summer '91 // damon albarn x reader

VII. beer

31st of december, 1984.
9:03pm.
your house.

your pov.

"are all the drinks set? coca cola, pepsi tropical, corona, mineral water, quatro,.." mum continues counting all of the drinks she bought for the fest. "im positive we have everything!" she ends. i smile. its nice seeing her so excited. parties at our house usually meant that she can show off her cooking skills, decorating skills, and overall just-being-a-great-mother skills.

new years eve. how sweet. i can just lock myself into my room, but this time alone. with some beer bottles under my bed and damons fags under my pillow. i decided not to bore mum with any of the postcard bullshit, so i tore it and threw it out. like mum and dad would care anyway. i tried not to think about damon. but it was pretty much impossible. he was all over my walls, his belongings under my pillow. hell, even his blond hairs were scattered around the floor, from him sleeping on the carpet every now and then. maybe if i did end it with him, we could stay friends. like we were at the beginning.

"you seem to be in another world, the guests will be here soon! chop chop! light the candles, and fix the star on the christmas tree please!!" mum commands. instead of using matches, i used damons lighter to light the candles. i dont know why. i just wanted to waste it as soon as possible. i hide it in my pocket and i fix the star. "that seems to be about it. you were great help dear, ta!" she thanks me as i give her a soft smile and pull her into a hug.

the first car arrived. "okay, you just have to say hi to everyone then you can go to your room and listen to music or whatever you plan to do." she tells me. i nod. dad was still in the bathroom. quite embarrassing. i greet aunt may, uncle tom, cousin toby, grandma marleen, grandpa phil, neighbour helen, cousin cynthia, yada yada... boring. peace out losers. i go upstairs and lock the door.

i can already hear them downstairs laughing, joking, listening to music, eating. not a huge fan of dinner parties, i just eat the leftovers when its all over. i lie down, sigh. feeling of relief. cleaning the whole house is no fun sometimes. especially new years eve being on a sodding monday. disgusting. i stand up, looking for some sort of book to read, ah yes! dad bought me the wasp factory. dont think ill be able to focus with them being so loud downstairs, but it was worth a try nonetheless.

as i started reading the first chapter i hear a small sort of "click" sound, then again. then again. i stand up, and open my door, not really sure what it was, but no one was at my door. no one was knocking. i look through the window. that one boy with the brown hair, but the slightly shorter one. that damon hangs out with. why is he here!? on a fucking holiday? i open the window. "oi! whaddya want? arent you supposed to be with your family?! new years eve, mate!!" i yell out. "i dunno, just to hang, i guess." his rather quiet voice responds, i shrug it off and head downstairs. why not. he seems alright. and maybe he knows something that i dont.

there was a big crowd, so no one really fully realised i have gotten out of the house to fetch the boy in. but my mum has eyes with a built-in radar for boys, so she stopped me. "hello! why are you here?" she greets him. "oh, my party is just old... old... old... old women, so i knew y/n was here, just to hang out i suppose." he says politely. "ah alright, her room is upstairs, the first door you see, y/n, just stay here for a second, alright?" she asks me. oh god she doesnt think THAT does she?! the boy says a quiet "t-thankyou!" and gets going.

"uh, mum its really not what you think it is, id never do that. trust me. he just popped around i suppose. he seems nice. might make a new friend." i explain myself, she shrugs it off and smiles, letting me go. i enter my room, the boy is just standing there like a complete wazzock. i chuckle as i lock the door. "you know, uh, theres a bed there, a chair there, and you can pretty much sit anywhere." i joke around with him. he just smiles gently and sits on my bed. seems awfully polite. i sit next to him. "so, im y/n. welcome to the den! here we do our cult rituals by cutting our pinkies off!" i reach out to shake his hand, hiding my pinkie. he looks at my hand, then at me, a tad bit confused. i just flash him a toothy grin.