A/N: No, you're not seeing things. This is an actual update that's not 6 months overdue! Ha... Ok, I'll stop picking on myself. I know I've said this before, but I really love writing for Phase 2. It's fun to explore what might have gone on during the creation of Demon Days... which was my favorite Gorillaz record. I feel like these early times were crucial building blocks in 2D and Noodle's relationship also, be it their friendship or otherwise. I'm beginning to think that I take too much enjoyment in making Murdoc the bad guy though... I know the poor bloke is only human. Not to worry, I have plans for him.

Please enjoy reading and thank you SO much for your wonderful reviews. Positive feedback is always appreciated. Happy Holidays and hope to get another update going for you guys soon!


-Ch. 06-

Lyric, melody, rhythm, and truth.

These key elements, to her, made up a genuine piece of music.

A song.

When all else seemed confusing or distant, her melodic mind drifted, leading her away from the darkness life sometimes cloaked her in and into the light that was her own composition.

Within music, she could thrive.

She hoped that with the music she conjured from the darkness of her world, she could sway others to break away from their own hellish dusk and into the dawn of song.

This is what she wanted. This is what Demon Days was intended to represent; a journey leading away from the darkness and into the light.

A simple enough concept to grasp…. For anyone else but a Satanist.


June 16th, 2004

"Ayyyaaahh! This is inexcusable!" Noodle slammed down a stack of papers onto the desk in front of her and placed her hands over her forehead.

"Babe, I know yah weren't set on these fella's, but De La Soul will add some flair to the record." Russ sat across from her with concern written across his large face.

"…I understand that. What I don't understand is how Murdoc can simply offer them a part in the song before discussing it with Brian or myself first! It's so…disrespectful!"

"I know…I know." The big man sighed, leaning back in his chair so far that it threatened to break.

Recording of their latest album was turning out to be more stressful than they had anticipated. Although a great hand had been lent by their newfound producer Danger Mouse (aka Brian Burton), for some odd reason things seemed to have gone much smoother on their debut album. Neither of them could remember why.

"I don't want to come off as selfish….but these are my songs! I've worked hard on them…poured my soul into them. How can he be so senseless towards that?"

"You know as well as I do that the cracker ain't right in the head. He'll take and take for himself before even once thinking of someone else. Don't let it get yah down, Noodle girl. Yeah, he should have spoken with yah first about it and you can bet your ass I'll be talkin' to him later about it, but I'm sure he wouldn't have asked De La Soul to collab with us if he didn't think they were right for the job. You'll see; it'll work out. And if it doesn't, you can send 'em packin'."

Noodle glanced up. Russel could always say the right thing to console her, even in her worst of moods. She picked the papers back up and read the words printed on them again. It still irked her….she couldn't deny it. But she didn't want to cause any further commotion, so she deemed it best to drop the subject. "I suppose I should give them a chance."

Russ smiled and stood up from his seat, patting her on the shoulder, "That'a girl."

She returned the smile and watched as he exited the office, reaching down to scratch his rear-end in the process.

Once he was out of sight, she let her smile fade as she read over the papers again; lyrics she had derived from scratch tossed with someone else's ideas. It didn't feel right to her….. The song she was trying to render seemed askew with De La Soul's rap mixed in. She had nothing against the genre of rap, of course. All varietals of music held meaning to her and would act as vital organs beneath the living body of the record. But the particular words used in the rap were not what she had intended on vocalizing.

Her mind drifted to Gorillaz' first record, a copy of which hung on an adjacent wall in the office room she sat in. How had it been so informal back then? Everything had happened so fast….The song writing, the collaborations, the recording, the music videos; it had all taken place with such abstract haste. Why were things more difficult now? Sometimes she wondered if all her late night sessions with Danger Mouse, strategic positioning of instruments, and delicate use of collaborators was a waste of time.

She ran one of her hands across the paper littered with lyrics before letting the stack fall onto the floor in a pile. She tightened her fists and when she was sure no one was outside the door she lifted her leg and stomped down on the papers with her right converse shoe.

After leaving a lovely footprint on one of the sheets, she heaved a sigh and reached for the guitar that had been accompanying her throughout the studio that day. She plopped down on her chair with slight aggression and began to strum a few harmonies.

The immediate sound of music soothed her, although it felt choppy and unpolished.

She played the tune of the lyric sheet she had so belligerently trampled, almost feeling bad that she had done so in the first place.

After playing the tune several times over, she briskly placed her hand over the strings to stop the humming of the chords and rested her forehead on the wooden frame. "This isn't what I want." She whispered.


Outside the room and down the hall, an azure-haired vocalist was doing hand-tricks with a flip-phone he had just so mindlessly dropped onto the concrete floor. Now that it had been destroyed, he reckoned it worthy of a toy to keep his mind off of the gloomy atmosphere Kong had taken on over the past several weeks.

Collaborators had been coming in and out of the studio, testing out parts to songs and adding so much new material to the record that it may very well combust. Unless a finalized set was decided on in the next month, young Noodle's Demon Days would be ever-more delayed in conception.

