#matthealyfanfic

[your-write-or-die-blog]

It had been a while since my last casting call. Looking around me now at the que of girls wearing 90’s style windbreakers, crisp new vans, and highlight on the tips of their noses, I felt as though I had been thrust into a world of Instagram models and I’d received an invite on accident. The open call was massive, for a pop band music video coming out in the summer. The line of girls snaked halfway around the Hollywood studio lot, adjacent one set comprised of six or seven fake houses that looked vaguely like something I’d seen on television. I squinted at them for a moment and racked my brains. Dexter, maybe? The girl in line behind me caught my eye and craned her neck in the same direction, eager energy exuding from her. I turned a little bit to smile at her, but couldn’t tell if she’d noticed behind her dark aviators. Maybe she was as nervous as I was. Maybe she was just so flat out gorgeous and cool that she didn’t think I was worth her acknowledgement. I knew from past experience how ruthless Hollywood was. Even though this was my fifth casting call this month, and even though I’d been working to put some weight off and had even gotten up early to do my hair, I began to feel more and more unprepared and out of place in my plain black jeans, doc martens and casual spaghetti strap top. I realized I hadn’t even taken time to read the email from the casting company. Convinced I wasn’t going to make any friends in line, I pulled it up on my smartphone. My stomach sank a bit. The company was looking for a “love interest” role, and warned that actors should be prepared for the audition to include “physical touch” and other possible “romantic gestures”. The coffee on my breath became brutally apparent and I considered ditching the audition entirely. How and why did I not stop to read the stupid email before driving here and freaking out over the lack of parking for almost an hour? My mind began to race. What if the lead singer was gross? “Romance” wasn’t exactly my forte either – I had never gone out for a “love interest” role. This is why I needed an agent. After a few deep breaths, I found a stick of gum in the bottom of my purse along with my resolve. I was already here and I needed the money, I thought. Waiting tables at the Mel’s on Sunset simply wasn’t cutting it, and if this band was as big as this massive turn out led me to believe, I knew it would mean a nice chunk of cash if I somehow landed the part. Plus, music was a huge part of my life – I’d been writing songs on piano since I was 12. To help make someone’s music come to life on screen would be an absolute pleasure of mine… I just hoped their music was good. The sun began to set and the temperature dropped a bit, a refreshing and welcomed change that seemed to help calm my nerves. To help pass the time I put on my headphones and cranked up my favorite 80’s music: Depeche Mode, Oingo Boingo and Fleetwood Mac. Before too long I found my way to the front of the line. The clipboard lady gestured for me to pause as she held her ear to a mess of static through her walkie. She eyed me and my plain face and smiled patiently, then sighed and shook her head. “I’ve got no clue what he just said,” she admitted. “You’re adorable honey, you’re gonna do great,” she said as she checked my ID’s. She looked like she’d been on her feet for hours now, but the sentiment seemed genuine and I smiled back appreciatively. She handed me a ticket. “You’re number 412,” she said, “don’t lose that ticket.” My stomach sank again. 412, I thought. There’s no way I’m getting this part. The next clipboard-person was a tall gay man, head bald as a bowling ball. He singled me out as I walked by and asked if I had my portfolio. I handed it over and he flipped through it, looked at me somewhat indifferently and then directed me to a room off to the left. My palms were sweating. What if I didn’t fit the part and this was the end? The situation became more and more real. I jumped when he began instructing us, not realizing that he had followed along behind me. “Okay, ladies, watch your step - NICE shoes, file in loves, careful now” he said in a thick British accent, ushering myself and a few other girls into a dark, cool room.  The entrance to this stage had a little sitting area – I found a seat and stuck my hands between my legs, praying that they dry before something important started happening. I looked up – the ceiling was very high like a warehouse, the lights along it stark and expensive-looking. To break the silence I leaned over to the girl on my left, who had waist length blonde hair that looked incredible with her yellow corduroy miniskirt: “With the lights and stuff, it’s sort of like Costco in here, isn’t it?” She looked back at me confused and I decided I wasn’t going to speak anymore. The first part of the audition was more of a group interview – the bald clipboard guy picked me out with three other girls and I felt a surge of relief. I’d experienced auditions like this before – it was a great way for casting to get through more people more quickly. This casting team in particular thankfully seemed a lot friendlier than most I’d encountered, casual even. They only asked us our names and to tell them about ourselves – the blonde girl laid it on thick, charisma oozing out of every hand motion and inflection. The second girl seemed almost