"What do you mean I only have two months before the foreclosure?!" I exclaimed into my poor cellphone. I was talking to the woman in charge of real estate for the apartment on Belmont street. I had managed to convince her that I was going to pay the whole thing in cash up front. I had already put in half of the money so that the deal would be legitimate. I was the best bid. But now she was telling me that if I didn't come up with the rest of the money fast, then she would give the apartment to another interested buyer.
Two months would never be enough time. I could feel my hand shaking as I gripped the phone to my ear. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. Have a good day." I whispered; my throat dry. I was about to set the phone down on my coffee table before it went off in a starling ring. Who could it be now? I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Running a hand through my hair, I noticed that the call was from my mom. I hesitantly picked it up with a sigh. "Hi Mom…"

"Hi, sweetheart!" Her voice screamed through the device. I had to hold it an inch away from my ear. "How's it going down there?"

Taking one look around my dilapidated apartment, I wanted to exclaim that I was living in a shit hole and that nothing could ever beat my cozy clean bed back at home. But of course I didn't. "It's going well."

That wasn't a complete lie. Despite the horrible news on my dream apartment, I was having a great time adjusting to California ever since I moved here two years ago, and Melanie was such a great support system. Plus, going to that festival last week had really brought my mood up— it felt nice to meet new people. 2D had been such a sweetheart.

"Well, that's great to hear!" She responded gleefully, "I want you to come back home to Townsville."

I nearly toppled over on my chair when I heard that. "What?"

The last thing I wanted was to fly all the way over there! Of course, it would be nice to see my parents but I was finally free from that place! All of the horrid memories from my childhood threatened to flood back in but I managed to block them out with some deep breathing. "Mom. Why?"

"I miss you, Vera!" She sounded sincere but there was something hiding behind that tone. I stayed quiet until she finally broke: "Okay, Okay; your father has been running for town office, and he's finally going to be inducted as mayor. I know he'd really want you to be there!"

I physically cringed. "Mom, I really don't have the time or money to—"

"I'll pay for your flight!" she exclaimed, full of hope. "Please…just come?"

The eagerness in her voice made my heart heavy. I know she really wanted to see me, and I knew how much my appearance would mean to my father; maybe it wouldn't hurt to go just for a few days? Plus, I missed them too. I let out a breath that I'd been holding in forever. "Okay. Alright. I'll go."

"Great! I'll buy your tickets and everything. Don't worry about it! I'll talk to you soon then!"

We said our 'goodbyes' and that was it. I was going back home to Townsville. I suddenly grabbed my keys and fled the apartment. I had to tell Melanie everything.

The next day I arrived at work with one minute to spare. Tonight was the concert at the Blue Monkey. I was able to get a ticket last minute before they all sold out. When I went to Melanie's house yesterday, I told her everything from the deadline on my future apartment to my trip back home, but I kept my mouth shut about this second Gorillaz concert. I wanted to go alone, and I knew if I said anything, then she'd want to come with me. Plus, I know she'd get a little jealous if I told her I was personally invited by the British boy. I didn't want to deal with any of that right now.
A puff of hot, hamburger saturated steam blew straight in my face just as I rolled over to the pickup counter.

"Morty, how can you stand this heat?" I groaned, grabbing two meal boxes.

The rotund chef snorted and wiped a string of sweat from his forehead. "Who said I could stand it? At least I can be around the sweet smell of burger." He smirked and flipped a sizzling patty.
I had worked for about five hours before I was ready to clock out. But before I did, I skated over to the Boss's office. Deep breaths. I hated talking to him, but it needed to be done. Knocking on the ajar door politely, I rolled in slowly. "Mr. Sorento?"
The older man glanced up from his laptop with an irritated look.

"Uh, sir, I'm sorry but I need to take some personal time off. Two weeks from now I have to fly home; family stuff. It would just be about four days off." My throat grew dry as he simply stared me down. "P-please sir?"

He slowly shut the laptop and arched his fingers chapel style. "Then you're going to have to work over time. Starting tonight."

