Disclaimer: I do not own Gorillaz
First Date: Chapter 10: Bloody Sundays part 2
Noodle and Kevin huddled together on the couch listening to music on the radio. Kevin had barely let go of Noodle in the half hour since the knife incident. The couple was still rather shaken up over the incident and Noodle would occasionally whimper before burrowing her face in his chest again.
The last time she had done that was to D. Except it had been his side and arm that gotten sliced up the day before the Reject False Icons shoot. She remembered that too well. He had tried to wake her up from sleepwalking in the kitchen by shaking her. Big mistake. She had whipped out the kitchen knife and made large slashing movements. He had moved out of the way for the fatal slashes, but fell and threw his hands up according to the security video footage and it was his screams of pain that woke her and the other two. One emergency room trip and 42 stitches later, everyone knew how not to wake her up.
She knew one thing though, this was twice too many times. Maybe she wasn't meant to function in normal society.
Kevin had been gently rocking her side to side, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. Even though she had just attacked him, he still loved her. He felt a bit insane for admitting it, but it really wasn't her fault. It was his really for sneaking up on her like that and now he knew never to do it again. Now that he thought about it, she had warned him when they first started dating to never ever sneak up on her. Oops.
Maybe he should start writing these things down.
Robert sat in front of the tiny French café alongside the river. It was early morning and the smell of coffee, cigarettes and the river filled the small area. He had his Blackberry out and flicked through his emails. Oh what a wondrous invention this thing was. He checked the schedule for the day. Sightseeing and then a meeting with the Client in the next few hours. Hopefully the deal would be closed by dinner and he would celebrate with champagne and a call girl.
One email caught his eye from the subject line and sender. URGENT. He opened it and discovered it was from his boss. He scrolled through it, his face darkening with every word. He was no longer come into contact with the client until the matter of a restraining order from back in England was sorted out. Until then, his co-worker was on his way to relieve him. This would result in his co-worker most likely getting the promotion he was angling for with the closing of this deal. He slammed the Blackberry down on the table in anger, causing several people to turn and look.
Oh Angela…He felt the last bit of his slowly recovering sanity fly out the window as he laughed. People began to move away from the laughing madman. She had ruined his life in terms of his family, friends and most of his co-workers at the Engagement Party. When she left him. When she displayed the burns on her arms and bruises on her for all to see. When she called him a control freak, anal retentive and obsessive compulsive and then the killer that caused the room to erupt: Abusive. When she created a train wreck of the picture perfect future he had planned out for them. When her brother and his army friends had beat the living shit out of him that night.
Admittedly, he had taken a penchant to shoving her around. It had started with shoving her against the walls in foreplay before an evening of rough sex, resulting in scratches and bruises on both parties. Then she had said she was getting uncomfortable with the level of roughness they reached. He had backed off. Then stress started building up from work and one night he came home drunk. He had exploded and they ended up in a physical confrontation. He didn't remember much except both throwing punches and the police showing up from the neighbors calling in for a domestic dispute. The next day he had held her close, promised it wouldn't happen again and that he loved her.
But it had been such a release and rush to fight her off as she defended herself. It happened again three months later. Then again. And again. And again until it was almost every other week they were getting into physical confrontations. Then the cigarette incident. He remembered looking at the cigarette and remembering the article he'd read about how smoking mothers weakened their children's lungs. He had taken the cigarette, bent on getting her to quit. She had thrown him off of her and tried to leave. The police showed up again. Same cop. Smithy if he remembered.
He had felt immense satisfaction when her mother had drunkenly shoved her down the half flight of stairs immediately after the party for 'embarrassing her family and herself like that in public and some sacrifices were necessary to be comfortable'. But the sense of satisfaction grew as he caused misery in her life after the fact. He had considered moving on with his life while in France, finally being satisfied. Let her get on with her life and let himself build his back up. But now this. This restraining order might cost him his job!
Yes…Oh yes. That bitch was going to pay much more dearly this time around.
Murdoc lay on his back, grin on his face and still getting his breathing back under control. Sex was truly a wonderful thing. It was up there with alcohol and Black Sabbath in his book. Correction. His list had been comprised of Gorillaz, Sex, Alcohol, Satan and Money. She was going in there somewhere. He wasn't sure where though. They were all equal in his mind at that moment. He turned his head to face said woman.
