stories from the city; damon albarn

21- because we can

The following morning, Chloe woke up to find Damon Albarn in her bed and to see thousands of photos littering her floor. She slowly pulled herself out of his arms and stood up, tip toeing around the photos on the floor, trying to make her way over to the bathroom door.

He stretches, waking up, not feeling any sign of alarm, his hair was messily strung around his face and he grins looking at Chloe. "Thanks for being my nap partner."

"Nap partner?"

He shrugs "it's a new term. Now. What do the Erlich's do for breakfast? Do you have a chef flown in from the landing pad? What is it that you do?"

"Funny. But no. My dad usually makes eggs when we have guests. Or if you're lucky he'll cater something."

He grimaces "want to go out instead?"

She shrugs "Sure. I'm tired of eggs anyways."

He stands up and says "Let's go. I'm sure you've got a great recommendation up your sleeve somewhere."

He follows her out of the bedroom and down the winding halls, stairwell and whatnot, through the living room and down to the mud room, where Chloe slides on her worn out Hunter Rainboots and Damon puts on his shoes as well.

The rest of the house seemed to just be waking up as they dashed out, on the hunt to go find a newer and better tasting breakfast.

As Damon exited the house he looked at how it looked in the light. It was even more extravagant than he'd thought the night before. It really went to show how being famous had paid off for the family, and how a career spanning 30+ years was feeding them.

"My driver obviously isn't here. So we'll just take one of our cars."

"You can drive?"

"Of course I can."

"In London? You drive in London?"

She nods her head fervently. "You don't?"

"No! I don't even own a car. I taxi everywhere, well except when my manager has me sent somewhere."

"Then you'll like the garage. Maybe."

She leads him over to a building that he hadn't even noticed the night before, and my god it was huge. Even in comparison to the house a few hundred feet away.

As they slipped inside, Damon's eyes widened looking at all of the cars inside, some were insanely old and the others were brand new.

"What are you thinking? I was thinking the '66 Jaguar. It hasn't seen outside in a little bit."

"No preference."

She grabs the keys to the old vehicle and slides into the driver seat, pressing a button on a remote, watching as the garage opened right up, letting them zoom out onto the gravel path and eventually out of the gates.

She was definitely speeding.

"Are you sure you have a license?" He asks, slightly terrified of the girl driving the classic convertible.

"Of course I do. This was a gift for when I got my license."

"Right."

He watches as the roads seem to become even more of a blur, and eventually the car weaves into the actual traffic of London, and not the open roads they'd been experiencing on the outskirts of the city.

"Where are we going?" He asks

"Some lounge my dad likes. It's really quiet. I think you'll like it."

He'd been hoping for a diner type place, run down with good service. And now it looked like he should be expecting some 5 star experience.

Was he even dressed for that?

He was in his sweater, beat up shoes and baggy pants. Did he even have a wallet on him?

"Oh! Don't worry. They won't charge anything to your card. It'll go to my dad's tab. And he won't mind you getting whatever you want. It'll be okay." She shrugs, as if this was casual.

Then he realized that for her it was. He had spent the night in Maxis Erlich's mansion. And was now driving in his car to eat breakfast with his daughter.

Eventually, they arrived at the lounge, with Chloe climbing out of the car and tossing the keys to the guy standing at the booth in front of them.

Damon hesitantly slides out, feeling very out of place, seeing as the Valet was even in a suit.

"You look like Damon Albarn. It's better that way." She notes.

As they get inside, she figures out what table they're at before they get seated. And as he scanned the room, he could've sworn he was seeing shit. There were various celebrities and musicians scattered around the lounge.

Like people he'd grown up idolizing or seeing on his screen or in the paper.

And they were eating sausages. In the same place as him.

"Everything alright?" She asks pleasantly, scanning the menu and preparing her order

"This is insane. Do you know these people?"

She shrugs "Some of them."

He begins looking in the menu himself and decides on getting a simple order of pancakes, because what the fuck could go wrong there.

"It's really hard to remember that you're an Erlich. You know that right?" He admits

She grins "I get that a lot. But then again I don't do much to draw attention to myself."

"Why?" He questions

"Because I don't want it. And I don't want to screw up. Besides, being good at photography is my one niche. That's all I'll publicize."

These were the same people who had been arguing at Glastonbury, the same people who had been feuding, hadn't wanted to know one another. And now a year later they were eating breakfast as if nothing had happened.

They were forget it all types.

Beef or petty drama could be easily squashed as long as the rift was easily repairable.

Around twenty minutes later when the pair were knee deep into their meals, they were also lost in their own thoughts.

Damon was trying to figure out why he was here, or how or why he'd decided to go to the Erlich's last night.

Chloe was trying to figure out why she'd opened up to the man in front of her the night before. Especially since she hadn't liked him much.

They both settled on the notion that they hated and liked one another's company. And that it was probably bound to be like this.