A visious little plot bunny came up to me with a gun and said it'd shot my head off unless I wrote this, so I wrote it.

Now lets see, do I own the Gorillaz, NO! They belong to Damon and Jamie ant all those other wonderful people who aren't me. Shame. 'Sept for Ren, she's all mine.

"Two please."

"Two pounds den, ...thank ya." Ren took the coins that the teen girls passed her, watching them giggle as they squashed into their dodgem car. She flipped the switch and the cars jumped into life. Ren lent against the wall of her booth and closed her eyes, she listened to the fairground music, the screams of laughter and the hum of the machines.

She'd been working at the fair since she was thirteen, she loved it. She attracted a lot of boys, making all her mates envy her. But however much she brushed them off and acted the tomboy, she couldn't deny she was growing up. Everyone said she'd look a lot prettier if dumped her beanies and wore some makeup. But she loved her beanies too much to do that.

"Hey there."

Ren jumped at the sudden voice. She brushed her brown hair out of her slanted eyes with a pale hand. The boy in front of her was the best looking one she'd ever seen, black hair and olive skin. She tingled.

"Um, s-sorry we're jus' closin'." She mumbled, looking down.

"No, that's alright, I just wanted to find some food."

"O-oh," Ren tittered, "um, if ya 'urry the hotdog stand will still be open. It's ov'r there." She pointed.

"Thanks." He smiled, Ren felt herself redden.

"It's okay." The boy headed of and Ren counted the money and put it into a bag, she then closed the dodgems down and went over to the hotdog stand to see if the boy was still there. Unfortunately he wasn't and Bob, who worked there, reeled her in to help him close down his stall. Then they chatted for a bit, Ren only half-heartedly, until they got to their respective caravans, where they both called goodnight and went inside.

The fair was family run and Ren lived with her grandma. Bob was her cousin-once-removed-by-marriage and her grandfather was dead. But she knew next to nothing about her real parents. But that didn't mean she didn't try.

With direct approaches:

"Grandma, 'o were me mum an' dad?"

"Wot you don know won 'urt you." The old woman snapped.

"Grandma, please..."

"No! Now eat up, luv."

Something along these lines would go on for roughly ten minuets until...

"Okay, okay. Ya really want ta know, Yer dad's a dunder-head, with too many kids and ya mum's a jailbird. An' 'ere am I stuck runnin' a 'alf-way house for his no-good kids 'o ask me too many damned questions." That was all Ren ever got out of her.

The not so direct approaches would see Ren rifling through her grandma's personal possessions and draws in the vain hope of finding something, she never did until one day. She had her arm elbow deep in underwear when she felt a pile of pointy smooth things. She pulled them out to find a stack of envelopes addressed to her. They were held together with an elastic band, but before she had a chance to open one she heard her grandma coming in the front door. Ren shoved the draw closed and slipped out the back, grabbing her trench coat, that always hung outside because her grandma hated it.

She put the coat on, shoving the envelopes in one pocket. She had almost made good her escape when Jake, her half-brother, caught her.

"'Ey Ren, ya workin' tonight?" He called, waving her over. He, like her, was wearing a trench coat, but it was open at the front revealing all black clothes to match his boots and hair. He had multiple piercings in his ear and eyebrow and a fag sticking from his mouth, he liked to look scary, but he was the biggest softy in the world towards Ren.

"Nah, I'm goin' inta town, you?" They walked through the equivalent of the suburbs in the caravan village. Someone was having a barbeque and Ren was starving.

"Yeah, same."

"Do ya know 'o our dad wos?"

"Where'd that one come from, eh?"

"Just answer."

"Okay, 'ave it your way. Our dad worked 'ere fara bit, tha's where 'e met Mum, but I don' really know 'bout your mum. Sorry."

"Well 'o do ya think she wos." Ren held her hair away from her face and gave a big grin.

"An Inuit."

"Wha..." Jake grinned.

"Oh look, it's time for me to go." Jake headed of as he had just seen his girlfriend. Ren stood there like an idiot, still holding her hair from her face.

