In which Trixie Holloway only ever wanted to have a good time, and Damon Albarn just couldn't help himself.
The wild nights, of the Party Professor and the Slutty Superstar, led to an academic in the newspaper for all the wrong reasons. Battling the...
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"Trix, I know you're not very happy with me right now, but could you come down here please? I'm getting slaughtered." Damon begged into the pay phone. "I'm on my way."
Trixie had fallen out with Damon.
The night before, everything had been plain sailing, they'd happily dined in and watched some Eastenders. Trixie had gone to brush her teeth ready for bed when Damon had appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, fidgeting with uncertainty when he blurted, "I think we should have an open relationship."
Trix had accidentally gagged herself with the toothbrush, spitting toothpaste across the bathroom mirror as she spluttered at his words.
"You what?" She coughed, scowling at him menacingly through the toothpaste covered mirror. "Before you bite my head off, it would never jeopardise us. I love you Trix, I do, I'm mad for you-" "But?" "I don't want sex to get boring, I know I'm not the best and it'll be better for the both of us." "You wanna fuck other women because you think I'll get boring?" Trix spat, growing increasingly frustrated with him. "No! If anything it'll make me appreciate you more, when I'm away from home and miss you more than anything, I'll be wishing it was you." He tried to reason, knowing that Trix would either agree to it or she'd break up with him - he was gambling his happiness just to boost his sex life. "Why can't you just wait?" "Trix, I went celibate for months for you and when you finally touched me I couldn't control myself." Embarrassingly recollecting the events of Glasto', "You deserve better than that."
Trixie knew he was trying to manipulate her, so she just glared at him and got into bed, not uttering a single word to him as he got in behind her, not when he muttered 'Trix' and certainly not when he muttered 'I love you'.
But she couldn't hide that she loved him back, that's why she was rushing down to the NME offices at his beck and call even when she couldn't bear the sight of him.
She waited outside the room she assumed him to be in, anxiously glancing at the clock every two seconds as if it would will time to go faster. She always got antsy when Damon was no doubt getting ridiculed by the people who his livelihood depended on.
Damon had been called into NME by Blur's record label, to discuss the prospect of a new album. It kept going backwards and forwards, with Damon telling them he was writing new material all of the time and the bosses telling him none of it was strong enough.
Trixie had to agree that none of it was strong enough to chart, but that didn't mean he couldn't create something that would. She remembered him getting excited about something he'd wrote that day at Primrose Hill but he hadn't done anything with it yet, thus proving that it wasn't album ready.
Trixie's hayward thoughts were interrupted by someone else joining her in the corridor, looking up she was shocked to see Howard Donald of Take That. Whilst Trix had now met her fair share of famous people thanks to Damon, none of it was the same as stumbling across someone she actually liked precursory.
