The Making of Matt (6 page)

“Or I could stay at your place?” I suggested to Matt before turning to Sawyer and Jake. “I’m sure you guys have, um,
celebrating
to do.”

“Holy shit.” Matt sighed and palmed his forehead. “I missed it. Guys I’m so sorry.”

“Matt, you have
nothing
to apologize for,” Jake assured.

Matt smiled weakly and glanced down at Sawyer’s hand. “I’m guessing the ring on your finger means you agreed to sign your life away, huh?”

“I never thought of it that way.” Sawyer chuckled. “Too late to back out?”

“Not a chance, mister,” Jake said, reaching out and placing a firm hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “You’re stuck with me I’m afraid.”

“Well congrats, guys. I’m so totally fucking proud of you both.”

Silence followed as we all sipped the coffees Jake had made. Matt appeared to be waning. The tears had dried, leaving puffy red eyes in their wake and his movements were growing weaker by the minute. My own encounter with losing someone told me Matt would be most comfortable in his own home, surrounded by familiar things, right now. I imagined he’d want to inhale the scent of his own pillow as it soaked up the tears that would likely fall throughout the night, and I knew the last thing he’d need was to wake up in someone else’s house and feel the need to put on a brave face.

So, after draining my coffee cup, I made short work of driving Matt home. He remained a little unsteady on his feet and I supported him by keeping an arm around his waist while he sluggishly tackled the stairs to his bedroom. When he reached the bed he flopped straight down, fully clothed, onto the mattress before kicking his sneakers off onto the floor. Once he was settled, I went to the en-suite bathroom and grabbed some aspirin from the mirrored cabinet and a glass of water for him. When he saw me return he groaned at the idea of having to swallow anymore liquid, but like earlier in the evening, I forced the glass into his hand. Propping himself up on one elbow, he plucked the pills from my hand and, after sighing, glugged them down with a generous swig of water.

“It won’t always hurt this much,” I said quietly, setting the half-empty glass on the nightstand, but I’d already lost him to sleep. Bending forward, I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and my own tears found their opportunity to escape. “G’night, buddy.”

**********

When the day of Mrs. Carter’s funeral arrived, I hoped this would be the first day of Matt learning to move forward without his mom. When anyone you love passes away, the days between their death and the funeral are always the most difficult. You’re living in limbo – reeling from the loss yet having to wait to say the official goodbye that allows you to start healing. It brought back memories that still haunted my dreams some nights, pain that I’d often considered sharing with Matt but always decided it was better off staying buried. It didn’t hurt as much that way.

After securing the knot in my black tie, I went in search of Matt. I’d been staying with him since the night of the engagement party and every single day, seeing him so vulnerable, made my heart break afresh. This week I’d witnessed a whole new side to my best friend. I always knew he had a gentle heart hidden beneath his arrogance but I didn’t know until now just how fragile it was, too.

I eventually found him in his music room, pounding his grief into the drums. The volume startled my ears as I broke the soundproof barrier by opening the padded door, causing me to stumble, but he didn’t see me right away. For a moment I just watched him, my eyes honing in on the pain flooding his beautiful face. The beat was powerful, his skills leaving my mouth agape in awe. If I closed my eyes I could’ve been at a sold-out concert anywhere in the world, listening to one of this decade’s most talented musicians. Only if you were able to be this close, to be able to look right into his eyes, his soul, would you realize how broken he was right now.

Matt’s eyes locked onto mine as he caught me standing in the doorway and with a flex of his wrists he tossed his drumsticks up into the air, catching them again with one hand.

“People will be arriving soon,” I told him. “Are you ready?”

“No,” he admitted, setting his drumsticks down and standing from his stool. “But let’s get this shit over with.”

Only a handful of close friends and Matt’s family - Ashley and Adam - were coming here and travelling in the processional cars with us. The church service was strictly invite only, but judging the security cameras which surrounded Matt’s condo, that didn’t seem to stop the entire world thinking they were welcome. The monitors showed a herd of photographers camping outside the perimeter of the property, scurrying around like vermin, eager to catch a glimpse of a man about to bury his mother.

But this was his life. It was too easy to forget that Matt was a celebrity sometimes. I could barely remember the Matt I used to ‘know’. The rockstar I would see plastered on the front pages of glossy magazines, the womanizer that flooded the gossip sites or the wayward, drunken, media magnet with women drooling at his feet that Ryder introduced me to.

Now? He was just Matt. A regular guy. My friend.

That being said, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments when I wondered what the hell was I doing there. Just standing in Matt’s gigantic kitchen, palms resting on the mahogany island, the extravagance would sometimes smack me square in the face. Money and luxury surrounded Matt wherever he went and in everything he did, which by default meant it often surrounded me too.

I never allowed myself to think of this fortunate lifestyle as my own, of course. I still dug deep into my pockets to find enough loose change to buy a carton of milk, yet it did scare me how used to it all I was becoming. Not least because of how comfortable I felt driving around in a Jag that probably cost more than my apartment. I’d done nothing to earn any of it, so I refused to believe I belonged in this world.

I forced myself to forget my qualms when Matt walked listlessly into the room. Right now I was here for my friend, not the superstar. I could hardly imagine how hard the day would be for him. I loved my parents, of course, but they lived in Wisconsin and we had a more Christmas and birthdays kind of relationship – not nearly as close as Matt was to his mom.

“How’re you holding up?” I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged gently beneath my touch and when I looked him in the eyes I saw the precarious tears teetering on the edge.

A simple touch no longer seemed enough so I shifted closer until my body was aligned with his. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to encase his tall body in my arms and squeeze him so tightly I could feel his racing heart beat against my own.

