On Melancholy Hill

by Allium394

Lonely and bored on Plastic Beach, Murdoc decides to do something the world would never imagine him doing: he writes a song. Not just any song, a sad love song (gasp!). Join Murdoc on his (despite his liking) emotional journey to Melancholy Hill as he longs for his dear guitarist. (Here's the usual "excuse my bad summary, it's my first fanfic" thing.)

1. Chapter 1

Murdoc:

I sat on the roof of my Plastic Beach mansion playing my bass. The mellow sound of the instrument sounded especially sweet today. I wasn't sure if it was just the day or it was because I was drunk. Either way, today felt special. I sat there, played, and absorbed the low sound of El Diablo. Although I wasn't playing anything specific, I kept coming back to this one pattern. Eventually I kept playing that pattern over and over and over again. It stuck. It consisted only of five different notes but I instantly fell in love with those five notes. D, A, B, F#, G.

I eventually took a break from playing to have another drink. Sitting back down on the roof, my bass next to me now, drink in hand; I looked out on the surrounding ocean. It was so peaceful, no one at all for miles and miles. It was truly wonderful to be in the farthest place from any land mass on earth. Point Nemo was a plastic paradise. I had all my stuff here plus no people around. I love stuff, hate people.

As I surveyed the view, I realized something; where I sat was like a hill. Like a peaceful, grassy hill… only without the grass. I'd never really been to a hill like that, though I'd seen pictures. And while I hate to admit that I have a heart, I really do think the hill would be wonderful.

After about an hour of basking in the solitude of Plastic Beach, I realized something that probably proved that I had a heart further: I was lonely. Or at least felt a little empty. Maybe it was because they were no girls on this island, or maybe it was because the band wasn't there, or, again, maybe it was the alcohol. It probably wasn't because the band wasn't there because God knows I could without 2-D, living without Russel also doable, and Noodle… that was a tough one.

Noodle was great. There were a lot of great guitar players in the music industry but Noodle was definitely the best. She was in the world's greatest band, wasn't she? Plus, she's just amazing. Despite the fact that for a large portion of when I knew her she could only speak Japanese, I could still understand the spunk and energy the little ten-year-old had. She was like a little sister to me.

At this moment I realized that my emptiness might've been for my longing for Noodle but the melancholy for how it could never be filled: Noodle was most likely dead. God, I don't want to have a heart.