To The End - Damon Albarn

6. Dinner

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the clock. I’ve got half an hour before I need to leave for dinner at my parents’ house. The nerves are gnawing at me, the pressure building like a wave that won’t stop swelling.

I’m not telling them, I say to myself for the hundredth time. There’s no way. It’s insane. Stupid. I can’t believe I even entertained the thought. Fake dating Damon? Telling my parents about it like it’s real? What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?

I take a deep breath and shake my head. No. No way am I doing this.

My parents are… well, they mean well. But dinner with them is always the same routine: they ask about my love life, I tell them there’s nothing to report, and they remind me I’m twenty-eight and should be settling down. It’s exhausting, but it’s also predictable. I’ve handled it before, I can handle it again. And tonight, I’ll just brush off the comments, same as always.

Standing up, I grab my jacket, telling myself it’s just a regular dinner. The same old conversation. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But as soon as I step out of the flat and make my way to the tube station, my mind drifts back to Damon. Damon Albarn, fake boyfriend. The whole idea is ridiculous. It’s not even something I would do, and yet, the thought keeps creeping into my mind.

I shake it off as I step onto the train. No. I’m not telling them. It’s not happening.

When I arrive at my parents’ place, it’s the same as always—my mum has her gardening gloves on, dirt smeared on her cheek, and my dad’s tucked away in his study, probably working on one of his short stories. The familiarity of it all calms me, settles my nerves.

"Lex, darling!" Mum calls from the garden as I walk up the path. She waves me over, a wide smile on her face. "I’m just finishing up these tulips. How are you, love?"

I smile back, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. "I’m good, Mum. How’s the garden coming along?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. The slugs are at it again, but I’ve got a new trick up my sleeve. Copper tape! Keeps them away, apparently." She wipes her hands on her apron and gives me a hug. "Your dad’s inside. Come in, we’ve missed you."

Inside, the house smells like home—warm and familiar, with the faint scent of Mum’s lavender candles mingling with the roast she’s prepared for dinner. I head into the kitchen, where my dad is already seated at the table, reading something on his old typewriter.

"Hey, Dad," I say, leaning down to give him a quick hug. He smiles, patting my hand.

"Hey, kiddo. How’s life treating you?"

"Same old, you know." I shrug, trying to keep things light. "How’s the writing coming along?"

He grins, always excited when someone asks him about his stories. "I’ve just finished a new piece. It’s a bit experimental. I’ll show you later if you’re interested."

We talk for a while, and it’s nice. Familiar. My mum chatters about her garden, my dad rambles about his writing projects, and for a moment, I’m genuinely relaxed. This is how it always goes at first. Just a catch-up. Normal.

But then, inevitably, the conversation takes a turn.

"So," Mum says as she clears away the plates, "you seeing anyone these days?"

I feel the tension creep up my spine, but I keep my voice steady. "No, Mum. I’m not."

Dad glances up from his typewriter. "Still single at twenty-eight, eh? That’s a bit odd, don’t you think?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Here we go.

"It’s not that weird," I say, trying to brush it off. "I’m just… focused on other things."

Mum gives me that sympathetic look she’s perfected over the years. "Sweetheart, you need to start thinking about settling down. You don’t want to be alone forever, do you?"

"Mum—"

"And what about grandchildren?" she adds, her voice turning slightly pleading. "Your father and I would love to be grandparents someday."

I feel the frustration bubbling up, my fists clenching under the table. It’s the same conversation every time, but tonight… tonight it feels worse. Maybe it’s because Damon is stuck in my head. Maybe it’s because the pressure feels heavier than usual, like I’m being suffocated by their expectations.

"I don’t need to settle down right now," I say, my voice a little sharper than I intend. "I’m fine."

Dad sighs. "It’s just… it’s time, Alexa. You’re not getting any younger. And you’re a catch! You shouldn’t still be single."

My chest tightens, the frustration building until I can’t hold it in anymore. I don’t even think. The words just explode out of me.

"I’m not single."

There’s a long, stunned silence at the table. My parents stare at me, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback.

Mum recovers first, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! Well, that’s wonderful, darling! Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Who is it? Do we know him?"

I open my mouth to backtrack, to fix this mess, but the words come out before I can stop them.

"It’s Damon."

The room goes deathly quiet. Mum and Dad both look at me like I’ve just said I’m dating the Queen or something.

"Damon?" Mum repeats slowly. "As in… Damon Albarn? The boy you went to school with?"

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh God, what have I done?

My dad’s eyebrows shoot up. "The singer? From that band you were always going on about?"

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound casual. "We… ran into each other recently, and things just kind of… happened."

Mum stares at me for a long moment before breaking into a wide smile. "Oh, Alexa, I knew you two would end up together! I always said it, didn’t I, dear?" She turns to my dad, who just shakes his head, looking bewildered.

"Uh… right," he says, clearly still processing. "Well, that’s… quite something."

I want to sink through the floor, disappear into thin air. What the hell have I just done?

The rest of the dinner is a blur. My mum keeps going on and on about how she knew Damon was a good boy, how she always thought we were a good match. She’s practically glowing with happiness. My dad doesn’t say much, but I can tell he’s in shock. Neither of them question it, though. They’re too happy to care.

I push my food around my plate, barely eating. I can’t believe I said it. I can’t believe I lied about dating Damon Albarn to my parents. How the hell am I going to keep this up?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, dinner ends, and I make a hasty exit.

"Call us soon!" Mum calls after me, still beaming. "And bring Damon round for dinner sometime, won’t you?"

I mutter something that sounds like agreement and rush out the door. The second I’m outside, I let out a long breath, feeling the cold air hit my face.

As I walk back to the tube station, my mind is racing. Why? Why the fuck did I say that?

I have no idea how I’m going to fix this.