disinterested, explaining that she went to school in the area and that her friend had told her to come. Finally, they got around to me. A kind-eyed but important looking woman dressed in linen asked what had inspired me to audition. “I love music and I love to create,” I answered easily. She straightened a little bit and asked me to talk a little more about that. I suddenly felt very honest. "Music is such an important part of my life...and of society, it allows us to communicate what could otherwise be lost in a boring old conversation. People talk too much, I think..." I trailed off and became very aware that everyone's eyes were fixed on me now. I felt like I had somehow answered... correctly? She nodded agreeably and motioned for me to go on. "Well I like to write my own songs and I perform open mics sometimes when I'm feeling brave," I continued, "It's hard for me to bear my soul like that...working with someone who is brave for a living would be incredible."  The woman looked up from her notes and leaned over the table, smiling ear to ear. "Anything else, darling?" This audition was suddenly much different than any I had gone to before. My ears were burning. I untucked my curls to cover them.  "No," I laughed. "I guess that's it." The three directors laughed along with me, which felt amazing. The woman in linens stood up suddenly and removed her glasses so that they hung down on her neck. "And," she started, raising her eyebrows, "what do you think of Matty Healy?" The atmosphere in the room shifted at the name. The director lady smirked knowingly as the girl next to me melted just a little bit into her boots. I realized they all knew something that I didn't. Before I could embarrass myself by asking who Matty Healy was, suddenly he was there.  "Did I hear my name?" He was holding a cup of coffee without a lid, a large plastic clip holding his dark curls away from his face, which was scrunched up into a cheesy grin that sent butterflies rippling through my stomach. To complete the actor-on-set look he wore a gray sort of bathrobe over his wardrobe, charmingly mismatched with a beautiful pair of shiny black shoes.  The girls on either side of me unabashedly began to squeal. The directors smiled patiently as he came over to greet us. I watched three girls fall in love with the same man at the same time. "We're taking five," he said in a beautiful accent, taking the blonde girl's hand and kissing it very lightly.  "God, it's cold in here when you're not dancing about like a lunatic, innit?" he murmured to the group of us, explaining the bathrobe. He was so adorable that I couldn't help but hold the back of my hand over my mouth. He caught the motion and looked over at me now.  "Hi," he said, nodding to me as our eyes met. His were warm even in the harsh warehouse lighting.  He introduced himself: "I'm Matthew." Embarrassment froze me for a moment. Oh God, I thought. How long had he been standing around that corner?  He had probably heard the whole audition. But those eyes were so reassuring. Despite not knowing his name a mere ten seconds ago, I felt immediately comfortable with him. "Hi," I replied quietly with a laugh, surprising myself by leaning in to politely hug him around the shoulders. Matty did not seem surprised as all; catching my arms for a moment and holding them there. He smelled like hair product and cigarettes.  "Thank you," he hummed warmly near my neck so that only I could hear. "I needed that today." He sounded sincere. When he pulled away, I was grinning like an idiot.  "Erm," he started, tearing his eyes from me. "This project is very important to me and I've very grateful to you all for coming out and being a part of it. We're having a bit of a party for the next part of the audition so I hope to see you girls there," he smiled again and waved sweetly to everyone, murmuring something quickly to the director before shuffling back around the corner.  I continued desperately to try and calm the redness in my face as the rest of the models openly fan-girled to one another, glancing over at me with a mix of delight and envy.  "Okay, ladies," the woman with the glasses chuckled, waiting for us to settle. "Like Matt said, this next part of the audition we're going to have a sort of mock-shoot just to test if you're compatible - " The bald man threw his hands up in exasperation. "Nora means we want to see some chemistry, duh." Nora rolled her eyes good-naturedly as we all turned to "ooh" at each other, "right, exactly, so there's going to be some dancing involved, we're going to play a little clip of music and we just want to see you interact with Matty and have a good time. As specified in the email if you're not comfortable with this we thank you for coming out anyway. Go ahead and have a seat in the waiting area and we'll come grab you when we're ready for you, there should be water and snacks in a couple minutes." Out of 412 girls auditioning, the waiting area only had a couple dozen. The vibe was different from before, the ice had been broken and all the models chatted excitedly, sipping water, munching grapes and crackers. Not all of them had been there to meet Matty, and they teemed up around me after hearing that we'd had a little moment. Thirty minutes went by and only one girl had been asked to the set. Nora popped in and my heart sank. An extra-cautious layer of professionalism coated her voice this time.  "Hello ladies, just a reminder that we had a massive turn out today and unfortunately we can only consider a few of you. We really are grateful to you for showing up but Matty and the team are looking for someone pretty," she paused, "specific ... when it comes to this video in particular and we are doing our best today. Thanks again for your patience." She smiled dryly and dipped out, hateful eyes amounting on her back. I swallowed dryly.  Another ten minutes went by and two models had already given up, packing up their things with heels clack-clacking through the stage door. The quintessential Hollywood phrase was "hurry up and wait", but forty minutes had never felt quite so long to me. Finally, Nora reappeared and pointed at me with that knowing smile. It was only then that I realized I'd been holding my breath - I sighed out in relief and hurriedly grabbed my jacket, ignoring the stares behind me.  While it was small, the set was much less "mock" than I anticipated: full lights and camera surrounding a simple white backdrop where a crew member sat in behind the drum set. A few other crew members were buzzing about, setting marks with tape on the floor, discussing angles, scrutinizing their notes. Matty sat on a director's chair behind the mic stand without his bathrobe this time, legs crossed. Before I could catch his eye I had a round brush in my face.  "Just a little shiny there," the makeup artist said to me, motioning my chin up to her. "God, you've got great skin... how old are you?"  I stumbled over my words, still getting my bearings. She waved in a "never-mind" motion. "You're over 18 though, right?" I nodded carefully as she dabbed rouge along my cheekbones with her ring finger. "There... just so these lights don't wash you out too much." She smiled and gave the hair around my face a couple twists and a spray. "Beautiful. Good luck!" Someone clapped their hands a couple times to get everyone's attention. "Alright, welcome Miss..?" I squinted past the lights and called out my name to who I assumed was the video director.  "Very nice, hi, yes," he sighed in the exasperated sort of way that directors do, "Okay! So - we're going to play some music and have you sort of perform with Matty here - dance, flirt, pull his hair, whatever you want, ok? Are you ready?" I nodded and a surge of confidence shot through me as Matty looked up with that smile, scooting the chair out of the shot and putting his hand on my shoulder as if we'd known each other for years.  "I do hope you don't pull my hair," he joked, "it took an awful long time to fix."  "I mean it's your video, Healy," I shrugged. My God, I thought. What a face.  The audition had already started and I didn't even realize. The audio was much less professional, a boom box off to the side started playing a song that I immediately recognized from the radio and I realized that the man who had decided just now to dip me was probably worth millions. I recovered from the dip and followed his lead as he whipped the mic around and began sort of half-singing, half mouthing along to the lyrics. Although the mic was off, up this close I could tell that his voice was absolutely lovely.  As he made his way behind the stand-in drummer he eyed me, still gauging. I took half a second to collect myself and followed the vibe of the song, deciding the sort of alt rock guitar riffs called for some hair shaking and punk-posing.  He took my hand and spun me into him as he propped one shiny shoe up onto one of the toms. I slid my hands along his shoulders and came up behind him; making eyes at camera 3 as he sang directly to it. Before the verse was over, I decided i couldn't help myself: I tugged his curls lightly and he sang the remainder of the verse directly to my face before making some sort of explosion noise and racing around me to get back to the mic stand for the guitar solo.  I was in awe of him. Once we made it back to the front I felt him switch to full-on performance mode, trusting that I could keep up with him now. And I could. Before long I realized we had gone through almost the entire song like this and the director looked significantly less bored than he did when I first walked in. The music stopped and the crew applauded us.  Matty tucked me under his arm and whisked us away from the lights for a moment. I was still catching my breath, yet he had barely broke a sweat. "That was, you were -!" "That was so fun!" I finished for him. He laughed and my heart melted.  "Really though, like -" He had the cutest way of tripping over his words. "Ugh," he gave up, hugging me instead. His face was so close to mine I felt his breath.  "And I heard what you said earlier in the group about music and, and erm - that was you right?" I nodded and he lit up like a little kid for a second. Seeing him happy like this was well worth the impossible parking, the waiting and the hours of nerves. He went on: "So, right, listen - I think we're doing a couple quick little callbacks but, dude." Matty Healy had just called me dude.  He fumbled in his trouser pockets for something and then motioned for me to wait, jogging over to behind the set. The crew members were all in a bunch now, reviewing the footage and speaking excitedly. When he returned he handed me a pen and a scrap of paper. "I've lost my - bleeding - phone again but please, would you write your number for me?"

to be continued