♥︎ ✯ ☘︎︎

𝟏𝟖 ... 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲

☘︎︎ ✯ ♥︎

matt 🍁

I haven't seen Callie since our date and it's driving me insane. It's only been a day and a half, but it feels longer. She says she's sick, quarantined in another hotel room, and asked us to give her space—but I can't stop worrying. I would risk getting sick if it meant I could be with her.

Everyone's been on edge without Callie being around. We all know that Bryn is our peacemaker, but I didn't realize the presence that Callie has in our group until she was gone. Nick's surprisingly angrier, since he has no one to riff off of when trash-talking people. Bryn is quieter than normal, and Madi's been strangely jumpy. Nate is just plain miserable, and even Chris is moping around. He would never admit it, but I think he sees Callie like a little sister. He loves making fun of her more than anything, and it's bumming him out to not have her around.

As for me, I've been short-tempered, my patience is non-existent, and I can't focus on anything. All I can think about is Callie sick and alone.

Chris and I are currently in our dressing room at the venue, silently scrolling through our phones. We had been helping get stuff ready, but Nick sent us away after we started fighting.

The silence of the room is broken by the door creaking open. Ariana pokes her head in, her smile warm as she tucks her curled hair behind her ear. "Hey, guys."

"Hey," I greet her, looking up from my phone. "What's up?"

Chris offers her a nod in greeting, but he quickly returns to looking at his phone.

Ariana glances at Chris before looking back at me. "Matt, do you think I could talk to you for a minute?"

Chris glances at me and raises his eyebrows, but he rises from the couch and wordlessly ducks past Ariana. She closes the door behind him, and the silence of the dressing room suddenly grows heavy.

I've been avoiding Ariana since I finally apologized to Callie and told her how I feel. I've never had any feelings for Ariana, but although she's a friend, I know how Callie feels about her. So I stayed away.

"How are you?" Ariana grins at me as she carefully sits on the couch beside me, her expensive floral perfume wafting over me. "I haven't seen you much the last couple days."

"Yeah, it's been busy," I answer vaguely. "Who did your hair and makeup for tonight's show? I assume Callie didn't."

"No, the poor girl's still sick." Ariana pouts, but I sense she's not as empathetic of Callie being out of the picture as she seems. "My manager's assistant did it. Not as good as Callie's work, but it'll do."

I hum in acknowledgement, suddenly feeling awkward. "Listen, I should probably go find my brothers. Did you need something?"

Ariana stands when I do, her eyes scanning my face. "Matt, is everything okay?"

I nod immediately, securing a smile on my face to appease her. "Yup, everything's fine."

"Okay," Ariana says hesitantly, still scanning my face. "Listen, there's something I want to talk to you about."

I take half a step toward the door. "Can we talk later? I think it's almost time for the meet and greet. I'll find you after the show, okay?"

As I turn away, Ariana's dainty fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling me back to face her. "Matt, come on. Don't run away. I'm trying to tell you I like you."

I freeze, unaware of anything but Ariana's cold hand on my skin. She is staring hopefully at me, a light smile on her face. She seems confident that I'll give her the answer she's hoping for.

I carefully loosen Ariana's fingers from my wrist and shift slightly away from her. "Ariana, I really appreciate that, I do, but I don't feel the same way. I'm sorry."

Ariana's brow furrows in confusion. Not pain or sadness, but confusion. "Really? Why?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I don't think it matters, but I'm involved with someone else."

Ariana's expression of confusion narrows into something less innocent. "Callie."

I hesitate for a second before nodding.

Ariana scoffs, something I've never seen her do. She's always so poised and elegant. "Of course. I shouldn't even be surprised."

I take another step toward the door, eager to escape the tension that has crept into the room. "I'm sorry, Ariana."

She speaks again as my hand makes contact with the door handle. "I just have one question: why her? You could have anyone, Matt."

My hand stills on the door handle, but I don't look back. "There's no one I would rather fight with."

I slip out of the dressing room and leave the door open behind me as I head down the hallway. My stomach is twisted into knots from the uncomfortable conversation, but my heart feels light. There's no one I would rather fight with. Screw staying away. Callie can yell at me for risking getting sick once she's better. She shouldn't be alone right now.

Bryn meets me at the end of the hallway, her face twisted with worry. "Have you seen Callie?"

