<< An AU in which Murdoc's first band, Two's A Crowd, hadn't failed, and had gone on to the success Gorillaz would have gotten. >>

"Thank you, goodnight!"

Murdoc hit one final chord on his bass and posed in the traditional rock star fashion. He stayed there as the full sound of a crowd of cheers hit his ears, and as sweat poured down his face. The cheers turned into chants.

"Two's A Crowd! Two's A Crowd! Two's A Crowd!"

This was, like at every concert, Two's A Crowd's cue to leave.

He took a towel from a table backstage, as well as one of the complimentary bottles of water. Usually, he would've opted for whiskey or rum. But a two hour concert with an encore song was no joke. Regardless, Murdoc would likely wake up with what he referred to as "vocal chord hangover".

"Nice job, guitars!" He usually just grouped Billy Boy and Tiny together in this way. It prevented him from having to use their ridiculous nicknames. It also kept him from sharing his real opinion: that a band with one stellar guitarist was far better than a band with two okay ones.

He patted Crunch affectionately on the head and mumbled condolences. The encore had caused their drummer to "crunch" one of his cymbals.

He would've spoken to Rocky, but the groupies were already throwing themselves on their keyboarder. Murdoc found it ridiculous. He was a pretty face, arguably, but on the inside, he was just a nerd who, out of all the badass instruments in the world, had decided on a keyboard.

As their bassist and screamer-in-chief, he had a fan meeting in a few minutes. He went through a tunnel in the back, so as to avoid the screaming fans. Several varying posters were peeling off the tunnel wall, everything from Justin Beiber to The Dead Kennedys. He smirked in satisfaction at the fact that Two's A Crowd would soon join them.

He emerged through the door and sat behind the wide meet-and-greet table, satisfied by the cacophony of cheering. Security restrained then all into a single-file line, and Murdoc waved to signal that fans could start coming up. The first was a man with blue hair and blue eyes, carrying a girl no older than eight in his arms. He'd be surprised that someone so young had a daughter, especially one that old, but another look at them made it obvious they weren't related by blood.

The man slapped a concert T-shirt onto the table, flashing him a smile with no front teeth. Murdoc saw his own face splayed across the front and signed he shirt in silver Sharpie.

"Your daughter looks nice. Did she watch with you?"

The man blushed. Murdoc figured he wasn't expecting to be acknowledged. "Oh, well, yes. I got two tickets in a radio competition, and it'd be a crime not to bring little Noodle here. She loves you guys."

"Is that so?" He flashed a sharp-toothed grin. "Want me to sign something for her?"

"Oh, yeah!" He fished a kids-sized shirt out of the bag at his side. It was identical to his own. How cute.

Murdoc slapped his lopsided, messy signature on it and handed it to the girl himself. She gasped and hugged his arm, and her strong grip didn't break for about thirty seconds. The fans all laughed, saying "Aww" and snapping pictures.

The man's phone beeped. "Oh, that's probably my husband," he said casually. "Sadly, he's not as much of a fan." He chuckled and patted the girl's head. "Daddy Russ is such a stick in the mud, isn't he? Anyway, it was... an honor to see you in person, Murdoc."

Murdoc joked, "Come back any time."

As more fans filed into the now empty space, neither Murdoc or his fan would ever know what could have been.