life it sucks sucks sucks so much
A silly stupid thing commissioned by my friends. Damon and Pete are emo, featuring Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler.
"Life, it sucks," murmured Pete as he stared into the bottom of his beer glass. Kate Moss had just dumped him for the twenty-eighth time that month. He was bummed.
"That's a Graham song," moaned the bloke two barstools away. Pete looked over at the limp figure in ratty clothes with bad hair. Damon Albarn.
"Ew," said Pete. "I don't like you very much."
"Soz," said Damon who had spent a lot of time on the internet that morning stalking Graham. "I really am. I didn't mean all that about 'Make Doherty History.' I was having a bad day."
"omg, s'okay," said Pete who had also spent a lot of time on the internet that morning. "I was having a bad month."
"Year," corrected Damon, who was down with the kids and knew what was going on. "You'd been having a bad year."
"Two years more like it."
"It all went downhill when you left The Libertines."
"Didn't mean to."
"That's bullshit, you knew what, and when, you fucked up."
"I miss Carl," said Pete and put his face down on the bar. "I really do."
Damon put his face down on the bar as well and looked over at Pete. "I miss Graham too."
"E-mo," snorted the barman. "Get out of my pub."
"Ugh," said Damon. "Would like to come to my place? I don't want to be alone right now."
Pete clasped Damon's hand and looked deep into Damon's eyes. "Of course I will," he said, voice tender. "I don't want to be alone either."
There was a newsstand outside the pub and as Damon paid the bill, Pete wandered out to see who was in the NME that week.
"OH NO!" he gasped. "Graham and Carl!"
"What?" shouted Damon. "What?"
"They preformed together!" cried Pete. Damon put his hands to his mouth. "No!" he whispered.
Pete showed him the picture. It was not a very flattering photograph of either man, but Damon still felt his eyes well up with tears. "I miss Graham!" he moaned. "He was always so photogenic when he was with me!"
Pete hugged Damon. "I miss Carl! He was always so photogenic in my bed!"
"E-mo," said the man running the newspaper stand. "Get your grubby hands off my NMEs and get on with you."
Pete and Damon wandered back to Damon's flat, holding hands and sighing.
Damon did not have very many chick-flicks. Nor did he have chocolate, or for that matter, proper alcohol. "What kind of bachelor are you?" said Pete, disgusted, finding a box of two-year-old Cadbury eggs. "No chocolate, no alcohol that isn't white wine, and no girly movies?!"
"Graham took all my girly movies one day before he left," said Damon. "He said they were 'inspiring.' And later he came back for the chocolate too."
The two men sat in silence for sometime until Damon snapped his fingers. Pete fell off the couch. "I know who we can get all those things from!"
"Who?"
"The Tears, my good man! Old friends of mine in my britpop heydays!"
"You were a britpopper?"
"I was in a band before Gorillaz, you know."
"Oh, that's right. I remember now. You did 'Roll With It', right? I love that song."
Damon almost cried as he picked up the phone. "I did 'Country House.'"
"Sorry," said Pete looking very put out. "I liked that one too. Who are you calling?"
"Brett and Bernard of course."
They waited with bated breath. Brett, always a prompt answer-er of phones, picked up after the first ring. "Brett Anderson's Booty Calls, 24/7. I've got a lovely young man by the name of Bernard Butler just waiting for your cock-"
"Brett!" shouted Damon. "Brett, it's me man! It's Damon! Stop trying to pimp your guitarist!"
"Oh. Damon." There was a very long pause. "I heard from Justine awhile back, you know."
Damon sighed. "I'm sorry about cheating on you with Justine, Brett! I really am! But that was over 10 years ago! Anyway, may I borrow some girly movies and chocolate and alcohol? I promise I will return all of it but the chocolate and alcohol."
"I don't know, you did break my heart. . ."said Brett uncertainly. There was a slight scuffle on his end of the phone and Bernard picked up the phone. "Don't listen to him Damon, just come over. Brett's having a low self-esteem day."
Damon went over his balcony and opened the doors. "The easiest way," he explained to Pete, climbing up on a table he'd set out there, "to get to Brett's is up the side of the building. He lives right above me! I always know when he's shagging Bernard."
"How?" said Pete as he followed Damon outside.
"They only ever play Dog Man Star when they're shagging," said Damon, hoisting himself up on to the balcony of him. Pete climbed up on top of the table and peered over the edge of the balcony. Damon banged on the glass door.
"Be careful not to fall," Damon warned.
"I won't," said Pete, very nearly losing his balance. "Hurry, please? I feel ever so down."
Bernard opened the door and Damon disappeared inside.
An hour later, Damon reappeared. Pete was lying on the floor of Damon's apartment, pitying himself in the dark and singing a pipe song.
"Drugs are bad," said Damon immediately. "What are you doing on the floor?"
"You were gone and I felt emo," said Pete.
"Oh honey!"
Damon gave Pete a big hug. "Our guitarists, best friends, soul mates, near-brothers and lovers might be gone, but at least we've got each other!"
They watched chick flicks for the rest of the evening. Pete learned to love himself and the gaping hole in Damon's heart was filled somewhat. Brett and Bernard eventually joined them for a rousing singalong to Spice World.