"Isn't she still at the hotel?" I frown, concerned by the look on Bryn's face. "Bryn, what's wrong?"

"I decided enough was enough and I wanted to be there for Callie." Bryn tugs on the end of her hair, a deep sigh rising in her chest. "But when I went to the front desk to ask for her new room number, they said they don't have any guests under her name. So I checked her location, and she hasn't been active for two days. Matt, I think she's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" My voice rises with my pulse, my eyes blowing wide. "Bryn, what do you mean gone?"

"I don't know," Bryn whispers, her voice trembling. "Matt, I don't know what to do. She's not answering my texts or calls anymore."

I exhale a whoosh of air. "Fuck. Okay. Go get everyone and meet me in the lounge in five minutes."

"What are you going to do?" Bryn frowns, not understanding. "The show starts soon, Matt."

"I know. Just go." I gently push Bryn down the hallway before I spin around in the opposite direction toward the exit of the venue.

As I walk toward where our tour bus is parked, I text Callie, telling her she better answer the phone when I call. I grip my phone so tightly it feels like it might shatter. Calling might push her further away—but doing nothing? That's worse. I press the button, barely breathing until she answers.

"Hey," she says softly, her voice hoarse. I can hear cars rushing past in the background, confirming what I already knew to be true: she's not here anymore.

"Callie, what's going on?" I put my phone on speaker since the bus is void of people and place it on the edge of my bunk. My duffel bag is spilt over my bed, and I quickly start tossing clothes back inside. Wherever Callie went, I'm going too.

Callie is quiet for a moment before she sighs, and when she speaks, I hear the tears in her voice. "My mom's been lying to me my whole life," she whispers, her words trembling. "My dad isn't actually my dad. My biological dad lives in England."

My heart sinks to my feet, a stabbing pain hitting me in the middle of my chest. I don't even know how to respond to that. Callie just had her whole life ripped out beneath her feet. How does a person deal with that? "You're in England, aren't you?"

"I'm outside his house right now," Callie admits after a long silence, her voice cracking. "I found his address online. I don't know what I'm doing, Matt."

"I'm outside his house," she whispers after a long silence, her voice cracking. "I don't know what I'm doing, Matt."

My heart twists and I inhale sharply, pausing my rapid packing. "You don't have to know what you're doing. You don't have to do this alone, Callie. Let me be there for you. You said you'd give me a chance, right? Let me come meet you."

Callie is silent for a moment, then she sighs. "Okay."

That simple word is all I need to know that Callie is at her end. She never agrees to anything without a fight, especially something like this.

"But please don't tell the others what's going on," Callie pleads, her voice desperate. "Just tell them I have a distant relative in England who suddenly fell sick of something, I don't know. Bryn will freak out if she knows the whole story, and I can't... I don't know, Matt, I just..."

"I get it," I say softly, swinging my duffel over my shoulder as I dismount the bus and jog back toward the venue. "I'll come up with something. And then I'll be on my way, okay?"

"Okay." Callie sighs again, but this time, it sounds like she's letting go of something. I hope it's the idea that she has to go through this alone. "Thanks, Matt."

"Of course," I murmur, my head going fuzzy at the sound of Callie's soft voice. "I'll let you know when I'll be there, okay? Let me know where you'll be."

Callie agrees softly before saying goodbye, and the call ends with a weighty silence. I'm left staring at my phone, uncertain if she'll actually go through with meeting her biological father. But that's not what matters right now. What matters is reaching her. I let out a sharp breath, fully aware of the chaos this might cause with the show—but none of it compares to Callie. If she needs me, I'm going.

When I burst into the small lounge room of the venue, my friends are all there. Bryn's the first to speak, her eyes wide with panic and her arms crossed over her chest. "Matt, what's going on?"

Chris immediately narrows his eyes at me from where he's standing beside Bryn. "Why do you have your duffel bag?" His voice is edged with suspicion.

"Callie's in England," I blurt out, my mind racing as I try to figure out how to explain this without making everything worse. "She has a distant relative who suddenly got really sick. She didn't want anyone to worry, so she didn't tell anyone. She thought she'd be back in time for the show, but things got worse. I convinced her to let me go to her, to help. I'm leaving right now."

"Right now?" Nick exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Matt, our meet and greet starts in twenty minutes. You can't leave."

