Authors Note- TRIGGER WARNING this story will most likely be very graphic and could be potentially upsetting, reader discretion is advised. Contains- sexual abuse, rape, graphic depictions of violence.

Chapter 1

Noodle didn't know how to feel. She didn't quite understand why her? What was so great about her? She felt guilty whenever she wished he had chosen another girl to hurt, because she knew how awful what he was doing to her was. Noodle realized that even though she was compassionate towards others, she would do anything to get him to stop. To just leave her alone for one week, to let her and her band mates hang out at their own studio happily, and not drag her off to hurt her, using some excuse about bettering her English or guitar.

Frank didn't better anything. He could only destroy. That's all he had done to her. Destroy her childhood (or what was left of it), destroy her hope, destroy her innocence. He had taken and taken from her until Noodle was pretty damn sure there was nothing left. Not anymore.

She had tried everything she could think of to get him to stop. She had tried fighting him, screaming, kicking, scratching, crying, biting. That only made things worse. She had tried complying with him. That was the hardest, pretending she liked it so that maybe, just maybe he would stop. That didn't work either, just made her feel even more sick than usual afterwards.

The fact that none of her band mates had noticed also bothered her. How could they not know? How could they not look at her and see that every week, every time he forced himself inside of her, she died a little bit more. She was sure that pretty soon she would just fade away. Would they even know she was gone? 2D was always so aloof, but she didn't blame him for not noticing a difference in her. To be honest he wouldn't notice anything was wrong even if she straight up told him. Wasn't his fault he was so dense. Russell checked on her but lately he had been having trouble with spirits again, so his mind was elsewhere. She understood he was dealing with his own demons but it did hurt to think he didn't even care enough to see how badly she was hurting, Noodle thought it was pretty damn obvious too. Then there was Murdoc. When she thought of Murdoc being the one to notice, it was almost comical. And yet, she felt like if anyone was noticing anything, it was most definitely him. He noticed when she requested he stop doing her makeup for her, she thought maybe that was enticing Frank. He noticed when she stopped wearing her favorite shorts and tank tops, replacing them more often then not with 2Ds oversized clothes. He noticed when she stopped writing songs, choosing more often then not to just remain silent at band meetings. Even if he suspected something was wrong, he took it as Noodle becoming a brooding teen. It happens to everyone at some point, right?

Noodle never thought about telling him though. No. She couldn't tell anyone. It was too humiliating, too awful. She wasn't even sure she could say it out loud to herself. Frank had also threatened to kill her band mates if she told anyone, which she felt was an empty threat, but then again, he had held a knife to her throat on more than one occasion when she fought too much for his liking.

It had all started five months earlier, when she had just turned 14. He had already known her from when she was younger and he would help manage the band with Murdoc. They were old roommates in college, and both went into music, so Murdoc thought who better to help manage Gorillaz and produce their legendary music. Noodle trusted the guy enough, he had never been creepy before. Maybe a weird hug from time to time, but never anything that would be a red flag.

One day he had offered to teach Noodle guitar and help her get a true grasp on the English language. She should've known that was bullshit. Sure, she wasn't the most fluid speaker when it came to English but she could hold conversations and reply to questions, she could speak it enough to live her life and then some. She didn't need help with it, and she certainly didn't need anyone to give her guitar lessons. But when Frank insisted on helping her, Murdoc talked her into it. She remembers him saying "what's the harm?" Hah.

Frank waited a couple of weeks after it began, he was pretty okay at guitar but his skill level was nowhere near Noodle's, she knew that. So why had he offered her guitar lessons? Whatever, she had nothing better to do, and he did speak fluent Japanese which was nice when he was teaching her English. That being said, he didn't teach her anything she would consider to be useful. It was one day when he was leaning in a bit too close that it hit her. She tried to back away but he pulled her to him. She tried to scream but then remembered where they were. They were in the studio recording room. Soundproof. The bastard had thought of everything, right down to the door being bolted shut. She had no chance.

The first time hurt like no other. Noodle could've sworn she had never felt such pain in her entire life. She screamed and cried and begged him to stop, she remembered blood pouring from between her legs as he forced himself inside of her over and over again. She would have to clean it up off of the floor before she left.

Noodle remembered waiting. Waiting for that "out of body" experience that every rape victim claims they have. Waiting until she could just stop feeling the pain and float away from herself until he was done, until it was over. She waited and waited, but that moment never came. Noodle felt every push of his hips into hers, she felt every touch that sent her reeling. She heard every disgusting horrifying thing he whispered to her. "She was so beautiful, how could he resist her any longer".

More than anything else Noodle remembered right after the first time he attacked her. She remembered him pulling up his pants, she remembered him threatening her, telling her all of the awful things he would do to her if she ever told a soul what he had done. She remembered him throwing her a towel and telling her to clean up before exiting the studio.

She laid there for what felt like hours, and in all honestly it probably was. Legs spread, blood and cum between her thighs beginning to crust up and dry. She remembered almost being paralyzed, wanting more than anything to cry but not being able to. Not long after Noodle finally wiped up her own blood from the floor and managed to stand up, 2D had knocked on the door, telling her they were calling it a day. Her shower that night was so long, she probably prevented the others from having hot water for days.

Here she was, almost half a year into this hell and nothing had changed. He was still rough, he was still disgusting, she still felt everything. Blood still pooled between her legs most days, but she much preferred that to the days when she felt things she could only assume were akin to pleasure. She hated those days more than anything. Those were the times she could've died right there on the spot and it would've been okay.

Either way she wasn't dead, at least not physically.