The Lady and the Tramp-Matty Healy Imagine
Modern social psychology tells us that the old idea “opposite attract” is not scientifically valid. Numerous studies have been done on the subject and they’ve all reached this conclusion. Then could someone please explain just how I, Y/N Y/L/N of the Y/L/Ns, am dating Matty Healy.
I know what you’re thinking: “Wow, she’s kind of a b—-h” and you’re not far off. I grew up in a castle in Germany because my father is a duke and my mother comes from old money. Servants did my bidding and I have received everything I wanted for as long as I can remember. However, unlike most girls in my position, I decided not to just spend most of my time buying the new Fendi bag or sitting front row during Fashion Month. That led me to work extremely hard in school in order to get accepted at Oxford University as a psychology major. Those four years were probably the most stressful of my life, but I was determined not be to be the typical idiot rich girl. All the hard work paid off since I graduated at the top of my class and got into Oxford’s PhD psychology program. My parents didn’t understand why I chose such a stressful path since I was born into a life of luxury, but they still supported me and insisted on sending me a more than generous weekly allowance in spite of my protests and teaching assistant job. My friends couldn’t understand why I would want to further my education after boarding school but they were still proud of me even though they insisted on taking me out when they thought I was letting school take over my life. That’s how I met Matty.
One night, Y/B/F/N stormed into our shared flat and dragged me away from my thesis writing with the promise of an amazing night out at Beaufort Bar. I had been working on my important paper for three hours so I persuaded myself that it would be okay for me to take the night off. So, I changed into a purple silk slip dress I bought ages ago from Reformation and slipped on a pair of tan Manolos. Y/B/F/N pulled my hair into a curly ponytail and did my makeup so that I looked acceptable at the bar. We grabbed our jackets since it was still freezing in London before we went out to our favorite bar.
“I love this place,” Y/B/F/N announced as she slid onto a black and gold brocade couch that was the bar’s signature.
“I can tell,” I teased.
I sat down across from her and slipped off my faux fur jacket. A waiter came for our drink orders and Y/B/F/N ordered the most expensive beer on the menu while I ordered wine.
“You’re so posh, Y/N,” Y/B/F/N said.
“No, I’m just civilized,” I argued.
Y/B/F/N made a “pfft” noise. “Please, you’re so posh that you scared all the boys away back when we were at boarding school because none of them met your impossible standards.”
“My standards aren’t impossible. I don’t want to date just just anyone off the street.”
“That’s your problem.” Y/B/F/N leaned towards me. “Be honest, when is the last time you had a shag?”
My cheeks burned and my eyes widened in shock. That question was extremely inappropriate no matter who it came from. “That’s none of your business.”
“You’re such a prude. You need to relax or else you’re going to lose your mind. I know several blokes who are interested in you, if you’d let me set you up,” Y/B/F/N said.
“Dr. Peterson is considering me to co author his book and with that ontop of my class as well as my research, I don’t have time for anything to do with shagging; I barely have time to go to bars and have a nice glass of wine anymore,” I said.
Even though what I said was true, I couldn’t help but feel lonely sometimes. Living with my best mate was great and all but having a romantic partner when things became stressful was different and I hadn’t had a boyfriend since boarding school. Y/B/F/N opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by our waiter returning with our drinks.
When he set my glass of wine in front of me, he said, “Yours is compliments from the gentleman over there.” The waiter tipped his head behind him and I turned.
Sitting at the bar was a man around mine and Y/B/F/N’s age. His skin was so pale that I wondered if he burned instead of tanned during the summer like most Englishman. He wore a black leather jacket over a silky paisley shirt that was mostly unbuttoned to show off his tattoo. His skinny jeans left little to the imagination and his leather boots were shiny. His mop of dark curls fell into his face a little but the dark eyes staring back at me were visible. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in my direction.
I turned back around to face Y/B/F/N and nodded to the waiter. “Thank you.”
He nodded and walked to service other customers.
“He sent you a drink?” Y/B/F/N asked, not taking her eyes off the man.
“Why must you say it like that?” I took a sip of the wine.
“Because he’s Matty Bloody Healy from The 1975. Does being a psychology genius hinder you from keeping up with rock and roll’s young finest?” Y/B/F/N said.
I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know him.”
“You have to go talk to him.”
“I don’t want to; he’s not my type.”
“He’s a rock star, Y/N, he’s everyone’s type. Plus, he’s so cool even though I’m more of a George girl myself.”
“He smokes and he wears women’s clothing. I can’t date a guy like him. Besides, if I liked him, he’d have to be the one to approach me.”
Y/B/F/N rolled her eyes and muttered some curse words as she began drinking more of her beer. I had to admit that Matty was attractive and there was something so arousing about smoking and drinking. He was the complete opposite of the men I usually go for, but, why was I even considering this after my big speech?
I was about halfway done with my wine when none other than Matty approached Y/B/F/N and I. He looked down at me with this dreamy look in his eyes.
“Hi, I’m Matty and I was about to leave but I would never forgive myself if I left without knowing your name,” he said with his crisp accent.
