Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I don't own Gorillaz.
A/N: This chapter is one of 2D's memories (notice the italics). Review!
It is a hot spring day, somewhere in May, sweltering. Too hot to be spring, but it was. Thanks, global warming.
We have a day off. Murdoc is in the backyard, in an inflata-pool with a margarita, Russel is sunbathing on the roof (or deep frying, I wasn't gonna check), and I am being smart, sitting in my room with the only air conditioner blasting, on my lazy ass on the computer, watching porn and editing music (watch me multitask, everyone!) Amazing.
Noodle is in the kitchen, windows wide open, letting the breeze in, dancing and singing, just so happy to be alive. I remember how she was wearing a white sundress with tiny red flowers and leaves on the bottom, and an apron. How she dusted and cleaned, and she loved to do it. It was her past-time, we didn't need to ask.
Mine was drinking. And popping pills. But drinking tasted better. And on this particular day, I was in the mood for some, so I got down and looked under my bed, where my stash usually was. And today, it was gone.
I race into the kitchen. Noodle had done the spring cleaning! I grab her shoulder and spin her around to face me. Maybe I was being rougher than I had tried to be, 'cause her eyes were big and she looked scared for a minute and she stopped singing. "Oh, hey, 2D-sama," she says, relaxing, "You're gonna give me a heart attack one day." She wraps her arms around me in a quick hug.
"Noodle, did ya clean my room?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Ya stole the beer." I tried to suppress my anger.
She shakes her head and rolls up her sleeves. "I didn't take anyone's alcohol," she says, washing a plate.
I take her shoulder again, surprised at myself. The dish falls back into the sink with a clatter, but does not break.
"Seriously, now," I say, "Where is it?"
"I didn't take it, and I wouldn't if I could. Don't be stupid, 2D, you know I hate the stuff."
"But you want me ta quit! You'd take it t' get me ta stop!"
She spins to face me again, hair pulled back, rag in hand, hand on hips, glaring. She was beautiful.
"Of course I do," she snaps, "But of your own accord! I'm not gonna hide your booze and vodka to make you stop! You started it, you're gonna stop it!"
"You're always tawking about how you're goin' ta 'elp!"
This must have stirred something inside of her, and with strength surprising of a fifteen year old, she takes my face in her smooth hands and forces me to loom at her. "2D. If I've ever been your friend, it's because we can trust each other. No, don't look away." She snaps my head back into place. I blush. I am being lectured by someone eight years younger than me. "I did not take your drinks."
And we do trust each other. A lot. She wasn't lying, and I could sense it. We could tell things like that. Angry and embarrassed, I push through the door and storm outside.
As soon as I do, I remember it's too hot, and turn to go in, when lo and behold, there is my stash, dumped and drained and lying in the recyclables, spilled all over. Anger flares in me again. She lied! Twice! And had me going!
I grab a can and run in, flailing the evidence. She keeps her eyes on the dishes, and her expression says she doesn't want to see me now.
"You liar," I say, then shout, "You did take it!"
Noodle wipes a bead of sweat off her forehead and looks up, tired of arguing. But when she sees what I'm holding, her face clouds with puzzlement. She takes the cans from me and stares at them, and sniffs them
Then she gives me the queerest look.
"2D..." she says, "What were you thinking when you put your beer in a moldy V8 can?"
A/N: Well, he was probably wasted when he did, so it makes sense.
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