#museband

As you cleaned your guitar, you felt a sense of peace, almost as if you were reconnecting with your essence. Music had always been your refuge, and this particular instrument carried so many memories of shows, rehearsals, and solitary moments of inspiration. The bright red of the guitar reflected the soft lights of the room, and you allowed yourself a brief smile as you admired its shine.

Then, your phone buzzed beside you. The message was from Dominic Howard, your best friend and the drummer of Muse. Concern jumped from the words he sent you.

“Hey, are you okay? I need to talk to you urgently. It’s about Matt.”

Matthew Bellamy, the band’s vocalist and also your close friend, had always been a complex soul, with the brilliant mind of a musical genius and the sensitive heart of someone who feels everything deeply. Reading the message made your heart race.

“What happened to him?” you replied, already feeling a mix of anguish and worry.

Dominic’s response was quick and straightforward: “He’s really not well. His girlfriend broke up with him, and he found out she was cheating. He’s devastated, doesn’t want to talk to anyone. You need to go see him. He needs you.”

Your breath hitched as you read that. How could someone hurt Matt like this? He, who was so amazing, deserved so much more. Then came that thought you had always kept buried in the back of your mind: you loved him. You loved Matt in a way you never had the courage to admit, fearing that it might ruin the special friendship you had.

“Where is he?” you typed, already gathering your things, ready to rush to him.

“At his house. Chris and I are here, but he doesn’t want to see us. Maybe he’ll talk to you. Please, come quickly.”

“I’m on my way,” you replied, stepping out the door.

As you drove to Matt’s house, your mind raced as fast as the car. He had always been a rock for you, but now he was crumbling, and all you wanted was to be there for him, to be the light he had always been for you.

When you arrived, you spotted Chris’s car parked in front. As soon as you got out, he came to meet you, wrapping you in a quick hug.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said, and you noticed the fatigue in his voice.

“How is he?” you asked, anxiety growing with every second.

“Not so good. He doesn’t want to leave his room or talk to us. Dom is in there now, but I think only you can help him.”

You nodded and followed Chris down the hallway leading to Matt’s room. From a distance, you could already see Dom standing by the door, trying, in vain, to convince Matt to open up and talk.

“Matt, please… we’re here for you. We’re your friends,” Dom said, concern evident in his voice. When he saw you, he let out a small sigh of relief and stepped away from the door.

“Maybe he’ll talk to you,” he said, giving you space to try.

You took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open. The room was shrouded in darkness; the only light came from the weak glow filtering through the window cracks. In the middle of the bed, curled up in a fetal position, was Matt, wearing the same clothes from the show the night before. The contrast between the confident, brilliant man on stage and the vulnerable figure before you was almost unbearable.

“Matt?” you called softly, your voice a whisper in the silence.

Slowly, he lifted his head, his red, swollen eyes meeting yours. Before you could say anything else, he got up and enveloped you in a tight hug, as if you were his only anchor in the world.

“I knew you’d come,” he said, sobbing, his voice choked.

“I’ll always be here for you, Matt. You know that,” you replied, stroking his hair, feeling his pain as if it were your own.

You stayed like that for a while, him crying in your arms as you tried to convey all the calm and strength he needed. Gradually, his sobbing subsided, and his breathing began to calm down. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice still hoarse but more controlled.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m your friend, and I care about you,” you responded with a gentle smile, trying to reassure him.

“You’re more than a friend,” he said, and his eyes held an intensity that took your breath away. “You’re the only person who really understands me.”

Your heart raced at those words. Did he know? Did he feel the same?

“I understand you, Matt. I know how special you are,” you said, not knowing what else to say.

He sighed and looked down. “I loved her, you know? I did everything for her, and still… she cheated on me. I don’t understand... what did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Matt. She was the one in the wrong. She didn’t know how to appreciate the amazing man you are. You have immense talent, a huge heart, and she lost the best person she could have had.”

He looked at you with a small smile, the first one you’d seen on his face since you entered the room.

“Do you really think so?” he asked, as if searching for a bit of hope.

“I’m sure of it,” you replied, your voice firm.

Suddenly, he took your hand and squeezed it, his gaze deepening. “You’ve always been so good to me… always supporting me, making me smile. You’re my light at the end of the tunnel.”

Your heart raced at that, and before you could think, Matt leaned in closer until your foreheads were touching.

“I should be with you,” he murmured, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

You widened your eyes in surprise. “What?”

“I should be with you,” he repeated, now clearer. “I’ve always felt something for you, but I was afraid of ruining what we have. Now I see I was an idiot. You’re the right person for me. You’re the one I love.”

Before you could react, he kissed you. A sweet kiss, full of tenderness and love, which took you by surprise, but within seconds, you surrendered completely. It was the kiss you had always dreamed of, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I love you,” he whispered when the kiss finally ended.

“I love you too,” you replied, your heart overflowing with happiness.

Illustration inspirée de morceaux du groupe Muse (Space Dementia et City of Delusion)