Page 58 of Wish You Knew
Scott
Ihadn’t been out in days. Ever since the fiasco with Amy and finding out Rosie was seeing some guy called Andy, I festered in my apartment. I called for takeout if I was hungry, got the basics delivered in an online food shop, and basically drank or smoked my way through the long, long hours. Mat, Declan and Bobby had called and messaged, but I ignored them. They’d been working hard in the studio getting down the musical background to the new songs, waiting for me to come and put vocals over the top. I’d left them to it, not exactly being in the right frame of mind to observe and critique appropriately. Deep buried anger and resentment didn’t make me an impartial observer right now.
In the middle of the rerun of Top Gear I’d become addicted to, my phone vibrated. As usual, I gave it a cursory glance, intending to disregard whoever was bothering me this time.
Mat: I’m coming over whether you like it or not.Make sure you’re dressed and not wanking when I get there.
It was as if he could see me stretched out on the sofa in skanky boxer shorts and a vest top which had seen better days. Yeah, I’d had my hand down my shorts at times, but Matt LeBlanc didn’t do it for me.
I rested my head back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling. I could tell him not to bother, but he’d come over anyway. Reluctantly, I unlocked my phone and fired back a response.
Scott: Ring when you’re ten minutes away so I can clear away the tissues.
Mat sent back a laughing emoji and a thumbs up.
I dragged myself off the couch and into the bathroom. My reflection stared back at me: blood shot eyes, dark circles, a jawline darkened by unkempt stubble. Honestly, I looked like shit, with no-one to blame but myself. I stripped off my vest and shorts, nose wrinkling at the smell as I tossed them into the corner. No surprise really, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered.
The powerful jets of the shower went some way to washing away the stench of despair and loneliness, along with the fresh lemony scent of the shower gel. Scrubbing away what felt like layers of grime and dirt, my mood began to improve. I really hadn’t appreciated the feel-good factor of being fresh and clean.
Once dressed in jeans and a clean t-shirt, I pulled open the blinds, blinking as the weak sunshine streamed through the large windows.
The phone rang. I pounced on it, seeing Mat’s name on the screen. I answered, putting him on speaker. “Hey, mate.”
“I’m ten minutes away. Hope you’re not still in your pants.” I could hear Mat walking down the street, heels tapping on the pavement. “You need me to pick up anything?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
“See you in a bit.”
Ending the call, I turned and looked at the state of the living room. Empty take away boxes littered the dining table and had fallen onto the floor. Cans and bottles, some on their sides, covered the coffee table in front of the sofa. Remnants of food I hadn’t bothered to throw away, stuck to the carpet. I lived in a pig sty. While I waited for Mat, I made a half-hearted attempt at clearing up. I grabbed a black bin liner from the kitchen and chucked in as much of the debris as I could.
The intercom buzzed and I shoved the rubbish bag by the front door to remind me to take it out later and went to answer it.
“Come straight up. I’ll leave the door open.”
A few minutes later, the door banged shut as I plumped up the cushions on the sofa, trying to make it look as normal as possible.
“Fucking hell, Scott, it smells like a cross between a brewery and a Chinese takeaway in here.” Mat appeared in the doorway, a carrier bag in one hand. “I brought fresh supplies, although it doesn’t look like you need them.”
“Thanks, buddy.” I took the bag from him and grabbed two bottles of beer from it, cracking them open with the bottle opener I just happened to have in the pocket of my jeans.
“I’m slightly nervous to sit on that couch.” Mat pointed to the leather sofa with the top of his bottle. “You’ve been on your own way too long.”
“Fuck off.” I tossed a cushion at his head, then unfolded the throw over the back and opened it up over the seats. “Better?”
He laughed. “Only kidding, mate. We’ve experienced worse, right?”
We sat down, silence descending between us. Mat was doing the right thing, checking up on me, making sure I wasn’t about to do anything stupid.
“Oh, you need to listen to this.” He pulled a USB stick from his pocket. “Music for the new tracks. Wanted you to hear it before putting down the vocals. Think we’ve got several really strong single options that will get heaps of radio play.” He grinned. “Funnily enough, we seem to get a lot more done when you aren’t there.”
I took the stick from him. “Cool, I’ll listen to it later.”
“Make sure you’re sober when you do.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Don’t think I didn’t see the bag of rubbish by the door when I came in. Have you had people over?”
