This Turbulence is Beautiful.

“So, why are we here then, Matt?” I mumbled into my coffee the next morning. Matt had come in to awake me at some point in the morning- too bloody early since I’d had a late night and been drinking- and, after wolf whistling lowly at Josh being in my bed, told me we needed to go get a coffee together, just us two. Although I would have loved to have stayed in the comfort of the warm and cosy bed with my eyes shut tightly to shut out the bright light leaking in from the window that offended my eyes so much, coffee was too good of an opportunity to miss- and I hadn’t even really spoken to Matt since I’d been here.

So that led us to be sat in the small restaurant which transformed itself into a café at this time of morning, apparently. The tables were littered with business men catching up on minutes from past meetings before heading to the office and couples smiling happily across the table at each other on some kind of date or morning after experience.

“Well, I have several hidden agendas, really,” Matt smiled, setting down his cup of tea to let it cool slightly. I laughed, shaking my head. Matt always had hidden agendas. I knew that as soon as he burst through my door insisting on taking me out for coffee there was some news he was dying to tell me or something, “First things first; what the hell were you and Josh doing in bed together this morning? Tell me you didn’t…”

A mixture of surprise, fear and disgust flashed across my face sarcastically, before I settled into my real laughter, “Matt, you think so lowly of me! Of course we fucking didn’t. He just had no where else to sleep.”

“Yes, but that’s what the sofa is for, he didn’t need to sleep in your bed. With no trousers on, I might add.”

“You sound like you’re trying to be my father Matt. I dragged him upstairs without even thinking, okay? We were drunk, nothing happened, and I couldn’t expect him to sleep in skinny jeans- I’m not completely heartless,” I smiled at Matt, who simply shook his head with a smile.

“I wasn’t saying you were; I was just saying it was a shock. Josh doesn’t like sharing beds with anyone… he kicks in his sleep.”

I thought over last night with a smile, “Yes, I realised that at about 5 this morning actually. He also talks quite vividly. I told him to stop kicking me and he carried on a conversation with me, despite still being fast asleep- something about the carnival and cheese. I’m not really sure what he was on about…” I trailed off, as Matt laughed.

“Josh is a sleep talker when he’s drunk. He’s bloody terrible on the tour bus, keeps everyone up all fucking night if we don’t wake him up and tell him to shut it,” Matt mumbled, obviously trying to sound bitter about it, although the smile plastered across his face told a different story. All of the boys had this thing where they tried to make it sound like they got fed up of each other, but it just seemed to be because they were expected to. They had been on tours with other bands who hated spending time outside of the tour bus together, and who had argued every second of every day that they were together, and so they felt like it was expected of them to do the same- like they couldn’t be in a band together without getting pissed off at some point. But it simply wasn’t true. You could never tell them, but they were the closest friends I’d possibly ever seen; they spent loads of their time together, they hardly ever argued, and if they did get pissed off you wouldn’t know it. They all managed it well- the balanced personalities of the group kept them all under control. They were all different and they all appreciated each other more because of that.

“So why are we really here then Matt? I know it wasn’t to talk about Josh,” I smiled into my cappuccino, blowing the froth to the side with my breath.

“Well, a number of reasons. Josh wasn’t one of them until he was half naked in your bed this morning…”

“He had a bloody shirt on! Drop this, okay?” I laughed. Matt smirked, and I knew that he would bring it up again at some point- probably to maximise how embarrassed I was, even though I was trying not to show that to Matt. He would only use that against me, even if he could probably tell. He had this innate ability to be able to tell what I was thinking in seconds. We could practically talk in silence, with no-one else knowing what was going on. I guess that happens when you grow up with the same person as your best friend until you’re 19 years old.

The weird thing was, even though Matt and I had been friends since forever, we had never had a fling. I was never interested in him that way, and it was the same for him. He had girlfriends, I had one single boyfriend. Plus, we knew too much about each other to be able to go steady- there were always those supposed boundaries of how much about yourself you were supposed to tell your partner, but we didn’t have those boundaries. We knew each other so well, we would forever be able to tell what the other was thinking- if it was of someone else, or if it was doubt, or any general feelings you shouldn’t be feeling when you’re with someone. It would have been hell.

So, even though I once had a slight crush on Matt when I was about 12, I put that down to female hormones and swiftly got over it. The idea of dating him sort of repulsed me anyway, in a way that you’d be disgusted to date your brother or sister. It gave me those sorts of chills.