"Girl power!" said Brett.
The End.
"Life, it sucks," murmured Pete as he stared into the bottom of his beer glass. Kate Moss had just dumped him for the twenty-eighth time that month. He was bummed.
"That's a Graham song," moaned the bloke two barstools away. Pete looked over at the limp figure in ratty clothes with bad hair. Damon Albarn.
"Ew," said Pete. "I don't like you very much."
"Soz," said Damon who had spent a lot of time on the internet that morning stalking Graham. "I really am. I didn't mean all that about 'Make Doherty History.' I was having a bad day."
"omg, s'okay," said Pete who had also spent a lot of time on the internet that morning. "I was having a bad month."
"Year," corrected Damon, who was down with the kids and knew what was going on. "You'd been having a bad year."
"Two years more like it."
"It all went downhill when you left The Libertines."
"Didn't mean to."
"That's bullshit, you knew what, and when, you fucked up."
"I miss Carl," said Pete and put his face down on the bar. "I really do."
Damon put his face down on the bar as well and looked over at Pete. "I miss Graham too."
"E-mo," snorted the barman. "Get out of my pub."
"Ugh," said Damon. "Would like to come to my place? I don't want to be alone right now."
Pete clasped Damon's hand and looked deep into Damon's eyes. "Of course I will," he said, voice tender. "I don't want to be alone either."
There was a newsstand outside the pub and as Damon paid the bill, Pete wandered out to see who was in the NME that week.
"OH NO!" he gasped. "Graham and Carl!"
"What?" shouted Damon. "What?"
"They preformed together!" cried Pete. Damon put his hands to his mouth. "No!" he whispered.
Pete showed him the picture. It was not a very flattering photograph of either man, but Damon still felt his eyes well up with tears. "I miss Graham!" he moaned. "He was always so photogenic when he was with me!"
Pete hugged Damon. "I miss Carl! He was always so photogenic in my bed!"
"E-mo," said the man running the newspaper stand. "Get your grubby hands off my NMEs and get on with you."
Pete and Damon wandered back to Damon's flat, holding hands and sighing.
Damon did not have very many chick-flicks. Nor did he have chocolate, or for that matter, proper alcohol. "What kind of bachelor are you?" said Pete, disgusted, finding a box of two-year-old Cadbury eggs. "No chocolate, no alcohol that isn't white wine, and no girly movies?!"
"Graham took all my girly movies one day before he left," said Damon. "He said they were 'inspiring.' And later he came back for the chocolate too."
The two men sat in silence for sometime until Damon snapped his fingers. Pete fell off the couch. "I know who we can get all those things from!"
"Who?"
"The Tears, my good man! Old friends of mine in my britpop heydays!"
"You were a britpopper?"
"I was in a band before Gorillaz, you know."
"Oh, that's right. I remember now. You did 'Roll With It', right? I love that song."
Damon almost cried as he picked up the phone. "I did 'Country House.'"
"Sorry," said Pete looking very put out. "I liked that one too. Who are you calling?"
"Brett and Bernard of course."
They waited with bated breath. Brett, always a prompt answer-er of phones, picked up after the first ring. "Brett Anderson's Booty Calls, 24/7. I've got a lovely young man by the name of Bernard Butler just waiting for your cock-"
"Brett!" shouted Damon. "Brett, it's me man! It's Damon! Stop trying to pimp your guitarist!"
"Oh. Damon." There was a very long pause. "I heard from Justine awhile back, you know."
Damon sighed. "I'm sorry about cheating on you with Justine, Brett! I really am! But that was over 10 years ago! Anyway, may I borrow some girly movies and chocolate and alcohol? I promise I will return all of it but the chocolate and alcohol."
"I don't know, you did break my heart. . ."said Brett uncertainly. There was a slight scuffle on his end of the phone and Bernard picked up the phone. "Don't listen to him Damon, just come over. Brett's having a low self-esteem day."
Damon went over his balcony and opened the doors. "The easiest way," he explained to Pete, climbing up on a table he'd set out there, "to get to Brett's is up the side of the building. He lives right above me! I always know when he's shagging Bernard."
"How?" said Pete as he followed Damon outside.
"They only ever play Dog Man Star when they're shagging," said Damon, hoisting himself up on to the balcony of him. Pete climbed up on top of the table and peered over the edge of the balcony. Damon banged on the glass door.
"Be careful not to fall," Damon warned.
"I won't," said Pete, very nearly losing his balance. "Hurry, please? I feel ever so down."
Bernard opened the door and Damon disappeared inside.
An hour later, Damon reappeared. Pete was lying on the floor of Damon's apartment, pitying himself in the dark and singing a pipe song.
"Drugs are bad," said Damon immediately. "What are you doing on the floor?"
"You were gone and I felt emo," said Pete.
"Oh honey!"
Damon gave Pete a big hug. "Our guitarists, best friends, soul mates, near-brothers and lovers might be gone, but at least we've got each other!"
They watched chick flicks for the rest of the evening. Pete learned to love himself and the gaping hole in Damon's heart was filled somewhat. Brett and Bernard eventually joined them for a rousing singalong to Spice World.
"Girl power!" said Brett.
The End.