Angela had drifted off to sleep wrapped up in the sweat soaked sheet next to him. She looked so calm when she slept. He let out a long breath in content. Yes, life was good. Gorillaz were doing amazing in the charts, he had the woman of his dreams laying next to him and he had a case of booze waiting for him back in the Winne. His eyes traveled down her left arm laid next to her with her hand under the pillow. What the hell? He leaned in closer to eye the ten circular ugly scars in a heart shape. He recognized them as cigarette burns. Hell, he had a few from dropping them and when Hannibal decided to see how he'd react if he put one out on his leg one time when they were young. How the hell had he not noticed those fuckers before? More importantly, how the fuck did she get them? There was no way she did them herself. He ran his hand over them, causing her to wake up.
"Hmm what?" She mumbled, attempting to snuggle in to his body. "As much as I would love to, I don't have time for a round two if that's what you're after."
"These. Explain. Now." He demanded as he gestured her forearm.
"It's in the past." She yawned and buried her head in his chest. "I don't want to talk about it."
"No. Explain." He lifted her face and looked her dead in the eye, clearly not going to drop it until she caved in and told him. 'Damn busybody' she thought as she glared at him.
"Fine." She grumbled. "My lovely ex-fiancé and I got drunk and he decided to 'help' me quit smoking. Which is why I have the restraining order along with the stalking and generally terrorizing us on a weekly basis. Happy now?" She snapped, rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, bare back facing him, clearly upset over something. "What's done is done. Now I need to go get a shower and get dressed. Think you can handle cleaning up and be fine on your own till I get back down here?"
"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled as he embraced tightly from behind. "Love, what exactly do you mean by terrorizing?"
She turned to face him and he kissed her but she pulled away and untangled herself from the sheets before wrapping up in a lap blanket, gathering her clothes and leaving the room without a further word. He watched as Balto looked up from his position outside the door at his mistress, whined, looked at him, gave a little growl and followed her.
Of course there was a catch. He thought as he fell back on the bed. There was always a catch. This time it happened to be that he had to deal with a psycho ex. Brilliant. Same way there was a catch to Gorillaz. He had to put up with Stu-Pot's sheer brain damaged stupidity, the fact that he had to be on constant watch for the Boogeyman and make sure Russ took his meds and that Noodle was safe from perverts. He threw the sheets off of him and started searching for his own clothes as he heard the water running from upstairs. Still, as he searched for his underwear, he couldn't shake the feeling there was much more to the story than she was telling him and he was not okay with that. If she wasn't going to tell him, well maybe it was time to talk to that psychotic woman named Victoria.
Victoria paced inside the dressing room during break. She was dressed as Maureen for the RENT slot of the Tribute to Broadway and West End show. Whoever thought it up needed to be slapped in her opinion. Angela wasn't there along with Kevin. Had the police arrested her under suspicion? Looking back on it, no matter how great it was, she probably should have waited. Jumping Geoff right after that had made it look incredibly bad for Angela. Perkele! How stupid was that! But yet, the look on his face when he discovered he was about to get exactly what was coming to him was great.
She looked down and noticed a droplet of blood on her jacket. She attempted to scratch at it to no avail. Fuck! She whipped out her cell phone and hit the 1 key and it began dialing Angela's phone.
"Yes?"
"Oh Angela, thank GOD! I thought they had arrested you."
"Er…no?"
"Ok, so why aren't you here?"
"I don't have to be on time to go argue with Marco and get my things."
"Ok. So how did last night go with him? Take him back and sleep with him?" She teased.
Silence.
"You didn't."
Silence.
"You did. Finally, you got laid! Good girl!"
Click.
She redialed.
"I'm just kidding. But did you seriously?"
"Yes." She mumbled sheepishly.
Victoria let out a girlish squeal.
"With your nephews in the house? Damn woman!"
"No, they were out this morning with Oliver." She argued defensively, still clearly embarrassed.
"Morning sex! Even better. Now get your ass down here and give me details!"
Click.
She redialed once more.
"Oh come on!"
"I'm getting dressed now if I'm not interrupted by he who cannot mind his own business. I'll talk to you soon." Angela grumbled.
Click.
What the hell did that mean? Victoria stared at the phone. She shrugged it off and decided to ask her later when she got there.
She pressed 4 and it began to dial Kevin's.
"Hullo?"
"Kevin it's Victoria. Why aren't you here yet?"
"I'm on my out the door now. We've been a bit…preoccupied over here." He said distractedly.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't worry about it. It's over now."
"Kevin, what happened?"
"Not going to tell you."
"You cheeky little brat."
Click.
Why was everyone hanging up on her today? She thought in frustration as she threw her phone in her bag and sulked. Her ears perked up when she heard loud talking from down the hall. She quickly trotted down the hallway and listened. She glanced around the corner and saw Henry cornered by what were two cops. Ergh. She recognized one of the two. It hadn't exactly been the first time the police had been to the theater or her first encounter with the police. She had so many ASBOs for the most random things it was a bit ridiculous.