Matt's phone buzzed on the table, and he instantly picked it up, smiling before he even got a chance to open the text- but at least it distracted him from our conversation.

"Oh, I see what this is about Matty! You have a lady!" I smiled, giggling slightly as Matt blushed violently. He looked at me sheepishly, a lop-sided grin forming on his face, and his eyes sparkled just thinking about her, "Oh shit Matt! How long have you guys been going strong?"

"Why did you say it like that?" His face dropped, shocked at how I reacted, "We're not even going out. She's just this girl I like... sort of always there and it's nice to have someone to play around with and flirt a little," Matt smiled to himself, trying to play it as cool as he possibly could when his cheeks were burning, letting his eyes fall back down to his phone as he replied quickly to her text.

"So did you want to talk about her then?" I looked at him curiously. He looked so different just talking about her, I could tell he was serious about this already, and I hadn't even seen them together yet- and the fact that he'd tried to play down their relationship when it clearly meant quite a bit to him only heightened my suspicion of just how much she meant to him.

Matt looked up, laughing, "Well the thing is Rosie, I might need a bit of help. I really like her, but I've known her for, what, three months now. Like I'd seen her around but we only started talking properly a couple of months ago. We never had anything to talk about before that. Now I've started talking to her, I can't stop. I feel like I could talk to her all night. I stayed up the other night talking to her, and we were accidentally on instant messenger until about two in the morning. And the thing is, I only went because she did. I could have handled another three hours if she'd of asked me to. She makes me feel..." he trailed off, looking at me and thinking for a bit.

His teeth sunk into his lip as he smiled, and took a short breath, closing his eyes. He was nervous just mentioning her; I would imagine he was getting the same adrenalin rush I used to with Taylor before we were together. A mixture of butterflies and nerves- it was a crippling combination; makes you weak at the knees; makes you feel like you could pass out; and makes you feel damn stupid. Another blush crept onto his cheeks.

"Shit Rosie, she makes me feel like a bloody teenager. I get this stupid feeling in the pit of my stomach that I shouldn't be getting at the age of twenty. I've never even had it before, and it kind of makes me feel like a fool. But then she talks to me and it goes, straight away, although Josh reckons I go bright red every time I see her. How pathetic am I?" Matt sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand before pushing his chin into his palm, resting his elbow on his knee. His left knee that was elbow-free jittered up and down, a sign that he was nervous. I knew that sign because mine did the same- it was the kind of thing we did to show each other how we were feeling without actually telling each other.

"You're this nervous and you're not even with her. You must be a wreck around her," I laughed, teasing him; until I realised that he actually looked genuinely hurt by what I'd said, "Oh I didn't mean it Matty- I'm sure you're not even that bad. You probably relax around her. And Josh is probably only teasing to get a reaction."

"He does that a lot, but I can feel that I go red. She's just like, this burst of colour and energy. She's so different to me and yet we're so similar at the same time. Like all these little things we have in common- I feel like I'm stopping myself saying "me too" every time she makes a comment on something because otherwise I'd look like a stalker, or a creep, but I could talk about all these things and she'd agree. I have to hold myself back in talking to her all the time because otherwise I'd look weird, but I would happily talk to her every minute of every day if I could. And we talk on bloody instant messenger. I mean- how much more teenage could we possibly get? The only reason I got her number was because she couldn't get on the computer one time, and then I spent a load of my money texting her, and decided to get on contract. Oh god, I'm rambling. I can't help it Rosie, I start talking about her and I can't fucking stop!" Matt's voice rose at the last sentence and he slammed his forehead into his hand. I pulled his hand away from his head, and he looked up at me with pleading eyes, "Help me do something Rosie. Anything. She has no idea I even like her in that way as far as I can tell."

I held Matt's hand tightly, pushing my mind into thoughts. I didn't really know what Matt was going through; I hadn't experienced it in at least 5 years now, and even when Taylor and I were still tightly in that flirting stage, he still made it pretty clear what he thought was going to happen. He would grab my hand and kiss my cheek before I even really knew him that well.

"Do you like, flirt and stuff?" I pondered out loud. It came out in a sort of stutter because I was thinking back to Taylor and mine's relationship, and it was the happy stages too: when I would run to school with the hope of seeing him before my lessons; when seeing him for 10 seconds would brighten my day, even if I didn't speak to him. I missed being that young.

