Chapter Eight
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gorillaz.
A/N: This chapter is a really short memory, I don't have a lot of time to write, and not a lot to write about, but after this the chapters get really long. Be careful, some important information's been hidden in here. Take your notes!
Noodle and I sit in the recording studio, listening to the two new tracks we have just made. One of them is Feel Good Inc.
Noods, she wasn't very happy when I told her I wanted to use that name for it. "It's too dangerous," she said, "You go public with that single, the gov will be all over us." But when she listened to it closely, she shrugged and said, "You're the singer. Do what you wish. But I will not have a part in this track."
"But ya 'afta! It ain' good witout ya," I persisted.
She shook her head. "I will not sing this song."
"Not even play?"
She must have seen my downcast face 'cause she paused and was like, "Well.." She rubs her chin. "Not sing. Play, maybe. Just because I'm nice like that."
"Awww," I say, hugging her tightly, "Thankies, love. Ya don' know 'ow much it means ta me."
Noodle lets herself be smooshed in the hug. "Well," she says, "I'm doing it for you, not the song."
She points to the computer, reading the disk. "Two files," she announces, then looks at me, her face puzzled, "Is that, like, the even more acoustic version or something?"
I smile. It was a song I made without anyone knowing... and she will be the first to find out.
"Is that what you've been spending all your time on in your room?" she asks. I nod. "It's all computer?" she pressed. Another nod. Satisfied, she crosses her arms and leans back in the chair. "Alright. Let's hear it."
I click the track and press the tiny 'play' arrow. Silence, then a noise. It is a soft beeping, like raindrops falling. Noodle listens, arms still crossed, but it's easy to tell she's all ears.
I sit, awkward. What am I supposed to do, get up and sing along? And I can't start talkin' to her and explain the lyrics when they pop out. In fact, I heard the first lines in a dream, and I wrote it down because somehow I always end up with pills in my dreams and this one didn't have any.
Which was weird. There had been the Island and wind and something bright and something very shiny but it fell when I was close enough to see it and there was death. So I woke up crying.
Not screaming, not panting. Crying.
I hadn't said it was pleasant.
'Summer don't know me no more. Eager man, that's all.
Summer don't know me no more, just let me love in my sea.'
It was pretty. And it haunted me. And even sorta traumatized me. Like, when I woke up, I didn't want to live anymore. So I sat there for a few days and layed in my bed and then on the third day I was starving I got up and ate and the dream was still with me.
And I thought, God, I gotta do something about this. It's gonna kill me.
And then, when I wrote it down, it was gone. Totally cleared, and I probably would've forgotten about it if I hadn't been wanting to think about it.
Funny thing is, I had the dream the day Noodle came to the house. And when I was crying, a picture of her popped into my head.
A picture of her, screaming.
Guess I forgot to mention that, didn't I?
Anyway, the song had come to a close while I was thinking, but Noodle hadn't said a word. Not a single word. She sat in the chair, staring blankly at the computer, like it had reached out and smacked her.
"Noods?" I asked.
She looked at me in a sweet awe.
"That was really pretty," she said, a funny look coming over her, "It's sad..."
"Yeah, it's meant ta be."
"But isn't it a love song," she says, suddenly. Not a question. "A love song of someone going away. Is that not the point?"
"Yes," I say, "Of som'ne goin' away an' leavin' the otha one behind."
"Does it have a name?"
"No' unless ya count Track 2."
"I'll name it, "she stated, "...Manana. No... El Manana."
"Wha' does that mean?"
"The Tomorrow."
She stares at me.
"Maybe one day she'll come back."