111111

Ren sat down with her hotdog stand and was about to go through the letters when there was a shout from behind her. She turned 'round to see a group of people she called The Druggies, a gang that Ren had a bad connections with due to her brother. She got up and shoved the letters in her pocket and started to run.

They followed her.

Ren ran past the posh boarding secondary school - the people there called her chav -, the old people's home - where the old grannies and grand-dads thought she was a juvenile delinquent - and finally came to a fence. The Druggies were almost upon her, Ren backed into the fence, feeling the cold wire mesh press into the back of her neck. On impulse she chucked her hotdog at them. Ren whipped 'round and attempted to scale the mesh, but she was pulled back by her collar and came face to face with the black haired boy she'd met at her ride a fortnight back, he had ketchup all over his face.

"Ya think tha' wos funny do ya? Well les see if ya find dis funny!" And he pushed her into the road, in front of an on coming car.

111111

He had done all he could for the girl, now, as he sat at the sofa across from her, all he could do was wait. He remembered the dull thud as he hit her, the rain pouring down as he lifted her into the back seat and when he got her inside and pulled off the heavy trench coat to reveal a long, deep cut stretching down her arm and oozing blood. He knew what to do now, he always knew what to do now, ever since ... ever since, well he just knew what to do now. He went to the mirror and looked at himself, he was different, lines etched on his face that shouldn't have been there for another 20 years. He picked up a photo that was in the mirror's frame, this was as close as he'd get to his family, the little girl playing on the beach. His daughter whom he'd never met. He knew the letter that the photo had come with off by heart. "Today Gwen met her hero. You should have seen how happy she was. All the way home she wouldn't stop talking about how Jonny Wilkinson played rugby with her on the beach. Then he asked weather her dad had taught her rugby, we froze, but then Gwen said 'You're me dad, 'cause ya taugh' me rugby'... He had cried after reading that, cried because he was non-existent to his daughter, a spirit, someone who was never mentioned. At that moment he saw the girl stir, at that moment something clicked, he held up the photo of the girl playing rugby with her hero. Still holding the photo he ran to the girl's side, a girl, who he was certain was...

"Gwen?" He whispered, touching her hair lightly.

Ren tried to focus on the person, a person who looked a lot like Jake, a Jake with blue hair and black eyes.

"'O are ya? An' 'ow do ya know me godforsaken name?" The man stared sadly down at her.

Then it clicked for her, she reached up a hand and placed it on his shoulder, making sure he was real.

"Dad..." And then they were hugging, 2D crying, Ren held tightly to him, never wanting to let her go. He touched her hair, her eyes, her arms... making sure she was real. After his tears had dried up he held her at arms length, looking at his daughter, her pale off-white skin, her browny brown hair, and her mother's eyes...

He was cut of by a punch in the stomach.

"Wot wos tha' for?" 2D wined, in a very 2d-ish way.

"For leavin' me for 15 years!" She hissed, starting to cry.

"Aw, don' Gwen," 2D said, hugging her, "anyways I had to leave ya."

"It's Ren not Gwen, now. An' why did ya go, ya didn't 'aveta."

"I did, yer mum wos inna lotta trouble with the law."

"Why?" Ren sniffled.

"Fer illegaly livin' inna country fer 7 years, an' um... well..."

"Wha' is it?"

"Fer avoidin' termination!" He spat out, then looked away quickly.

"Termination!"

"Don' talk 'bou it, it didn' 'appen an' I really don' wan' ta think 'bou wot could've 'appen'd if it did." He took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and held them towards her, "Smoke?"

"Occasionally." Ren neatly slipped one out of the packet and into her hand and got a lighter out of her trouser pocket.

They sat there in silence, taking the other in. Until Ren stubbed her cigarette out, half finished.

"All I ev'r wanted wos a family."

"All me an' ya mum ev'r wanted wos all of us to be a family."

"So 'ow long 'as mum got then?"

"5 more years."

"I'd be'er stop smokin'."