Gorillaz fanfic part 6 (should I use trigger warnings?)

Part 6

It takes about six minutes of coaxing for Noodle to say anything as she sits at the table, sipping some coffee.

            “We need to talk about that head you’re keeping in your room,” says Murdoc.

            “Don’t change the subject,” I sigh, “Also, what?”

            “It’s behind the screen. I feed it at night.” Her voice drops to a whisper in the dark and now I’m nervous. “I have his brain hooked up to a machine. I want him to sing on my song. His name is Shaun.”

            Yeah, like that’s not creepy at all.

            “I’m just having trouble coming up with a hook. Any ideas Murdoc?”

            “Guys,” I say. “We’re getting off topic.”

            An uncomfortable silence follows, but I feel like I’m being watched…

            “What do you want me to say? I’m fine.” Noodle sounds fine enough, but no healthy girl would have stick-legs like that. I know she’s small and everything, but they must have fed her as a kid. To be a super soldier. I—

            “You are not fine.”

            “Stop telling me what to do, Semi.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “This is somehow my fault isn’t it?”

            “So, did you notice anything?” I ask again. “Murdoc?”

            “You’re not scared of me anymore?”

            “I’m—conflicted.”

            “Ah.”

            “It’s been three months too.”

            I turn around and look behind me, 2-D’s eyes now a paleish-white, gleaming dimly. “I noticed. I just didn’t say anything.”

            “Noticed what? That she’s skipping meals apparently?”

            “Yeah. I noticed a lot. She didn’t like the toast I made.”

            “I’m—I’m sorry! Your toast was fine, I just—”

            “Oh dear.”

            “What is it, Murdoc?”

            “It is my fault. I almost forgot, what happened three months ago.”

            “What happened three months ago?” asks Noodle, “I don’t remember.”

            “You must remember. When you came in late with that girl from the gig? I didn’t want you to end up like 2-D with a lousy girlfriend.”

            “She cheated on me with you,” interjects 2-D.

            “Yeah, and Russel broke my nose for it. Five times.”

            I don’t know. This whole thing makes me uncomfortable.

            “And I got mad at you, Noodle, I threw a beer bottle at you and then—I called you ugly. And fat.”

            Oh, God.

            “Did Russel break your nose for it?” Asks Noodle, calmly. But I can tell she’s holding back.            

            “It’s not you. I guess.” Noodle shrugs and takes another sip of coffee. “I think I just wanted to look like the magazine models. Or Shaquira.”

            “That’s interesting.” I still don’t know what to say. “But it’s not important to look like them.”

            “But I’ll never look like them because I’m Japanese.”

            “And?”

            “And they said that White girls are prettier.”

            “Who said that?”

            “I don’t know…people.”

            “Don’t listen to them,” I say, “I grew up in Japan, there were plenty of pretty girls.”

            “Not me.”

            “Stop it.”

            “Well, I didn’t mean any of that,” says Murdoc, taking another swig of beer.

            “I know,” says Noodle, “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

            “Well you aren’t fat or ugly so you can stop skipping meals. And sleep would be good too.”

            “I’m 15, don’t tell me what to do,” says Noodle, turning her back on the table, “Any of you.” And without another word she bolts like a rabbit just saw a hawk. I don’t know what to say. I was just trying to help…

            “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you? About Paula? I got my comeuppance. It’s been like six years so you can stop.”

            “But—you were the one who brought it up!”

            “I don’t care who brought it up. We’re bringing it down!”

            “Do, um, either of you need anything?” I feel…heavy. I don’t know. All this baggage. I just want to escape it. I don’t belong anywhere. I just want to—“You shouldn’t tell him what to do either.”

            “SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!”

            I bite my tongue. Murdoc is clearly drunk, and clearly, I’ve crossed the line. I have to leave. My breathing gets faster again. I can feel my heart pounding as I stand up abruptly, still holding the beer bottle, hands shaking. What are you gonna do about it Semi? Start crying? Run? Throw it in his face?

            Murdoc is standing between us across the table. The silence is more than uncomfortable. I feel like I’m drowning. I can’t breathe. I barely can think. I’m going to scream, I’m going to—I have to keep it together for 2-D. Oh, God. He’s going to get it. Ex-drama isn’t fun. I would know, I—no, no, I can’t think about that. No. No. Not again.

            Aika is screaming now, I hear it, “Get off! Get off! Stop! Please, Korrin, please stop! Right. My dad’s other name. And his ex, Aika. Too young to be here, too old to care, too lost to forget. Of course, she’s here again. Another weekend hookup gone terribly wrong. I want to like Aika. I don’t like her. I pity her. She always comes back and I’ll never understand. But this is over the line even for her. “Stop it! I’m calling the police!” I hear her muffled screams as I turn back to my algebra homework, shuddering. I have to leave, I have to get out of here now. I have to think about what to do. There has to be somebody, somebody…

            “Maybe some things should be left in the past.” It’s very cold as Murdoc looks between me and 2-D now. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. “My father was abusive to his ex.” At least I’m honest. “But she kept on coming back. Until—”

            I desperately want to change the subject. Why did I lay all that in the open? 2-D looks at me, trying to say something with his opaque eyes. Maybe I’m just not smart enough, not connected enough to read in the dark. Maybe there’s nothing there except blank emptiness. But I refuse to believe that. If one of them were to say sorry. But it’s not their fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. Except whoever left me in a crashing helicopter. I need to know what happened, I have to—

            “Don’t ever mention Paula again, do you hear?” Murdoc snarls and comes closer holding the bottle up. I’m not even surprised. I’m not even sure if he heard me. Nobody would believe it anyway. Suddenly, I hear a ringing in my ears, growing louder and louder with cries of “Stop, Stop!” and “Aika!” I’m drowning in my own thoughts, memories, nightmares. Suddenly, it all snaps back into focus as the table begins to shake as Murdoc throws the empty bottle into the dark. I can barely see 2-D now, cowering in the corner, and shrouded by blackness. I’m going to disappear. I feel like I’m sinking now, into the blackness. The voices are silent now, except for one voice. “Don’t even pretend I was the one who cheated, she started it! And maybe I have a problem but it’s time to move on! And take your stupid apologies with you. You never would have worked out you worthless—

            Every horrible sound that’s been penetrating my brain comes forth as I begin to scream so loud that Murdoc looks up at me. Within my incomprehensible manic nonsense, I can’t even form words. Not that it would matter if I could. Words can’t express what no one could ever understand, the thoughts, the nightmares, the demons I live with every day of my life reminding me at every turn that I’m a mistake, I shouldn’t even be here and nobody wants me that I’m drowning and worthless. I can feel myself moving across the cold floor now, I can’t even think about the germs. “Come on, come on,” I hear myself shouting as I’m standing now, in front of 2-D. “Do it, throw the bottle, do it, do it!” I hear myself laughing manically as I jump up, as Murdoc, seems to be oblivious to my existence somehow, all the hatred focused on 2-D, I can see it in his eyes. He seems to see through me as he aims, not just one, not two, but every bottle on the table, maybe five or six. It’s a storm of broken glass. It’s not hitting him, not hitting me, just gathering at me feet, and I relish it. I want it to keep coming. He’s almost halfhearted in it, throwing them, not caring where they land. I honestly, I truly have nothing else to say as I feel myself back into the shelf behind me. I can’t protect 2-D anymore, I can only protect myself or my dignity as I feel the entire thing come crashing down. My world.