Instantly my chest released its inner tension. He rarely gave those many days off. I couldn't help but smile, "Thank you sir! I'll start right away—"

Wait a minute. Overtime? Starting tonight? I froze at the door. Oh no, the Blue Monkey! The show started at seven, I wouldn't make it in time!

"Is there something wrong, Vera?" Mr. Sorento questioned in a bitter tone.

I couldn't push him even more so I just shook my head. "No, everything is fine." With that, I skated back to the pickup window. Maybe if I worked fast enough, he'd let me go in just a few hours. I'd still be able to catch the last bit.

It was 9:45 when I was finally let out. I had to only assume the concert was still going until ten. I threw myself in my car and zoomed all the way to the small rock house. I didn't even care that I still had my uniform on, it was too late to go home and change. The tiny venue was packed to the gills when I arrived, but not in the way I would have liked it. People were disembarking outside instead of inside. Don't tell me I missed it!
I ran up to the building, snaking through bodies of people and managed to sneak myself into the venue without even my ticket. The floor was nearly empty; all except a few stragglers that were excitedly waiting to grab the setlist when the roady peeled it off the ground. There were no band members or even leftover microphones to be taken. All that was left was the drum set and a guitar waiting in its case. I felt tears gather in my eyes. I couldn't help it. Today sucked. I was so excited to see my new friend 2D, but now he wasn't even here. I hated my job. If it weren't for that stupid job then I would have gotten here on time and had a fun night. I wandered to the side of the stage and plopped down on the stairs, resting my head on the support beam. Just as a tear fell from my eye, a presence emerged beside me.

"Hey-ya dollface, is that you?" The New York accent stunned my ears.

I quickly wiped away the embarrassing tear and glanced up to see Ace looming over me. He had no sunglasses on this time so his dark and naked eyes peered down towards mine.
Just great. I didn't need this jerk to see me crying.

"Yeah, it's me." I stood with a small frown. "And I was just about to leave." Just as I turned, he reached out and grabbed my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. He could see the shiny trail of the tear streaming down my cheek thanks to the stage lighting.

"You cryin'?" His voice actually sounded concerned.

I shrugged his hand away and spat, "No. Don't touch me."

He raised his hands innocently. "Hey, I see a girl in distress, I get concerned. Unfortunately, ya still turned out to be a bitch so…" Ace turned away to climb back onto the stage, but I quickly slipped ahead of him.

"Excuse me?! You're a real gentleman, aren't you? Why do you have to be so rude?" I swatted an accusing finger at him.
He looked up at me with indignant eyes that seemed to glow in the dark shadows of the stage wing. A few strings of his jet black hair hung out of place but he swiftly brushed them away. "If this is still about the stuff on the highway, I tried to apologize. Not my fault you keep a stick up your ass." Ace took one step up and suddenly he was towering over me. He smelt like sandalwood. "And again with the finger pointing—" his eyes slipped down to my jabbing finger of accusation that was still lifted towards his chest. "If ya don't put that little finger away then I'll—"

"You'll what?" I shot back, lifting my finger up to boldly bop his pointy nose.

He seemed even more irritated but at the same time, he grew a soft ironic smirk. Those eyes were staring into mine with silence until he finally replied, "Actually, ya look a bit familiar, dollface. We've never met before last week?"

"I highly doubt it." I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering if he looked familiar as well. But I couldn't pinpoint anything. We stood in silence for a moment longer, simply searching each other's eyes. The air felt thick and tense. I retracted my gaze when the sudden shrill of a car horn was heard from outside in the front. It was in this moment when I actually realized he had a gentle grip on my hand, the one responsible for bopping his nose.
Ace noticed as well, and as if he was in shock, he jolted backward running both hands through his hair. "Uh, I gotta get goin' sweet cheeks. I was truly graced by your presence." The last sentence held bitter and sarcastic undertones. The bassist limbered up onto the stage, reaching down to lock up his bass guitar in its case. The guitar was a white one this time with a few stickers on it. One of the stickers was green and read 'GX3', another was a skull and the third was a cartoon picture of three little girls— but I couldn't make out who they were as he shut the case. However, it was the 'GX3' sticker that struck a chord with me. I had seen that on one of his friend's jackets.
Taking a deep breath, I climbed up the rest of the small steps onto the stage. Trust me, I wanted nothing but to run out of there and go home, but I was curious. Ace shot me an irked glance but ignored me and started towards the exit door, case in hand.