In all honesty, he didn't mind waiting. 2D never enjoyed recording. It was a chore; cumbrous and tiring. Murdoc always demanded more of his vocals than he could provide in one sitting, leaving him with a hoarse voice and several lumps on the head at the end of each assembly.

No, recording could wait as long as it needed to. Meanwhile, he would nonchalantly float under the radar, doing as little as possible until his vocals were required. Currently, it was the only time he had to himself. And he did, surprisingly enough, find solitude to be increasingly pleasurable as the rainy days drew on.

Grazing down the hallway, he happened to pass the office where Noodle sat. At first he wasn't going to stop in; there was a bag of cannabis with his name on it back in his quarters which he had stowed away for a day like today. But the way she sat slouched over in her chair, forehead pressed against her acoustic guitar concealing her face, he figured he might quickly check on her to ensure all was well. She had been more stressed than he had ever seen her as of late.

He awkwardly stuffed his broken cell phone in his pocket and stepped into the room. He noticed the papers all over the floor, wondering if she had noticed them too. He tilted his head to read them, spotting several printed lyrics underneath a dirty footprint.

He rubbed the back of his neck before kneeling down to collect the papers. "Blud, yeh know yeh 'ave some lyric sheets on the floor 'ere?"

Noodle picked up her head, startled a bit by his sudden presence. Immediately she felt a line form in her skin from where she had been resting her forehead on the guitar frame. She reached up to rub it away. "Yes, actually…they arrived in the mail this morning."

He got up and sat in the chair opposite from her, glancing them over. "Yeh don't seem too happy with 'em."

She sat her chin down on the guitar frame. "What makes you think I'm unhappy with them… they're fine."

"Well….they were on the floor. Assumin' yeh wouldn't leave somethin' on the floor yeh fancied is all."

She involuntarily shot a harmless glare in his direction, which he missed.

He leaned back to read the lyric sheets further.

Noodle rubbed her forehead a bit more, "De La Soul's parts…. are fine."

The vocalist saw the added rap bits, something he was certain he hadn't perceived on her demos. "Seems alright. A bit different than I remember though. When did yeh add 'em in?"

Noodle stood from her seat suddenly, still holding her guitar against her torso, "I didn't! Murdoc-…He added their part in without even asking me. He is ungrateful. He knows how hard I've worked, how long it has taken me to tie all the loose ends… and yet he thinks it so unimportant to let me know when he invites new collaborators in on my songs."

2D was staggered by her open attitude and outward frustration, although he shouldn't have been. She had gradually become more undefended around him since they had confided in each other several weeks prior. After learning about her past, Stu also felt more self-assured around her. She was no longer a mystery that needed to be solved, but rather a friend he could feel confident around. There was no need for suppression or refinement between them any longer. They both found comfort in knowing that they now had someone to freely talk to.

2D read through De La Soul's parts a few times before sighing, "He did the same thing to me when we were writing the first record. Always goin' behind my back like I didn't know better! Drove me mad… Felt like all the stuff I'd written and worked on, which I thought was well brilliant, was nothin' but rubbish! It worked out in the end though, I guess. Made us a good debut anyway."

"But shouldn't this record be different from the first? Shouldn't we be able to focus on a purpose rather than jump around through different genres, doing exactly what the mainstream media wants us to do?"

Noodle's words were always strikingly beyond her years. 2D should have learned by now to expect nothing less from a 13 year old who had already composed her own record, among other things.

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it."

Noodle wanted to scowl at him again, but she couldn't help but chuckle at the simple response.

"I am fully aware that we still need to participate in certain mainstream facets in order to appeal to our listeners, however…I still want to incorporate my message!"

"Yeh message?"

Noodle sat back down now, running her hand up the neck of her guitar. "I told Murdoc I wanted this record to mean something….to have a message. Danger Mouse knows this too. When I returned to Kong from my journey East, I witnessed first-hand what the media has done to people in this world. Society has forgotten what's important in music…and in life. They're filling their heads with whatever poppy-filth comes out of their radios. Like the zombies that walk our property, people are asininely treading through a darkness that they can't escape from. I wanted to create something that could remind them to wake up from that emptiness and realize what true music is again…. To come out of their darkness and into what light they used to know before the mainstream rotted their minds."

Noodle looked up from the strings on her guitar to gain feedback from the Cockney. He was listening patiently. He had always been a well-off listener; something she enjoyed about him.

She looked down again at the instrument sitting in her lap. "I think that is my true mission in life…. To deliver again a true musical sense to the people on this potentially dead planet."

2D watched her for a moment before grinning, "Well, this planet can't be dead yet."

She peered over at him, "Why not?"

He picked back up the lyric sheet that had her footprint on it. He read through the chorus of the song with a content expression, "'Cause there are still people like you left on it."

His comment caught her off guard. She didn't know how to respond to such a kindred statement. Luckily, he further elaborated: "I think as long as there are people out there who care enough to try and change things for the better, the planet is still far from dead."