"What do you mean he's in the hospital?" Henry sounded floored. "Well this is just great. We have no Director of Music now for tonight!" He threw his hands in the air.
"He got jumped last night."
"Where?"
"Behind the theater. No one saw or heard anything naturally."
"What are you insinuating detectives?"
"That you're protecting your people. Look, you let us talk to them and we'll leave you alone."
"Got a warrant? Thought so. Get out of my theater."
Victoria took off back down the hall, digging for a cigarette. She settled out back, leaning against the wall, inhaling deeply the tobacco. Whew. Dodged that bullet. She smiled as leaned her head back and exhaled the white plume of smoke straight up. She watched the smoke twist and tendrils curl and begin to separate into the cold, cloudy sky…
"Hey!" She heard down the alley.
"Sod off, I'm not a whore, pervert!" She snarled without glancing over. "Now beat it or you'll see exactly how much-"
"Ahem." She turned to see the two cops standing in front of her with their badges out. She scowled at Smithy, his white hair, wrinkled face and piercing blue eyes against his black coat. The younger man she didn't recognize. He looked like much too much a pushover to be on the force.
"Tch." She exhaled into the younger one's face.
"Hello Victoria. Looking lovely as usual. Come to ask you some questions." Detective Smithy grinned.
"About what exactly?" She asked dangerously as she narrowed her eyes. When he used flattery, it usually meant he wanted something and was trying not to wage war.
Oh how many times had it been when Detective, formerly Officer, Smithy had dragged her home to her parents growing up and to Angela's for being drunk in public? Or even approached her about various people on the block? They had a silent agreement, she got respect, he got answers. She got lectured, he got nothing.
Smithy's partner Fifer looked over at the older cop. He had never met Victoria. Obviously the older man did. What ever she was, he didn't appreciate the woman's attitude.
"Show some respect." Fifer growled. "Now we don't have all day, so mind telling us what happened last night?"
"Fuck you." She chuckled. "I don't have to talk to you about anything unless I'm under arrest and don't even try to pull the vagrancy card. I got a fifty on me." She ground out the cigarette and walked back inside.
Smithy glared at the man.
"What? What did I do?"
"Shut up and get back in the damn car. I told you to keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking." Smithy growled. "I've dealt with her before and there is a right way and a wrong way to get information out of Victoria Irving and you've got one chance with her. You did it the wrong way. If I'm going to retire soon, you need to learn how to handle her because you're going to run into her much too much in this job because you just lost the one witness that could have given us names. We're never going to get that chance again."
"What do you mean right way and wrong way?" Fifer asked as they piled into the car.
"Rule number one: She will not respect you until you show her respect. Two: She's not going to talk to you if you come right out and confront her with it. You got to talk to her like a normal human and not like a suspect or witness. Same goes for Marilee Jackson."
"Why does she have her own set of rules? She's just like everyone else!" Fifer threw his hands up.
"Ah ah ah! There you go. Victoria and Marilee are very much busybodies and gossips. They know almost everything about everyone around these parts. Treat them well, they'll sing. Treat them poorly and you'll never get anything out of them."
"Fine! So on to the hospital?"
"Yes."
"Sam."
"Yes Uncle Oliver?" Sam looked up from the ground on the London street.
"How the bloody hell are we going to explain this to your aunt?"
"I dunno." He laughed.
"I mean, how the hell do you run into a bloody phone booth?"
Kevin decided to skive off practice. He knew the show anyways. Noodle and him lay on the couch, talking. He didn't want to stop that. Well, that was until dinner rolled around. They had reluctantly gotten in the car and driven a half hour to Kevin's mother's house.
"You must be Noodle!" His mother threw her arms around her. Noodle froze up and looked at Kevin, pleading for help while awkwardly patting her on the back. The woman let go and took a step back to look at her while beaming. Kevin's mother was a short, plump woman with his hair and eyes Noodle noted. "I have heard so much about you dearie. It is so nice to finally meet you."
"Here Mum. From Angela with love." Kevin handed her the bag and box.
"Oh lovely. Well tell her thanks tonight." His mother tittered as she began to bustle about the kitchen, setting things around the table, setting up three settings.
"I doubt she'll be there. She quit last night."
She stopped and slapped her hand on the counter with her mouth ajar.
"No!"
"Yes. I'll tell you later."
"Alright, alright. So I hear you're from Japan dearie. What part? Before Kevin was born, we lived in Kyoto for two years because my late husband's job. Your brother was what? Three?" She thought about it.
