The dim glow of Kong Studios was comforting in a way, even though the walls were lined with peeling wallpaper and mysterious stains that no one dared to question. Outside, the wind howled through the broken windows, carrying whispers of past lives and forgotten riffs. Noodle sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch in the studio's lounge, tuning her guitar with a practiced precision. She watched quietly as 2-D scribbled disjointed lyrics into his notebook, humming faint melodies here and there.

The air between them was casual, yet heavy with unspoken words. The kind of comfortable silence they'd grown used to over the years. But tonight, something itched at Noodle's mind—something she'd always been curious about yet never had the courage to bring up. Until now.

'Oi, 2-D,' Noodle said softly, breaking the stillness. Her voice, though gentle, startled him out of his concentration. He looked up, his wide, sunken eyes blinking slowly.

"Yeh, Noods?" he replied, his pencil pausing mid-word.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was crossing a line, but then pressed on. 'Can I ask you something… personal?'

He tilted his head, his blue hair falling messily over his forehead. 'Course, mate. Shoot.'

Noodle adjusted herself on the couch, suddenly feeling small despite her boldness. 'Why… why did you never get angry at Murdoc for… you know…' She trailed off, feeling a little awkward.

2-D frowned slightly in confusion. 'For wot?'

'For sleeping with Paula Cracker,' she finally said bluntly, though her tone remained soft, as if trying not to provoke any painful memories. 'Back when she was your girlfriend. He betrayed you. She betrayed you. I mean… anyone else would've lost it. But you didn't."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the silence now heavy with the weight of the question. 2-D stared at her for a moment, his lips slightly parted. Then, to her surprise, he let out a small chuckle—not bitter or forced, but genuine.

"Oh, that," he said, leaning back in his chair as if the memory barely scratched at him anymore. "You've been thinkin' 'bout that, eh?"

'Well… yeah,' Noodle admitted, frowning. 'I just… I don't understand how you didn't tear Murdoc apart for it. Or… I don't know, hold a grudge?'

2-D's smile lingered, though his eyes drifted off as if staring at some invisible point far in the distance. His fingers twirled the pencil absentmindedly. "It's not that I didn't… feel somethin', y'know? I did. Felt like rubbish, to be honest. Like someone stomped on my heart while playing the wrong bloody chord."

Noodle nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"But…" 2-D shrugged, "…I s'pose I just figured it weren't worth hangin' onto. Murdoc's... Murdoc, innit? A right piece of work, sure. But that's just who he is. Dunno if he even knows how not to muck things up."

"But he hurt you," Noodle pressed gently. "Doesn't that matter?"

"Oh, it mattered. Back then, leastways. But here's the thing, Noods…" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked her right in the eyes. "Anger's like… uh, what's the word… a parasite, maybe? If you hold onto it too long, it eats you up from the inside. Makes you bitter. Ugly. I… I don't wanna be like that."

Noodle's brows furrowed, her young mind trying to process the depth behind his simple words.

"So… you just let it go? Just like that?"

He chuckled again, this time running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Not just like that. Took time, yeah? A lot of thinkin'… and maybe a few too many pills." He smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I realized somethin'—holdin' onto hate for Murdoc, or Paula, it wouldn't make me feel better. It'd only poison me. And the music… the band… that's worth more than some daft grudge."

Noodle watched him, her heart feeling heavier the more she listened.

'You're… stronger than you look, 2-D.'

He laughed—an uneven, breathy sound.

"Nah, not strong. Just stupid enough to keep movin' forward."

The corners of Noodle's mouth lifted into a small smile.

"I don't think it's stupid. I think it's… admirable."

2-D blinked in surprise, then grinned bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Cheers, Noods. Means a lot, comin' from you.'

For a moment, the room returned to its warm silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Noodle felt like she'd uncovered a piece of 2-D she hadn't fully understood before—a depth that lay beneath his soft-spoken, zombie-eyed demeanor.

After a while, she broke the silence again.

"Do you think you've forgiven Murdoc completely?"

2-D tilted his head, pondering her question.

"Dunno, really. It's not like I keep a chart of it in me head, yeh? But sometimes, forgiveness ain't 'bout the other person. It's 'bout findin' peace in yourself."

Noodle nodded, tucking his words away like a treasured melody.

'You've got a good heart, 2-D.'

He gave her a lopsided smile.

'Thanks, mate. But don't tell Murdoc that. He'll think I've gone soft.'

They both laughed, and the sound carried through the halls of Kong Studios, blending with the creaks and wails of the building. Forgiveness, Noodle realized, was perhaps the most unexpected melody of all. And in that moment, she saw 2-D not just as the band's lead singer, but as its quiet, beating heart.