Chris steps forward, frustration sharp in his voice. "You've already missed one show, you can't miss another!"

Bryn, however, looks less angry and more concerned, her eyes flicking between me and the door. "Matt, this doesn't make sense." She steps closer, her voice low and tight with worry. "Is it really a distant relative? Is her mom okay?"

Madi and Nate glance at each other nervously before slipping out of the room, not wanting to get caught in a brewing storm.

The room feels like it's closing in on me, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. "I know, and I feel terrible leaving, but I can't just stay here while she's out there alone," I say, my voice rising with frustration. "I have to go. I have to be there for her."

Nick shakes his head. "You're not thinking straight. You've got an obligation here, Matt. You can't just bail on us like this."

"I know, Nick, but what am I supposed to do?!" I snap, my anxiety over Callie and disappointing my brothers boiling over. "Callie needs me, and I can't turn my back on her, Nick."

Chris steps forward, his voice low, a shimmer of hurt under the surface. "What about us, Matt? What about the show?"

"I get it," I shoot back, my chest tight from the weight of everything. "But if I stay here while Callie's falling apart, I won't be able to focus on anything. She's more important right now."

Bryn takes a step closer, her face softening with concern. "Matt, I could go instead. Nate and Madi could come. And you guys can meet us in London tomorrow, as planned."

I meet Bryn's gaze, her soft eyes helping settle the fluttering nerves in my stomach. "I have to go, Bryn. I promised her."

Bryn nods, understanding immediately the words I'm not saying. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? Callie's always been so closed off. You don't know how much this is affecting her. You can't fix everything by just showing up."

I meet her gaze, my chest tightening. "I know. But I have to try. I can't let her go through this alone."

"So you're really just leaving?" Chris asks quietly, his face sheltered.

I nod silently.

Nick huffs in disbelief and stomps over to me. "For the record, I hate you." He wraps his arms around me in a quick hug before scurrying away and disappearing down the hall.

Chris follows suit, tugging me into a sturdy hug. "Be careful, okay?" he mumbles, quietly enough so Bryn can't hear him. "With everything."

Be careful of Callie. Don't let her hurt you.

I hug my brother back, relishing in his familiar comfort. "I'll see you soon."

Chris claps my shoulder and steps back so Bryn can hug me. Her eyes are teary, and I can't help but chuckle as I wrap my arms around her shoulders. "Mabel, it'll be okay."

"I know," she sniffles, squeezing my waist before shuffling away from me and under Chris' arm instead. "I'm just worried about Callie. Take care of her, okay?"

I smile softly and ruffle Bryn's hair. "I will. Get a win for Team Blue tonight, yeah?"

Bryn laughs, a singular tear slipping down her cheek as she cuddles into Chris' side. "I will."

"You're sure about this?" Chris asks quietly, tightening his arm around Bryn's shoulders.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before refocusing on my brother and honourary sister. "I'm sure. I have to go. And I have to go right now."

🍁

The next hour passes in a blur. I jump into an Uber heading for the Amsterdam airport, my mind racing as I clutch my duffel bag. At the airport, I'm hit by a wall of noise—PA announcements blending with the chatter of travellers and the hum of rolling suitcases. I buy a one-way ticket to London, risking the close turnaround time.

Security feels endless, every beep of the scanner ratcheting up my nerves. By the time I sprint to the gate, I'm panting and lightheaded, with just ten minutes to spare. I spot a group of teenage girls in matching tracksuits clustered near the seating area. They glance at me, and my stomach twists. Having to interact with fans right now would be disastrous.

Without thinking, I veer into the bathroom, ducking into the nearest stall and locking the door behind me. It isn't until I'm safely alone that I realize my pulse is racing and my hands are trembling. I draw a shaky breath and lean against the wall, trying to quiet my heaving breaths.

The bathroom isn't busy, but a few men chat as they wash their hands, and footsteps tap against the floor. The overhead lights are beaming with fluorescent light, bright enough to give me a headache.

Everything feels like too much. The slightly flickering lights, the sound of toilets flushing and people talking, the distant noise of announcements being made over the airport speakers. Even the smell of air freshener is overwhelming.

My duffel bag slips from my shoulder and clunks against the floor beside me and I sink into a crouch, my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Waves of nerves roll through my stomach, and a sharp metallic tang fills my mouth as my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

Callie is hurting. Bryn is scared. Chris and Nick are angry with me. And I let all our fans down, again. Can I do anything right anymore?