“That’s very nice of you, Matty. I’m Y/N and this is Y/B/F/N, she’s a big fan of yours.”
Matty only glanced at Y/B/F/N, who was smiling widely at me. “Oh, that’s nice.” He turned his attention back to me.
“Thank you for the drink, Matty, really appreciate it.”
“It was actually an excuse to talk to a beautiful woman like yourself.”
I raised my eyebrows at his bold words and couldn’t ignore the warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. Lord, it had been so long since a man flirted with me in a non-vulgar sense. “Do you say that to all the girls you buy drinks for?”
“No, you’re the only one.”
Y/B/F/N stood. “I’m gonna go get another one of these.” She waved the bottle a little as she stood and winked at me before she walked over to the bar.
I was suddenly nervous to be left alone with Matty but he put me at ease when he sat down in the seat next to mine.
“So, what brings you to London? Y/B/F/N told me you were quite the rock star.”
“I’m here for a couple of shows but we’re going to Berlin tomorrow,” Matty said.
“I’m sure you’ll have fun there.”
Matty and I ended up staying at Beaufort much too long. He bought me more wine and drank more himself. We talked about everything: current events, music, and TV. Matty ranted about how he hated the trivial interview questions he always got asked and how he truly was all about the band and the music. It was funny when he imitated his fellow band mates even though I had no idea who they were. He ended up walking me back to my flat since Y/B/F/N was long gone. We spent the whole time laughing and talking.
“Wow, you’re way out of my league,” Matty said.
“No, honestly, anyone can go to college and get where I am if they work hard enough.” I swung my vintage Prada bag back and forth as Matty wrapped his arm around my waist.
We practically danced down the sidewalk in the cold, ignoring the glares of the few people who were still out at that hour. Matty was singing an old British drinking song and I joined him, singing loudly and off key. When the song was over, we both burst into laughter and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“I must say this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” I jerked my head up at Matty. “Don’t tell Y/B/F/N I said that or she’ll kill me.”
Matty mimicked locking his lips with a key and sliding the key into his pocket. “Your secret is safe with me, milady.”
I playfully rolled my eyes at his words as we continued down the street. Finally, we reached my building and slowly began walking up the stairs. I opened the front door and leaned against the wall. We were in a lobby section before the door that only employees and tenants could access with their keys. It was still cold but I ignored it since Matty was still with me.
Matty smirked and walked closer to me. “Tonight was smashing, love.”
I nodded. “Indeed it was.” I leaned forward a little bit and looked down at his nice boots. “Music must be treating you well if you’re wearing the new Saint Laurents.”
Matty scoffed but when I looked up at him, he had a bit of a goofy smile on his face. “Miss Y/L/N, are you after me for my money?”
“No, I don’t need your money, I have plenty of my own.” I rocked back to lean against the wall. “My father is the duke of Schlosse and my mother comes from an aristocratic family.”
“That explains why you’re so posh.”
“I’m not posh!”
“Even when you’re drunk, you’re posh.”
I rolled my eyes and felt myself falling forward again, only to feel Matty’s soft lips under mine. I pulled away a centimeter but Matty cupped my face and looked into my eyes. For a moment, I was paralyzed but relaxed as my eyes closed and we kissed again. Usually, drunken snogs were sloppy and full of saliva, but his were warm and controlled. When we both pulled away, I smiled.
“I’ll call you the next time I’m in London,” Matty said.
He pecked my lips and slipped out of the door and down the stairs. Out of confusion, I ran to the top of the steps.
“You’re not going to try and come up to my flat?” I called.
Matty turned and smirked at me. “A gentleman never pushes a lady into such things.”
And with that, I found myself becoming infatuated with Matty Healy. The next day, I surprised him in Berlin and showed him all of my favorite places to go in the city. He was fun to be around and his way of looking at things and life was so different from my own it fascinated me. That night, Matty had me sit front row at his show and I heard him and the rest of the band play for the first time. They were brilliant, absolutely brilliant. I had no idea Matty could sing so well or play the guitar and each song was different but brilliant in its own right.
I told him all of this when the show was over but he waved me off playfully. The rest of the band wanted to go out and celebrate but Matty tried to talk me out of going with them. Did I really seem so prudish that he believed that I wouldn’t enjoy a night out? However, I managed to convince him that my going along with them would be brilliant and we all started off towards the best club. As we walked down the street, I heard someone calling my name.
“Y/N? Y/N!” I turned to face a comely older woman wearing a gray belted cotton dress. Her hair was pulled into an updo and she was carrying a snakeskin purse. She looked surprised but still walked over to me and hugged me in spite of the fact that I was still arm-in-arm with Matty. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, Mother, I was here to see Matty and his band play. Matty, this is my Mother.”
“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Matty said, stretching his hand out to shake my mom’s.
Mother glanced at him for a second and then turned back to look at me with a fake smile on her face. “Darling, we really must talk.”
“Tomorrow, have brunch with me and your father, we have a lot to discuss.” Mother turned back to Matty and the boys. “It was nice to meet you, Matthew.”
As Mother walked away, I knew that I was in all sorts of trouble for brunch tomorrow.