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The location of the meeting, full of instruments and vinyls and a stacked drinks cabinet, suggested it would be one of creative flourishings. The demeanour of the six attendees suggested otherwise.
2D, Russel, Murdoc and Noodle sat in that order, crammed onto one sofa, trying as hard as possible to look stern and professional. At least that had been the plan. Russel had sat forward to avoid crushing 2D between himself and the armrest, to which 2D had responded to the courtesy by hooking his legs up to his chest and shuffling far enough back that he was almost hiding behind Russel.
Damon eyed 2D’s shoes on his sofa. “You’re getting the bill if I find any dirt on that.”
With far more space, Damon and Jamie sat opposite on a sofa that was both bigger and newer than the one allocated to the band. Both men looked wary.
“It’s a lumpy bit of tat anyway, better off in the skip.” Murdoc shot back without missing a beat, more taking the chance to insult Damon rather than defend 2D. Murdoc was successfully maintaining a prickly yet casual stance, leaning far back with his arms crossed as he eyed the men sat opposite. It wasn’t his idea to be here; in fact, he’d been the one most staunchly opposed.
Jamie leaned forward, trying to draw attention away from Damon’s perennial frown. “So a comeback? That’s, uhhh… out of the blue, shall we say?”
“The time is right.” Russel stated, leaving little room for disagreement. “The world is falling apart and it needs a beacon of hope.”
“Most of it’s sketched out already.” Noodle added. “An album not there to provide answers, only one free of questions. Free of judgement. There’s people out there just trying to live their lives, and they’re getting attacked for it. That’s why we’re doing this. For them.”
“Oh, that’s why you’re doing it?” Damon remarked, slapping a hand to his own forehead. “I thought it was the ferry-load of money the E.I.A. paid you.”
Murdoc’s fists clenched. Noodle and Russel both prepared to restrain him, as had been rehearsed.
“Don’t be green, Damon. It doesn’t suit you.” Murdoc said as cooly as possible through gritted teeth.
“We thought you might have some time to make some of those sick music videos, Jamie, seeing as how those other projects you had going didn’t do as well.” 2D offered with a worried cheeriness from behind Russel’s head.
Jamie turned to 2D and blinked several times. Damon snorted quietly, causing Jamie’s head to snap to him.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Damon muttered with a smirk.
“Look lads, it’s simple, really.” Murdoc said, already keen on wrapping up. He pointed at both of them. “We need your camera, and your phonebook. Plus maybe that little studio that seems to house every instrument known to man. For those pithy little bits, you can continue receiving your grossly exaggerated share of the credit for Gorillaz being the powerhouse it's known for. Sound cushty?”
Damon flipped a cigarette into his mouth and handed one to Jamie, who took it without looking. The two seemed to share one mind in that moment.
“Won’t just be those bits though, will it.” Damon grumbled as he lit his cigarette.
“What do you mean by that?” Russel asked, suspicious.
“Well, you four do have a habit of, how do I put this gently, going off the absolute fucking deep end.” Jamie said, as Damon nodded along. “And it quite often requires one or both of us to get you out of whatever mess you’ve got yourselves in.”
“Excuse me?” It was the turn of Noodle’s temper to rear itself as she shuffled forward to lock eyes with Jamie. “First of all, I don’t know what you’re acting so superior for, Mr. Attempted Child Murderer—“
“Uh, I had no knowledge of any of that” Jamie cut in, waving her away. “That was proven in the Magistrates’.”
“-Second of all, any mess that he’s gotten us into,” Noodle continued as Murdoc turned to her with a frown, “We’ve gotten ourselves out of. We’ve never needed you to save us.”
“Are you joking?” Damon cried, also shuffling to lean forward. “I can count 7, 8, 9…”
He was counting on his fingers. Once he reached his maximum amount and still wasn’t satisfied, he nudged Jamie.
“Gimme your fingers.”
Jamie sighed. “Just say whatever number it is, you twat.”
“Jamie, give me your fucking fingers!”
“For Christ sake,” Jamie muttered as he handed his hands to Damon, who counted another six before holding up 16 total fingers to the band.
“16 times we’ve gotten you out of shit you’d still be in if it wasn’t for us! That bloody tour would be enough by itself!”
“That wasn’t our fault!” 2D squawked.
“Covering for you thick bastards each and every night! You know how many lyrics I had to learn last minute?”