"Well, I try to. Whenever we go out we take turns in buying food. I'm always with her, whenever I have free time I'm with her. I took her to the cinema last week, but I guess it wasn't really like a date. And she refused to pick the movie so I had to pick one..."

"Oh no. What did you pick?" I smirked, trying to lighten Matt's mood with a smile. He smiled back at me, embarrassed, and muttered the movie under his breath. I didn't hear properly, so I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Ironman 2," he mumbled.

I visibly grimaced, "Oh, nice and romantic to start off then!" I laughed, and Matt joined in slightly, still clearly embarrassed.

"Hey, she likes super hero movies. When I went over her place we watched Wolverine. She had it on DVD. And she was chatting all the way through Ironman, quite animatedly- about how cheesy the ending was and such. And she has all these amazing DVDs on her fireplace shelf. Like, the whole X-men box set, and Origins, and Incredible Hulk- all these superhero movies, remakes and old ones..." Matt trailed off again, lost in thought about her DVD collection, apparently. I giggled, and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"She sounds like a girl you should definitely date, even if it just means I can sit and watch X-men with her. Although I didn't place you as the superhero movie type. You used to hate me for making you watch the cartoons when we were little," I smiled gleefully, recalling so many little tiffs about whether to watch Superman or one of the many shows Matt adored that used to plague Cartoon Network.

Matt laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with an odd mixture of guilt and happiness, "I still hate them, but if it gets the woman going, who am I to complain?"



After an hour of conversation about this girl, whose name I found out was Anna, I realised that Matt was utterly smitten with her. He knew so much about her, and whenever his phone buzzed, he leapt on it as if it contained military secrets, smiling to himself with every character that he read on the small screen, tapping back a message to her with such lightening speed it made me almost jealous.

But then, to say I wasn't jealous would have been a lie- not only of Matt's ridiculous skills in the texting department, but with how happy he seemed to be. I considered my time with Taylor and wondered if he had ever been this excited to be talking about me, or if he had got those feelings in the pit of his stomach when he saw me in the same way I did with him, or that Matt did with Anna. Did he talk about me to everyone all the time like I did vice versa, or was I just there- something he had around simply because there was nothing really better? The thought that he didn't even care about me made me almost cry, but I checked myself and made sure to keep any stray tears back.

"Anyway Rosie, Anna was only one part of this two-turned-three-part talking session. I did something crazy and I don't know if you're going to appreciate it but Anna thought it was a good idea when I asked her so I did it anyway..."

The fact that Matt said this without a breath didn't help the fact that I knew this could only be a bad thing. I was almost dreading what was coming next, but he took a breath, finally, and said "Rosie, I got you a job."

I don't know if the colour drained from my face, but for some reason, I felt petrified by this fact. I had quit my old job in London without much of an explanation so I had no real references, so it couldn't exactly be the cushy office job I was used to and had worked for. "Oh. Where is it, Matty?" I tried to sound as upbeat as possible about the fact that I may be working in a shit hole in a couple of days.

"Here," Matt said simply; almost proudly.

I sighed and rolled my eyes as dramatically as I could, "Yes, Matt, I wasn't expecting it to be in London or Reading. Weybridge, yes?" He nodded smugly, "So where?"

He mimicked my sigh and sarcastic roll of the eyes, "Here, Rosie. In this bar," he smiled expectantly.

The fear sort of rose again- I'd never done any sort of bar or restaurant work, even in my young-teen age span when I was desperate for money to buy fast food and cheap clothes. But then, as I looked around the place, it sort of settled warmly into my stomach. It could have been a lot worse- the place looked remotely clean and friendly, and the waitress that had served us our coffees this morning seemed nice enough.

"Why did you go and do that, Matt?" I smiled, confusion folded into my forehead.

"Well, I figured that me and the boys- we like having you around. You take some of the chaos from the house and add a bit more cleavage, which can never be a bad thing," Matt wiggled his eyebrows in a false suggestive way, "and I didn't want you to have to go back to London, to that dick for brains, even if he begs you. You may as well stay here, Rizzle, even if it's just for a little while. A job is sort of cementing you being able to stay here, even permanently if you fancy it. You can move back here to Weybridge and with me- where you belong."

I do not know how I didn't cry at that statement. Why had it taken me so long to come back and see this sweetheart of a man?