Noodle smiled. Stuart Pot was the wisest dimwit she could ever hope to know. "Now you see why I am upset about De La Soul's collaboration? This particular song wasn't meant to be vulgar in any way. It was meant to showcase what this world used to be…and what it could be again if people tried to look away from the darkness in society."

2D nodded, leaning over to look at more papers now scattered on the desk beside them. "Yeh know….maybe there is a way to incorporate De La Soul's part without disruptin' yeh message."

Noodle perked up, "Do explain."

"Well, if yeh took the chorus and separated it from the rap…it would be somewhat like…. how would you describe it?..." She watched his face twist for a moment, worrying if he might hurt himself in his thought-process. "Ah, I know." He began again, "There's billions of people in the world, yeah? And every person has to sort of decide how they want to live their life…. They have'ta triumph an inner battle as obstacles try to influence 'em to go astray. Do they give in to the guilty pleasures of media and fake social-expectations? Or do they step away from sin and into the pure goodness this world intended for 'em… and live their life for what's truly important? Like…love and happiness, what have you."

The guitarist sat up straight, thinking about his explanation.

"….Sorry, I uh, don't know if that came out quite the way I was hopin'."

"No, no." Noodle raised her hand, "I understand what you meant perfectly." She rose and set her guitar to the side of her chair, gathering the papers up again and reading them over. "2D, that could work!"

"What could 2D possibly make work? I must know." A raspy voice broke through the progressive conversation.

Noodle and 2D both turned towards the doorway to find Murdoc in what resembled a Hugh Heffner robe with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and genitals peeking out from the slit in his attire each time he shifted weight.

"We were jus' workin' with Noodle's song that yeh happened to randomly include De La Soul in without tellin' 'er." 2D spoke as if he were trying to get the pale-skinned bassist in trouble.

Muds was unfazed. "Oh did I not tell you, love? You'll have to find it in your heart to forgive me. I'm right old now, you see. I've become forgetful…meh…"

"Yes, I'm certain it was due to your feeble age that you forgot I am the one who wrote these songs. I didn't try and mess with your material on our debut. Why can't you be respectful and at least pass your ideas by Danger Mouse or I first before initiating them?"

"Listen, dearie. You were a child back then….couldn't speak a lick of English…I wouldn't have expected you to interfere with my material, even if you had intended to. And that producer of yours is a quack. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're still a child aren't you? I was simply lending a professional adult hand on the record. De La Soul will make your song a hit! The leader of the band knows best, after all. Am I right or am I right?"

2D bit his lip. Things had been tenser between the bassist and guitarist than in previous times. It was obvious that they were on equal levels from a musician stand-point. But Murdoc had an advantage in age….and he certainly had a collection of years ahead of her. Noodle respected this fact; however it didn't stop her from tossing him a burning glare. "Do cover yourself up, Mr. Niccals. Showing an underage girl your unmentionables is most inappropriate."

Murdoc glanced down at the opening in his robe and grinned evilly as he shooed the fabric over himself. "Oh, now I'm embarrassed."

With a twist of his heel, Muds was gone down the dark hallway, leaving Noodle fuming and 2D growing evermore nervous. One of them was sure to rip the other's head off one day.

Noodle took one of the lyric sheets, wadded it up, and threw it with a grunt at the doorway. Unfortunately, she missed the doorway and it bounced off the wall instead, rolling back over towards her feet.

After several moments of standing in frustration, Noodle sat back down and hung her head. "…..Perhaps he is right….Maybe I am just a child…..Maybe I don't know what I'm doing."

It was in times such as these that 2D wished he could think of something quirky to say. But alas, quirky remarks only became accessible to him when they weren't sought after.

Despite his lack of context, thoughts ran rampant through his mind. He glanced down at the wadded up lyric sheet. Noodle was the youngest band member, there was no denying that. But for some strange reason he had never thought of her as a child. She was the most sensible and brightest person he had ever known. And she was only 13! Murdoc knew this, and he feared her ability and wit would surpass his one day.

This was the advantage Noodle had over the bassist….and 2D both envied and admired her for it. She had no reason to hang her head. She was brilliant! But it wouldn't be enough just to tell her so. It would mean nothing coming from him. Maybe it was best for her to figure it out for herself. He knew it would only be a matter of time anyway.

He reached down for the wad of paper and unwrinkled it, grinning as he did so.

Noodle had been memorizing the stitch pattern in her shoes when the now furrowed lyric sheet came into her view. 2D was handing it over to her with his lengthy arm.

She took it and peered over at him. He was beaming a goofy grin, causing her to lose facade and perk up a bit. She reached for her guitar again and set the paper on the table. She didn't need to read it…she knew the tune by heart.

As she began to play, Stu chimed in with his own instrument. Smiling, Noodle let go of her distress.

"Windmill, Windmill for the land,

Turn forever, hand in hand.

Take it all, in on your stride,

It is sticking, falling down...

Love forever, love is free,

Let's turn forever, you and me.

Windmill, Windmill for the land,

Is everybody in…?"

[END Ch. 06]

/TBC/