"Murdoc?"

"Whadda ya want?!"

"You need to see this..."

Murdoc stomped out from his Winnebago, a towel wrapped around his waist. "This better be good."

"It's... p-pretty important." 2D was holding a celebrity magazine, crumpled up in a clenched fist. His face was flushed a light shade of pink. Murdoc snatched the tabloid from his hands and quickly scanned the front page.

Murdoc and 2D of Gorillaz on a date?! Details on page 19.

He angrily flipped to it, reading aloud.

"Gorillaz is the animation sensation that's gripping the nation: but could its members be gripping each other?" Murdoc had to giggle at that. Come on. "Murdoc and 2D were spotted at a movie premiere... where 2D was sitting on Murdoc's lap! These pictures were sent in by a loyal reader, and while they're dark and blurry, you can definitely make out the faces of the bandmates. This reader suspects discreet public sex, but another reader is calling bull! 'Oh, please. Not even Murdoc is that cocky. Maybe they're just in the closet or something and trying to enjoy a movie date. Were pictures necessary?' Others note the packed theater and lack of seats. What do you think? Tell us at..." Murdoc threw the paper down.

"Oh, come on, Murdoc, d-don't get mad..."

"I hate magazines." He stomped on it. "I hate the stupid reporters, I hate all the rumors..." He kicked the paper across the room. "But more than anything, I hate you!" He stormed out, being sure to slam the door extra vigorously behind him.

2D laid down on the couch, sighing. He doesn't mean that... yeah? He doesn't hate me.

Murdoc sat on the edge of his bed, scoffing. The magazines don't know anything. I don't love that... that idiot.

Reporters started eating up the false story. Soon, it was the biggest joke around the studio. But Murdoc and 2D weren't laughing. They shot glances at each other from across the studio, full of emotion. Anger, sadness, frustration... and something else. Murdoc locked himself up in his room and barely even talked to 2D unless it was a necessity. And 2D was more sad than anything: sad at the loss of a friend, sad at the... fake news.

2D couldn't take it anymore. He knocked on Murdoc's door, sighing and inhaling to relieve his nervousness.

"Come in," came the scratchy voice from the other side of the door.

The blue-haired man slowly stepped into the dark room, which was littered with clothes, books, and bottles (both the alcohol and prescription variety). Murdoc was lying on the bed, his face barely visible, the only light in the room being his phone and the booklight attached to the cover of some novel. He glanced over and groaned. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you..." He looked down at the ground, shuffling over to the bed and sitting on the edge. "This whole thing is... stupid..."

"You've got that right... I can't stand it. The media comes up with the most idiotic stuff..."

"... I don't understand why you haven't been talking to me, though..."

"I dunno, it's just..." Murdoc pulled the blankets up over his head, groaning. "It's weird, okay? It's not like it's a bad thing, I just... I don't like the media getting any ideas and being involved in our lives. I don't like the band teasing us about it. It just... it's not right."

Stuart laid down, his head barely on the edge of the pillow. "I know it's not... but we all care about you... I care about you..." He gently put his arm over the Murdoc-sized lump in the blankets.

"... I don't want them to say this stuff... like it's some outrageous thing."

"I get that..." Stuart moved a little closer, and feels long fingers run through his hair lightly, almost as if it was an accident. "You gotta come out though, okay? Wait-- I mean... you have to talk to us."

"This whole thing is your own stupid fault..."

"I know it is."

And with that, Murdoc wrapped his arms around the man and fell asleep, a faint smile on his lips.