“Poor you!” Murdoc spat, “It looked like you hated every minute up there!”
Three of the six attendees appeared close to coming to blows. Russel had to make sure that didn’t happen, just to avoid leaving empty-handed.
“We aren’t the enemy, guys,” He explained. “You got your cynical Brit image to maintain, I understand. But you like making great things. Doing great things. And you don’t have to admit it out loud, but you love mixing it up with us."
Jamie grabbed a beaten up notepad next to him and flicked through it idly.
“Look, of course in theory it’s viable for all involved to collaborate again,” He said as he read notes seemingly at random. “You’re a valuable property.”
“Like Mayfair!” 2D chirped.
“Yes, like Mayfair. Exactly.” Jamie derided, not looking up from his pad. “You’ve got a strong grip on a lot of good demographics. The parents like your messages, the kids like your style, and you-know-who is extremely popular with the lesbians.”
The band looked at each other.
Murdoc pointed quizzically at Noodle.
Noodle pointed quizzically at 2D.
2D pointed quizzically at Murdoc.
Russel rubbed his eye with his index finger, sighing.
“The only question I suppose I have,” Jamie continued, ignoring them, “is, are you four going to be on the same page?”
“Already are.”
“Like Dahl and Blake!”
“No need to worry.”
“Think so!”
They all turned to 2D.
“You think so?” Damon repeated. “Not 100%, are we?”
“That’s just how he talks!” Murdoc interjected. “Ask him to say yes and he’ll say probably!”
Damon hadn’t taken his eyes off 2D, who was starting to wilt under the gaze. “See, that’s not how I remember it. You had a fair bit of spunk when this all started.”
“He’s cautious, what’s wrong with that?” Noodle asked impatiently, “A little less gun-ho is probably good for us.”
“And it’s not like we actually need him for a whole lot beyond singing,” Murdoc added, “what does it matter if-“
“He can speak for himself!” Jamie snapped. Murdoc and Noodle shared a worried look, knowing any further interjection would harm their cause.
“What say you, 2D?” Damon purred, “Is this all gonna go wrong?”
2D fidgeted and glanced at his bandmates, who cast back varying looks of encouragement, trepidation and sympathy.
“Er…” 2D started, looking at his hands, “It could go wrong, I suppose. But I don’t think it will. Everyone’s having good ideas, it’s the best calibration we’ve ever had, maybe. But it would be better with you two. I’m worried my voice might be rusty, and I haven’t been on camera in years. Them lot, they’re asking for your help for me, to be honest. They could do it without you’s, and maybe I could too. But with your help, I know I could, y’know?”
His bandmates looked at Damon and Jamie. The pair looked at each other.
Damon shrugged.
“Well,” Jamie said with a sigh. “You’re more honest than these egotistical hacks, I’ll give you that.”
“Oi!” 2D belted as he sprang to his feet, startling the other five. He pointed at Jamie. “Don’t call them hacks, you pervy git!”
“Oh yeah?” Jamie jumped up and got in 2D’s face, “What’s your blue haired arse gonna do, eh?”
“He’s gonna watch while I wring your spindly neck is what he’s gonna do!” Murdoc snarled, popping up and shoving Jamie in the shoulder.
“And how you gonna do that with your own Poundland cubans shoved up your arse, huh?” Damon retorted, getting up and shoving Murdoc in response.
Noodle sprang up, “Who’ll be doing that, then, because you’ll be busy trying to get a melodica out of your windpipe!”
The five standing members eyed each other menacingly, each waiting for the first strike.
Russel sighed. “Ok…” he slowly got to his feet and stepped forward, between his band and their long-term associates. “When I say things, they actually happen. So I’m not going to. How about we leave it there. Let’s say you’ll think about it. Have your people call our people.”
“We are your people!” Damon yelled.
“Then have a word with yourself.” Russel said calmly, and ushered the band towards the door, eye contact breaking reluctantly.
Damon and Jamie stayed put as the band slowly departed through the door.
“What does Graham see in that guy?” They heard Noodle say as the door closed.
Damon went to the sofa and inspected where 2D’s shoes had made contact. Jamie sighed and collapsed back into a sitting position.
“Can you believe them lot?” Damon asked.
An exhausted puff of air was Jamie’s response.
“Tell ya, they’d be nothing without me.”
“Without us, Damon.” Jamie said, exasperated.