“Thank you,” Matt muttered, gripping firmly onto the back of my suit jacket. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. I don’t know how you’ve put up with my whiney ass all week.”

“Because I love you.” Matt’s back stiffened in my arms before he backed away completely, clearing his throat. “You’re my best friend,” I added, because his reaction made me feel like I’d made him uncomfortable. The air became thick with awkwardness and I turned away from him, sticking my head in the fridge and pretending to look for the bottle of orange juice that was right in front of my face.

After a long, silent conversation with myself I decided I was reading way too much into things. Matt knew I loved him. I’d told him before, I was sure. I’d always been open about my feelings, it’s just the kind of guy I was, and it’d never bothered him before this morning.

Drop it. He’s grieving for Christ’s sake.
I mentally scolded myself and it worked. I was being ridiculous, and selfish given the significance of the day. Even so, I felt a shower of relief rain down on me when Sawyer and Jake arrived, absorbing some of the tension that I may or may not have been imagining.

“Neil’s outside trying to get rid of some of the photographers,” Sawyer announced after giving Matt a solid hug. “I’ve hired extra security, too. They’re on their way. When they get here we’ll leave for the church.”

“Is it really that bad?” Matt asked, fiddling with his cufflinks. Putting the imaginary atmosphere between us aside, I stepped in and fastened them for him.

“It’s a fucking circus out there,” Sawyer explained, disgust dripping from his voice. “Fucking parasites.”

“The press don’t bother me,” Matt said, shrugging. “It’s what we signed up for.”

He made a valid point, but I still thought they should let him live such a difficult and emotional day in private. Sure, he owed his success to the public and the media, and he thanked them for that every time he left the house. I’d never known Matt turn away a fan requesting an autograph or a photographer wanting a quick exclusive. They made him who he was today and he knew that better than anyone, which is how I couldn’t fathom why the jackholes wouldn’t show him the same courtesy and let him grieve in peace.

Like Sawyer said, a full team of security guards arrived after twenty minutes or so. The scene was surreal as we made our way out to the waiting cars. At one point it felt like I was an extra in a
Men in Black
movie, just waiting for Will Smith to jump out on me at any moment. As a general rule, Matt lapped up the attention he’d receive when out in public. He truly was born to be famous. He shone in a crowd, reveled in the sound of his name being chanted. Not today, of course. Today he walked briskly with his head down, taking cover behind one of the bodyguards who had more muscles than the ocean.

Me? I hated the attention at all times. Like seriously fucking despised it. Having people I’d never set eyes on before approach me, toss my name about and try and talk to me like they
knew
me made me uncomfortable. I was in no way unsociable, I just preferred to meet people for myself rather than them shoving themselves right up in my face. Suddenly, because people knew my name, they thought it acceptable to touch me, hug me, stand so close while talking to me I was considering wearing a condom full time to protect myself against accidental penetration.

“That was Neil,” Sawyer said, lowering the phone from his ear and interrupting my internal rant. “Time to go, guys.”

Matt was already in the back of the car and I climbed in next to him. Before the driver brought the engine to life, we sat in such deep silence I could almost hear his heart sink into his stomach.

“We’re all here for you, buddy,” I said, laying a reassuring hand on his knee and squeezing lightly.

Nodding weakly, he forced a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks.”

**********

Matt sighed heavily, bracing himself on the back of the door after watching the last guest drive away. We were back at his condo after what I imagined to be the longest day of his life.

“It was a beautiful service,” I said, loosening my tie as I relaxed back onto the couch.

“It was a funeral,” Matt snapped. “Boring and depressing.”

“I’m sorry.” Sorry for my dumbass comment, sorry he’d lost his mom, sorry I couldn’t take his pain away.

“No, no.” Matt shook his head. “
I’m
sorry. It’s been a long day. I shouldn’t have snapped. Truth is, today would’ve been impossible without you.”

I offered a small, understanding smile before nodding when Matt held up a bottle of vodka he’d just removed from the liquor cabinet. He meandered toward me, taking a swig of the emotion numbing liquid straight from the bottle before passing it to me.

“What are we? Fifteen?” I joked before pulling a generous sip.

“Exhausted, that’s what we are.” Sighing in agreement, I took another gulp before handing the bottle back to Matt, who was now sitting next to me. “Thank you for everything today. Especially for mingling on my behalf.”

“I said I was here for you and I meant it. Although, you do owe me for forcing me to talk to Adam. The way he looked at me…”

Matt grinned like he knew exactly what I was talking about. “Like you disgusted him?”

“Pretty much. Let me guess, homophobe, right?”

“He’s a fucking everything-phobe. If you don’t live your life exactly the way he does, you’re destined to burn in hell. I don’t know how Ashley doesn’t see it. We used to be so similar.”

“That’s probably for the best. One version of you is about all the world can handle.”

“Screw you.” Matt laughed, his first genuine one of the day as he tugged on the cushion wedged behind his back. I knew from the mischievous spark in his blue eyes he planned to use it as a weapon, so I jerked back, accidentally throwing him off balance and causing him to drop the vodka bottle.

It ricocheted off the edge of the coffee table before shattering into pieces and raining onto the floor. “Shit,” I muttered. “Sorry.”

We both bent down to clean up the mess at the same time, bumping heads on the way.

Matt rubbed at his forehead. “Holy fuck, I think you cracked my skull!”

“Dramatic much?” Snickering, I started to pick up the shards of glass, collecting them in the palm of my free hand. “Shit!” I dragged in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, wincing at the sting of the fresh cut on my finger.

Concern clouding his eyes, Matt reached out to take my hand but I snatched it away. “You’re bleeding,” he noted. “Let me take a look at it.”