"I grew up in Osaka." Noodle answered meekly.
"I loved Osaka. Such a lovely place to me." She smiled sweetly.
"May I use your bathroom?"
"Of course! Down the hall to the right. Door should be open."
Noodle darted off.
"I like her!" She hissed. "She's on the skinny side though. Needs to eat something, but we can fix that. Good job."
Kevin chuckled nervously. Oh this was going to be a fun night.
"Bella, What if I grant you raise? Eh? What you say about that?" Marco pleaded in broken English.
"Marco, they're offering me-"
"I'll match."
"No! Marco! Please don't-
"Ok, I offer double your salary now. We can afford that. You will make what Timothy makes. I'd fire Geoff, but right now he's in the hospital."
Angela rubbed the bridge of her nose. What a long day. Murdoc insisted on walking her to the theater and attempted to press the subject of Robert further. She had refused to speak about it and he mercifully had dropped it and instead starting asking when she was leaving, when she was getting back etc. He informed her he'd stop by the night before she left. She had agreed, although she knew he'd probably forget or something would come up. He had taken her phone and put his number in and gotten her email before kissing her one last time and wandering off to call a cab.
"Bella, we need someone tonight on stage. Understudy sicker than a dog."
"Ok, so who's going to be in the pit?"
"Timothy. He has music experience. You know that."
She sighed and leaned back in the red velvet chair in Marco's office. The entire office was done up in the original furniture from the original theater. Modern photos, ancient black and white photos and a few paintings lined the walls along with various permits and licenses and awards.
"Ok, how's this; I will do tonight and give you my final decision when I get back from America?"
"Sounds reasonable." Marco agreed reluctantly.
"Alright, you've got me for tonight."
She entered the dressing room to stares.
"I'm here for tonight. Don't know if I'll be back in two weeks or not." She announced to silence and the women went back to what they were doing.
"What do you mean?" Victoria grabbed her and pulled her aside.
"It means Marco offered me a raise and I'm deciding between the two jobs when I get back."
"Alright. Ok, now give me details woman!" Victoria demanded as Angela started to get undressed. "And honey…hold on, hold on. DAMN!"
"What?" Angela looked down to where Victoria was pointing to see a lovely love bite on her side. How the hell had she missed that? "Goddammit Murdoc!" She slapped a hand over it as she growled. She had forgotten about his occasional nasty habit of leaving his mark on her for her find later like a giant "Murdoc Niccals woz 'Ere'" sign. He knew it pissed her off and he had found it rather hilarious when she looked over her body after a night together trying to find wherever or if he had left one so she could make sure she wore something that wouldn't show it for work. It was like an annoying scavenger hunt for the ever elusive hickey. God forbid he left two and she couldn't find the other one until a coworker would point it out when her work shirt would lift a certain way.
"You're going to want to cover that up with make-up. Unless you're going for that whole look for Mimi." Victoria grimaced sympathetically. Well, Angela figured she couldn't complain. During Victoria's and Hubert's make-up sex, he had left innumerable in places she couldn't cover up due to her costume and her sensitivity to the makeup as his last piece of revenge. "So I take it you two had…er…a fun morning." She snickered.
"Shut up." Angela pointed at her.
"I told you so."
"Shut up…not listening." She replied absently as she pulled on the Anita dress for West Side Story.
"So why is he 'He-who-cannot-mind-his-own-business'?"
"He asked about the arm." She replied as she began putting cover-up on said scars.
"Oh. Well did you tell him?"
"I gave him bare details, nothing more."
"Why not? You're back together with him, aren't you? Doesn't he have some sort of right to know your ex slapped you around?" Victoria lowered her voice.
"No. It's none of his business. The past is the past and it does no use bringing it up again."
"In other words, you don't trust him enough."
"I mean, maybe one day I'll tell him-"
"Yeah and one day I'll hit the lotto and move to Hollywood and become a big name actress." Victoria rolled her eyes.
"Oh yes, lovely pillow talk. 'Thanks for the sex oh and by the way, my ex-fiancé and I used to get into fist fights when he got drunk and now he stalks me and set my postbox on fire.' Yes, such a lovely thing."
"Hey, Half hour!" Graham announced over the speaker.
"Ok, we'll talk about it after the show. We'll get coffee. Did Kevin ever show up?"
"Eventually. Showed up with his girlfriend about a half hour ago."
"Ok. Well, can you zip me up mon ami?"
"Yes indeed. Only if you agree to tell him."
"I will eventually. How's that?"
"Fine." Victoria reached over and zipped up the dress. Some days she swore her best friend was more dysfunctional than she was.