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The sound of her voice snapped her back to reality, and she realized she was staring. Fuck.

“That’s, uh, great! Demon Days is hard to come by. But you already said that, didn’t you? Sorry. Okay. Uh…”

She turned back to Jo, who was much easier to talk to.

“So, how about that gig? What kind of music do you play?”

“Oh, well, we kinda just play various rock, mainly punk stuff. Like the White Stripes. It’s just Cass and i, Cass is on drums. We’re playing at a bar tonight, that’s usually all we can do.” Jo shrugged. “It’s getting there, though. I guess.”

“They’re a really great band, too… The Temporary Chokeholders.” Maya smiled. “I like to say i started it, because they were both complaining about how they wanted to do a band and i told them to start one together.”

All this stress from the new album, tense relations and constant anxiety left er extremely high-strung. She could use a couple drinks to loosen her up a bit. And it’d been a while since she’d gone out with D. This could be fun.

“Howard’s got one of those faces. I’m probably a little more… eccentric,” she joked. “Maya is cute. She almost reminds me of 2D himself.”

“I can see it,” Jo said. “Maya never thinks she’s cute, and i tell her all the time.” She brushed some hair out of her eyes. “Poor girl. Always been like that. Even before she tr-” She coughed a bit, forgetting not to out Maya. “Changed.” Shit, even if Noodle caught on, Noodle wouldn’t be the type, right? If she was, that’d be fucking ironic, one of Maya’s idols being transphobic. But Jo would be there for Maya, help her through the revelation, so it would all be fine in the end.

Maya came back to Jo and Noodle, carrying a vinyl of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by The Smashing Pumpkins. “Umm, i also found this, and i know it’s like, really rare to find nowadays, so…” She showed Jo the Demon Days vinyl. “Could i please get both…?”

“Sure thing. Anything for little sis.” Jo grinned.

The sound of her voice snapped her back to reality, and she realized she was staring. Fuck.

“That’s, uh, great! Demon Days is hard to come by. But you already said that, didn’t you? Sorry. Okay. Uh...”

She turned back to Jo, who was much easier to talk to.

They all followed this madman like things might change, but would they? Things never stayed nice for long. On one hand, it made them all very worldly, but on the other, it left scars and unhealing wounds. It was just how things were, but it’s the music that’s important, right? That’s how it always felt. And that wasn’t a bad thing to Stu because at this point he was sure it was all he was good for anyways, and he didn’t mind such a thing.

He was important. It felt nice to be wanted. And it was good to have friends, even if they were souless satanic bass players.

Silently, he obeys, wondering if they were going to have a talk or watch a movie or some such other mundane activity. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t mind it. Time with Noodle was good time, he had to cherish it, like making up for years lost.

She pulled her knees to her chest, sitting so that she took up as little space as possible. It was oddly comfortable; being all curled up like that.

“What, really?” Jo’s eyes widened. “Well, i mean, if you insist.” She turned to Maya. “Didn’t you wanna get a record or something?”

Maya looked up from her phone, saying in a quiet voice, “it’s like, a hundred bucks…”

Noodle crossed her arms, grinning as she watched the girl fumble for words. She almost reminded her of a younger 2D, what with the blue hair and all. It was… refreshing. And this Jo character wasn’t too bad herself. She appreciated the sarcasm.

Noodle crossed her arms, grinning as she watched the girl fumble for words. She almost reminded her of a younger 2D, what with the blue hair and all. It was… refreshing. And this Jo character wasn’t too bad herself. She appreciated the sarcasm.

Murdoc Niccals of Gorillaz singing Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie need I say more

“I wouldn’t change it, I don’t fink. ‘m not good at nufink else. ‘n I like music. ‘n I like you guys. So I want t’ do it for us, all of us, even Murdoc. I know ‘e ain’t perfect, not even close but…’e’s still me friend.” How, only god knew, because Murdoc was more rotten to 2D than anyone else on the planet.

Noodle wondered for a moment if she could still call him that. Sure, she respected his musical talent, and she could tolerate his personality. But a friendship? No. At least, not any more. 

And yet... here she was, following the bastard around like a lost puppy. He sent her through hell, but was the first person she sought after her escape. He used her, fucked her over, then replaced her with a steaming hunk of metal the moment he realized he needed a guitarist. She was nothing to him. So why was he still so important to her? To 2D? To Russel? How did he have this affect on people?

Maybe it was the fact he appeared suddenly in the worst of times. For D, it was after the crash that ruined his eyes. For Russel; the shooting that left him anguished in a constant search for himself. And for Noodle, well... he took her in when she had no one. Before Gorillaz met their fame and fortune. Before he knew the choice would pay off.

Sure, he only kept her around because he needed someone to play the guitar. But he saw something in her. And that meant a lot to Noodle. 

She imagined 2D felt the same.

   | ▶ bluandtrumaya

Angry chatter paired with rumbling engines drowned out Noodle’s very thoughts as she wandered about downtown London. She thought the traffic couldn’t get any worse, then came the sirens shooting up the service lane, the slamming of brakes and a cacophony of honking horns and screeching tires. A helicopter cruised overhead, likely to report traffic, and the sheer volume of the propeller was what finally sent her over the edge. She needed a break from all the noise if she was to stay sane.

A quick look around earned her the sight of a rinky-dink music shop wedged between a tattoo parlor and some sort of place to get your fortune told. Yeah, that seemed trustworthy. She wasn’t looking for some new ink or an old woman to tell her how successful the new album would be, so the music shop would have to do.

The Rockin Bollocks. Somehow, that was still a classier name than this place deserved. Instruments were crammed together like sardines along the floor, and even the ones on display looked tattered and worn. They sold albums from every artist imaginable, but half of them weren’t properly labeled. Franz Ferdinand’s “Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action” was featured under 90s Pop, and… was that Demon Days sorted under “Blur”?

Noodle rolled her eyes. No one was behind the register to ask if she needed any assistance which, while unprofessional, saved her the burden of forced socialization. She ducked behind the first few rows of albums to check out their selection of 80s rock. A lot of the titles she recognized from groups the boys listened to: Talking Heads, Buzzcocks, Joy Division… all that good stuff. Just as she was getting into it, the ringing of the bell on the door disturbed the silence.

“I wouldn’t change it, I don’t fink. ‘m not good at nufink else. ‘n I like music. ‘n I like you guys. So I want t’ do it for us, all of us, even Murdoc. I know ‘e ain’t perfect, not even close but…’e’s still me friend.” How, only god knew, because Murdoc was more rotten to 2D than anyone else on the planet.

Noodle wondered for a moment if she could still call him that. Sure, she respected his musical talent, and she could tolerate his personality. But a friendship? No. At least, not any more. 

“Passionate? Sure. But you don’t have to make excuses for him.”

Noodle placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.