time they were there I did not say a word to Dom. No opportunity came up, but I could feel Matt’s eyes on the back of my neck, trying to will me to speak to him. Eventually a sense of paranoia overpowered me and I decided to try my fate at talking to Dom.

‘Hey,’ I started, as I figured ‘hey’ was a good way to start a conversation. ‘How’s it going?’ soon followed.

The look of shock on his face said it all, he had forgotten I could speak. ‘Oh, hey.’ His response left a lot to be desired and made the air thicken with an awkward energy that I knew I would struggle aimlessly to ignore.

‘How are you?’ I asked, clutching at straws. We had said three, now six words in total in this conversation and it was already awkward and uncomfortable.

‘I’m pretty good, better than yesterday that’s for sure.’ He smiled weakly, shifting around to face me completely.

‘What was wrong yesterday?’ I furrowed my brow in thought.

‘Well, you disappeared off the face of the Earth, I decided to be an ass and do what I did and Matt very nearly stabbed me.’ At the mention of his... wrong doing... he and I both decided to stare into our laps instead of at each other. The awkward energy worsened.

‘Oh.’

‘Hey, I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was stupid. She was stupid. I don’t know.’

I decided not to answer and to instead, in an attempt to hide the fact that my eyes had once again filled with tears, look behind me in Matt’s direction.

He had donned a grass skirt and was showing a hysterical Chris and Tom how exactly to hula. Tom, all the while, was filming... as always.

Once my oddly reoccurring tears had decided to disappear I turned back to face Dom. ‘I think he’s had too much to drink.’

‘Impossible. He’s still got his clothes on.’ Even though we both laughed we knew that what he had said was entirely true. It was easy to tell when Matt had had a good night. Generally once he takes his clothes off in a public bid for others to do the same, you know he’s well and truly hammered.

‘That’s true, that’s true. Oh! Shebangles!’ My phone had started to vibrate and the song ‘This Night Has Opened My Eyes’ had started to play. Without looking at the caller, I answered it.

‘Hey, Sarah... guess who it is.’ Matt’s voice rang both throughout the room and through the tiny speaker on my phone.

‘Would it happen to be my best friend who’s had a bit too much to drink?’ I asked, turning to face him as he tried to hide the phone in his hand.

‘Maybe’ Matt’s response was followed by a high pitched, childlike giggle.

I decided that now was the time to end this weird, small and not very dynamic party the only way I knew how. ‘Time for bed, kiddies.’

The groans that followed as the boys accepted defeat the way only semi drunk and lazy grown men would, pleased me. I led Matt to his room as the others left and made sure he got to bed. I then, feeling no need to spend another night in Matt’s room, grabbed my coat and locked the door to his room behind me.

Dom was waiting beside the door for me. ‘Want me to walk you to your room?’ He offered and I couldn’t help but accept.

Together, we walked all ten steps to my room and he waited with me as I unlocked the door. Just before walking in I turned to him... not entirely sure of what to say. ‘Good night.’

He stared at me for a few seconds, and I stood in the door way as his stare intensified.

‘Are you going to say something or should I just walk inside and leave you out here?’ I asked no one in particular... but mostly Dom.

‘Shh...’ He hushed, ‘I’m trying to decide something.’

‘Well... can you hurry it up? I need to shower.’ My arms crossed in front of my chest.

‘Patience is a virtue.’ He laughed to himself, his smile broadened and he took the step between us and pressed his lips to mine quickly and sweetly. Dom backed away, shaking his head in response to some thought he was having.

I stood there, mouth wide open, deciding whether to hit him or kiss him back. Instead, I backed into my room and closed the door without saying anything else to him.

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I knew I was dreaming... but it was one of those dreams you don’t want to wake up from.
We were both there, lying on a couch. His body on top of mine, supported only by his arms placed on either side of my body, muscles tensed though not straining under his weight. Slowly, he leaned down to place one perfect kiss on my lips, followed by one less perfect kiss on my neck. His grey eyes held mine as one of his hands shifted to push a stray hair out of my face.
I woke up cold and alone in my empty hotel room, once again unsatisfied with my cruel, unforgiving imagination.