I Won't Give Up On You

The next day Oli slept in. He'd have to play a show that night, and he needed to rest his vocals. On the other hand, Matt woke up with a hangover. The events of last night weighed on his shoulders as he passed Oliver. Today he was planning on confronting him. It was tearing him up, the fact that he hadn't known it was happening. Bags dripped from his eyes as he took a seat on the couch. Matt reached in the small fridge and grabbed a water. It was cold over his dry throat, giving him some sort of relief. Tom slept on the end of the couch with his body hanging halfway off, like he just plopped down sloppily and passed out.

He looked down at Tom wondering if he knew. With a doubtful expression, he turned away. Tom and Oli hadn't spoken in over a week. Matt wanted to ask Tom if he knew, but if he didn't he'd be exposing Oliver. Trying to sort out his thoughts, he leaned back letting his head rest on the back of the couch. Matt heard coughing coming from Oli's bunk and looked around the corner, seeing a leg slip back into the bunk. He leaned back, wondering if he was awake.

Oli kept coughing, his throat burning as he sat up in the bed. He was getting worse, but trying to stay strong. It was proving to be hard for him, and soon he'd have to let go of what he was holding on to. The singer finally got up, stumbling into the front lounge of the bus. He remembered what he was wearing and wished he would have changed before he left his bunk. He spotted Matt on the couch, a smile spreading across his lips. Oliver reached for the water bottle in the fridge, and drank the top half of it. It soothed his itching throat, but not completely.

Matt looked up, a worried look washing over his face. Oliver was good at disguising his cuts. The few on his arm were hidden among his tattooed arm. He had cuts on the inside of his ankles, so no one could see them unless they knew where to look. Oliver tried to hide it, but to his best abilities, he was a sloppy sleeper.
"Hello Oliver," Matt said softly, looking up at the singer. He didn't care how much his head hurt, he needed to talk to Oli.

Oliver smiled at Matt, and finished off his water before answering. "'Ello Matt," he said, his raspy voice butchering the words. The 'h' was hardly audible through his British accent. Matt was bursting at the seams. Oli didn't act unhappy, or sad. So why would he cut himself? He tried to make sense out of it all, but he couldn't. "Oli, want to go out for breakfast? Everyone's asleep and I need the company. There's an Ihop across the street. I know you hate American food, but its all we've got." A nervous expression settling on his face.

Oliver shrugged and nodded, "You know, I'm not that really that hungry, but I'd love to join you," he said tiredly. He was happy that Matt believed that he wasn't hungry.
"Alright, I need a change of clothes. You too, its cold outside," Matt told him with a chuckle as he got up from the couch.

Watching Matt walk towards his bunk, Oliver did the same. He found his Dinosaurs hoodie and favorite black skinny jeans. He pulled them on, and found Matt already waiting for him in the front of the bus. The walk was peaceful. Oliver pulled his hood up over his messy hair, and lit a cigarette. Matt however felt totally unaccomplished in talking to Oli about what he wanted to. He observed Oliver, watching him breath out the smoke in a never ending chain

The smoke relaxed him, all he thought of was inhaling and exhaling the precious smoke that made him relax. The walk was short and uneventful on Matt's side, but Oli still remained unaware that Matt even knew. Once finally inside Ihop, they were seated around a bunch of old people. Literally, there was zero young people in the place. Matt found that out of all places, this would be the safest. After ordering their drinks, and food Matt finally spoke.

"Oliver?" he asked, looking down at his blue berry pancakes.

"Hmm?" Oliver asked, looking up from his phone. He took a drink from his glass of water.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you," he said softly, taking a bite of his pancakes.

Oliver raised his eye brow, putting his phone down on the table.
Matt set his fork down, and sighed. "Look Oliver, I know about your cutting habit," he said quickly, just wanting to get it out of his brain, "Why didn't you just come to me for help?" he asked, feeling as if at least he was trying now.

Oliver was shocked at first, not knowing what to say. How did Matt know? Why did he even care? Oliver shook his head, looking down at the light colored table. "Matt, you wouldn't understand. I'm... I'm just unhappy with myself. I feel like I'm failing with my weight, and cutting is sort of an accomplishment. Like, the deeper I cut the more satisfied I am with myself," he said in a quiet voice, it becoming raspy towards the end.

Matt looked at Oli for a moment, wishing he knew what he was going through. He wasn't ever unhappy with his own weight, but he does remember high school, and Oli hated it.
"Look Oli, I'm okay with it. But please, i beg you, don't let it get out of hand. You're my best friend, and I couldn't live without you," he told him, a warm smile appearing on his face.
They finished breakfast, well Matt did, and headed back to the bus. Oliver felt comforted, closer to Matt than he ever was, but everything wasn't fixed just yet. Oliver still needed the relationship with his brother that he'd been missing all this time.