"Hey, what does 'GX3' mean?" I asked, following him out the door. "Is it like 'G times three' or something?"

I could tell Ace was suddenly over the whole conversation thing as he sighed when I spoke again. But he still replied, "It's short for Gangreen Gang."
I gave him a funny look when I heard that but he kept his gaze straight forward. When we neared his black Challenger, he popped the trunk and carefully placed his guitar in.

"Isn't gangrene like a disease or something?" I questioned, raising an arched brow. What a strange name for a gang.
Ace slammed down the trunk with a huff and leaned on it, finally turning to look at me. "Yeah, but that's different. Our name is GanGREEN; like in the color?"

Still weird. "So you're really in a gang? Like a boy band?" I couldn't help but poke fun at him.

But he did not seem to be in the mood all of a sudden. "No, not like a 'boy band'. How come you're just full of questions now? I thought you couldn't stand me."

"I saw one of your buddies at the festival. He was wearing a jacket that said 'GX3' on it. Then I saw it on your guitar. So I was curious."

Ace simply ignored me and slid into his car, waking the Challenger up with a rev of the engine. I frowned slightly but went up to his rolled down window. "Can you tell 2D I'm sorry that I missed the concert? He's the one that invited me here tonight."

"Oh is that why you were cryin'?" He reached into his glove compartment and slipped on those obsidian glasses. "You missed seeing the Brit boy. You one of them fan girls or somethin'?" A judgmental grin grew on his face.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I wasn't crying!" That was a big fat lie. "And I'm not some stupid fangirl. I barely even knew about the Gorillaz before I saw you guys at the festival." And that was the truth.
I could tell Ace didn't seem to believe me as he threw out a light chuckle.

"'Kay, babe. I'll tell 'em, don't you worry." He slid down his glasses and winked at me.

I simply rolled my eyes and backed away from the car. "Why are you wearing sunglasses? It's night."

Ace pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "They help me see better."

I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He cracked a smirk and instantly zoomed off. He was so weird. I had never met someone so oddly complex in my life; one minute he's pissed off, the next minute he's all flirtatious, and then he's acting all weird. With a sigh, I made my way back to my car which I had to park in the parking garage a block over. It had quieted down significantly ever since I had arrived, so I was pretty much the only one out. As I neared the garage, I could hear voices in a distance and it sounded like they were coming from the alleyway up ahead.
I made sure to quiet my steps. Someone sounded like they were in distress as I heard, "Hey, I can't help you. Just let me go!"
My eyes widened. Was someone in trouble? My heart sped up as I inched towards the corner, right where the voices were coming from. I had to pass by the alley to get into the garage, but I had a feeling in my gut that was a bad idea. Bracing myself, I slowly turned my body in order to peep around the corner.
To my unfortunate horror, Snake tattoo guy from the festival and party was standing there holding another dude up to the wall sheerly by the neck. There was also a third person as well. He was the short one I had seen before wearing the 'GX3' jacket. Actually, the two were wearing the same leather jacket tonight.

"Don't lie to us, man. You know where he's being moved to." Snake tattoo guy hissed, tightening his grip on the poor man's throat.

The man squirmed, trying to pry the hand from his throat but continued to fail miserably. "I-I told you! I don't k-know!"

Snake tattoo guy frowned and suddenly threw the man to the ground. "Have at 'em, Lil Arturo."

Right then, the shorter guy, Arturo, grabbed the man by the shirt collar and decked him right in the jaw a few times. "C'mon man—c'mon, tell us where! C'mon!"

The man weakly raised his arms up to try to protect his bloody face. "Okay…okay! He's…he's being moved to—"

A rock was kicked out from my feet as I shot myself boldly across the open alleyway. Shit, shit. Did they see? I didn't look back and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. The only thing I heard was, "Hey, what was that?" But I just kept going until I got to my car, throwing myself in. I sped out of there right as I put the keys in the ignition.