With trembling hands, I pull my phone from my pocket and call the one person who I know won't be disappointed in me.

"Hi, Matt," Mom's voice comes through the line, warm and sweet as always. "How's my favourite son?"

Despite my raging nerves, my lips curl up at Mom's words. "You say that to all of us."

"And you're all my favourites," Mom chuckles, the noise soft and warm. "Doesn't your show start soon?"

"I'm not going," I sigh, dragging my hand over my face. "Mom, I don't know what I'm doing. I can't think straight. I feel like I'm letting everyone down."

"What's going on, Matty?" Mom asks gently, a few scuffling noises accompanying her voice. I can vividly picture her sinking into our couch at home, patting the cushion beside her to invite Trevor to come cuddle.

"You know Bryn's friend Callie?"

"The one you're obsessed with?"

"Mom!" My jaw gapes, stunned by her words. I don't recall ever even mentioning Callie to Mom. "What?!"

Mom laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "I talk to Bryn on the phone every Tuesday and Friday, Matt. She tells me everything you boys don't." She pauses for a moment, but when I don't interject, she speaks again, her voice more delicate this time. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm going to meet her in England right now, which means I'm bailing on another show." My voice cracks, but I don't try to hide my vulnerability. Mom's seen me at my worst, yet she doesn't love me any less. "But Callie needs me, Mom. I just feel so torn. I've never been on a plane without Chris before. What am I doing?"

"You're growing up, sweetie," Mom says gently. "You're figuring out what matters to you as an individual, not just what is important to you boys as a group. You're being brave, Matt. I'm proud of you."

My eyes quickly fill with tears. Support from Mom feels like being cuddled under a warm blanket in front of the fireplace while snow falls from the sky outside. Nothing is better. "But what if I'm making a mistake? What if I make things worse?"

"Well, then you get to learn from those things. That's a part of growing up, kiddo. Bad things happen sometimes; it's inevitable. But we get to decide how we act in response to those things."

"Growing up is scary," I mumble, wiping away a stray tear.

Mom chuckles. "I know. But you're lucky, Matt. You're surrounded by people who love you and would do anything for you. From what Bryn's told me, Callie doesn't have many people like that. I admire you for being a person she can depend on. You know, there's a pretty popular Bible verse about being scared of growing up. Do you remember it?"

I rack my brain for the verse Mom could be talking about. Although I attended Sunday School as a child, I don't remember much of what I learned. "No, I don't."

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Mom's voice is smooth, reminding me of the days she would read to Chris, Nick, and me before bed. "I know you don't go to church anymore, but God is taking care of you, Matt. He has a plan for your life, a plan that is more wonderful than you could ever imagine. Everything will be okay, no matter what. I promise."

I draw in a deep breath, my heart slowing to a normal speed. "I miss you, Mom."

"I miss you too, sweetie. I'll see you in a couple weeks, okay? I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whisper, my heart aching. "Thanks for everything."

"Call if you need me again," Mom says sincerely, and I know she means it. "Good luck, Matty."

When the call ends, I stay crouched in the stall for another moment, clutching my phone. Mom's words echo in my mind: Everything will be okay, no matter what. My circumstances haven't changed, but everything feels different. I don't know if I believe in a God, but Mom does, and I trust her judgement. So if she says God is watching out for me, I believe her.

I glance at my duffel bag, sitting where I dropped it. My hand reaches for it automatically. I'm still scared—terrified, even—but I stand up anyway, slinging the strap over my shoulder.

You can do this, Matt.

I step out of the stall and walk toward the gate with my chin held high. Here I come, England.

cara's obsession ❀

^ me all day about studying tehe

guess who's going to a canucks game tomorrow 😎 my annual road trip across the border to get cheap american tickets LMAO. tickets near me are ridiculously expensive 😰

question of the day! if you were to label yourself as a fruit, which would it be and why? i think i would be maybe a strawberry because i can come in various flavours depending on when you get me lolll. and i'm pretty dependable, but if you drop me i will bruise easy LMAO

happy american thanksgiving! i hope you all have a lovely time with your families and no chaos occurs 🧡 see you soon 😋

🍉 🍉 🍉