Rock the casbah (Damon Albarn x reader)

The Sound of The Crowd [UNEDITED]

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Saturday 11th April 1995, 01:00am
Alex James' flat,
Oxford,
London
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I didn't know how I ended up here. I was sat in Alex's flat with a lot of people I didn't really know. I could recognise Alex, who was with his girlfriend. Graham was there as well, and Jarvis. There was a few others I didn't recognise. Brett Anderson from Suede was skulking in a corner. Justine Frischmann was there too, somewhere.

Damon was eying me from across the room, staring at me, watching me. I could only meet his eye for a moment, I knew I had a ridiculous grin across my face. I could feel my cheeks hurt but I couldn't stop. I didn't feel fully real. Kaleidoscopes danced across my vision as I looked at the wall, like a clear sheet of patterns layered between me and the room. I couldn't stop touching my knees. I looked over to Alex, and he was grinning as widely as me. He laughed at me and I laughed back. I tried to roll a spliff. The weed and tobacco seemed to be crawling. I stared at it, struggling to comprehend what I saw.

40 mushrooms was too many, I think. Especially with people I don't really know.

"Need a hand there love?" Damon asked. I was surprised that he spoke to me. His girlfriend's presence had reduced us to a polite hello and a suitable distance apart. Now he looked me in the eye as he spoke.

"Umm, yeah, the weed is moving and I can't really handle it at this very moment."

"Pass it here," he told me, laughing slightly, leaning forward and taking the unfinished joint from me. Damon was stoned as fuck but he hadn't taken the shrooms that me, Alex and a few others had hoovered down like chips after a night of drinking. I stood up quite awkwardly, my body feeling strangely light. I climbed over a few people to make my way toward the door to the corridor. I felt an incessant need to run my fingers over everything, excited by all the textures in the room. I drifted my way down the corridor, noting the records and books that were organised neatly on shelves, as opposed to my own messy flat. A lot of the books were French. I remember that being a particularly relevant bit of information in the moment. I was looking for a place to be alone, but once I got there I was almost certain it would freak me out too much.

I turned a right into a small bathroom and sat myself down on the edge of the bath. I stared at the walls, which were white. The white provided a perfect backdrop for all the patterns. Although the music was playing from the other room it filled my head as if I was plugged into the sound. I closed my eyes and felt as though I was falling through entire psychedelic worlds. I was disturbed by a door creaking open, and I looked up quite quickly. Alex James came through, crazy grin on his face still. I tried to focus on his presence but I was having visions of eyes and mouths dancing in patterns every time I blinked. I couldn't stop wriggling my toes, moving my foot round in circles in time with the music. I watched my hands, making them tremble, fascinated by it all. Alex sat down on the bath mat in front of me, cross legged.

"Are you okay? You aren't having a bad trip are you?" Alex asked, voice void of concern, as if he was asking to make sure I wasn't ruining the night. I nodded at him distractedly. "Come and sit on the floor with me then," he told me, patting the floor next to him. I appreciated the friendly gesture, even from the man who's face currently seemed to don the swirling patterns of a lava lamp to me. I shifted myself down next to him and he put a friendly arm around my shoulder, squeezing me into him.

"I've always liked you, (Y/n)," he said cheerily. "Where was it we met? That's right, the party for Music Maker."

I smiled at him, feeling entirely accepted. The happiness I felt seemed unable to be decreased in this moment. I felt a swell of love for all my friends.

"What can you see," I asked him, my eyes wide with interest. "I can see eyes everywhere."

"Really? That sounds a bit scary to me."