Madferit: The Novel

Chapter 153

Author's Note:

            This chapter will reference 9/11. If that offends you, I'm truly sorry.

            Thank you for reading.

            After we got home, we kept our distance from people as best as we could. It was a lot easier said than done since Noel was still in and out of the studio and I was working at Ignition.

            I tried to keep things cordial with Emma. We had plans to visit our parents for our dad's birthday in a few weeks and neither one of us wanted to miss out on that. We could keep up appearances and save face for our family. We'd gotten so good at it over the years.

            Oasis began recording their next album which didn't have a name...at least not officially...yet.

            "Addie, where's me t-shirt?" Noel whined digging through all his shirts, parkas, and jackets hanging on the rack on his side of the closet.

            "Which one?" I asked.

            "The one...if you've nicked it, I'll...here it fuckin' is!" He pulled one off the rack, held it up, and straightened it out.

            "'The Society of Heathen Chemists'." I read the logo on the front of it aloud. "What's that mean?"

            "Dunno." He replied shaking his head as he gazed at it. "Seen it in Ibiza and thought it sounded cool so I bought it."

            "Oh."

            "You've not worn it yet?" He looked at me curiously.

            "Obviously not." I shook my head. "I didn't even know ya had it 'til now."

            "Good." He hung the shirt back up in the closet. "'Cuz we both know the rule is I get to wear it first then you get to wear it after. And since I've not done that yet, you can't either."

            Being back in the studio kept Noel away most hours of the day. But since I was working at Ignition, I was away at least part of the day too. There were times I wouldn't see Noel until long after bedtime when he'd crawl in quietly beside me.

            I didn't question him or go visit him at the studio. Making music made him happy. Kept him busy and more importantly, kept his mind off certain things.

            One night, he managed to make it home in time for dinner...but he was too fired up to eat owt.

            "That fuckin' cunt is gettin' on me fuckin' nerves at the moment!" He screamed as soon as I the rhetorical, "What's wrong?". "I ain't gonna be able to go to me own fuckin' studio now 'cuz he won't fuckin' sing when I'm there 'cuz it freaks him out! It's just like, fuck off! Y'know, either sing or don't fuckin' sing but don't do some fuckin' pastiche of the two. 'I fink I might sing today but I fink I'm not in a good mood.' It's like, who the fuck d'yer think y'are? Jim Morrison or summat? You're meant to be an untortured artist. Either shit or get off the fuckin' bog, man!"

            "So, what are you gonna do?" I inquired.

            "The fuck d'yer mean what am I gonna fuckin' do? I'm already doin' my bit. It's the fuckin' singer who can't be arsed! What's for tea?"

            I really needed to go to the grocery store but couldn't be arsed. Especially not with Noel being so in and out all the time. I preferred to just scrounge and if it was up to me we'd just have sandwiches for dinner every night.

            "So, what's he doin' if he ain't in the studio with you guys?" I shouldn't have continued the conversation while we ate but couldn't help myself.