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Big Girls Don't Cry	By : HellsFunnyHome Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Gorillaz Views: 1326 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Damien Albarn and Jamie Hewlett are the true owners of the Gorillaz. I don't know, own, or make any money from them. I also don't know any characters from the band Gorillaz. This is a creation of pure fiction, made up from my own mind.

Chapter List
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Titi- Vlad's nickname for Vicky. Pronounced tee-tee (or tea-tea), short for tía, meaning aunt in Spanish.
If you see Spanish, following immediately by English, then it's the translation of what was said. Don't worry, people don't usually repeat themselves, it's just a writing tactic for languages.

Vicky's head snapped up, hearing the familiar sounds of a blade rotating at over 100 mph. The sound could be located right above her, but her sight was blinded by the powerful Chicago summer sun. Placing her hand above to shield her from the glowing orb, she was finally able to see the passing advertisement floating among the few white tufts of clouds.
"Titi Vicky!" Came the young voice of her nephew, who ran along the sand, jumping at its' heat. "Look!" He yelled excitedly, nearly tripping as he shoved his bucket of sand into Vicky's arms. Inside the pail was a common earth worm, swimming in the lake water.
"What is it?" Vicky asked teasingly. "Is it a monster?"
"No! It's a worm!" Vladimir corrected happily, staring at the wriggling creature that tried to burrow into the sand at the bottom of the plastic bucket. "He's messy, right Titi?"
"Yup. Super messy." Growing bored with the simple animal, Vicky asked the child to go play in the water while she went to get something to eat.

Making her way back from the car, her hands full of fruits and sandwiches, Vicky glanced to the place she had last seen Vladimir. Strange… He wasn't there. She furrowed her eyebrows, cupping her hands around her eyes to clarify her vision and help her find the little boy.
All too suddenly, Vicky's heart rate shot up and she dropped the contents in her arms. Her legs carried her quickly onto the sand, paying no mind to the burning sensation shooting up her soles.
"Vlad!" She rang out desperately.
Where was he?!
The cold water hit her calves, freezing her to the core for the briefest of seconds and, not having realized she was already in the lake, Vicky pushed past the scattered people, asking them mentally to help her.
"¡Vladimir, bebe!" she yelled out in Spanish, through habit.
A piece of floating wood hit her stomach and immediately the plank became Vladimir. He was only three for fuck's sake, where was he?! Tears sprung out of Vicky's deep brown eyes, trying to convince herself there was no way Vladimir could be in the water.
Her constant movement had clouded the lake, making it extremely difficult to see just what was in the beyond when she plunged into the depths of Lake Michigan. Blindingly, she reached out, hoping to find her lost child.
In what seemed like a miraculous moment, Vicky heard the indistinct voice of her nephew screaming what sounded like her name. She quickly arose from the water and strained her ears, trying to find where the voice was coming from. If possible, the adrenaline began pumping even harder at hearing the tiny cry until she was angrily rubbing the water off of her face. Was it the lake or her own tears? She wasn't quite sure; the water was just immensely irritating right now.
This was exactly the kind of thing she didn't want to happen, she though as her legs forced their way through the strenuous water and back onto the sandy shore. She told Lizzy that leaving Vladimir with her was a stupid idea. Vicky was just not meant to have children with her. Who leaves a three-year-old on the beach by themselves?
Her eyes continued to scan the immense beach when well-known little arms wrapped themselves around her legs. Without missing a beat, Vicky picked up the crying child into her arms, inspecting him over and over to make sure he was alright. "¿Qué paso? What happened?"
The boy calmed slowly regained his breath, hiccuping every so often, as he tried to speak with his aunt. "A-A seagull stole my wor-worm." He hiccuped. "I went to go ge-get him but then I went too far!" He cried into her arms.
Vicky felt a strange feeling at hearing his explanation. Her worry all of a sudden became anger; anger at the little boy for being so innocent, anger at her cousin for leaving her with so much responsibility, but mostly anger at herself for agreeing to take Vladimir and thinking she was even remotely capable of caring for the child the way he needed to be cared for.
"What?!" She put Vladimir firmly on the ground. "Listen to me." She scolded, making sure he was looking her. "Never run off like that! Especially for a stupid bird! What were you thinking?! You could have gotten lost or, worse, hurt!" The fear on his face was killing her, specifically because she was the one causing it, but for some reason she couldn't stop herself. "¿Entendés? Do you understand? C'mon. We're leaving." She bent over to grab their things when she saw Vladimir sit in the sand and start crying.
"I don't wanna go!" He yelled. "I wanna stay at the beach!"
"I said, we're leaving. ¡Apuráte! Hurry up!"
"No!"
Vicky, ignoring the fact that he was crying, went to grab Vladimir's hand but he yanked his arm back, swatting her hand away. Angrily, she dropped their things once more and bent to pick up the child; difficult as it was while he threw his tantrum. With one arm firmly holding him close to her, Vicky struggled to throw everything onto the large open towel. She was finally able to awkwardly carry her nephew and their things back to the car, where he put up more of a fuss when she buckled him into his car seat.
"Ya, calláte. Now, be quiet." She scolded once more, though it did no good.

Less than an hour later, Vicky was sitting behind the wheel of her car, feeling calmer than she had when they had left the beach, but a hell of a lot more guilty. She turned the car off, and moved herself over to face the little boy who had apparently cried himself to sleep. Who was she to take out her frustration on him because of her mistake?
It was disturbing, to say the least, the image of his peaceful face with red tear stains trailing down his fleshy light-brown skin. Vicky slowly reach back to wake him, but brought her hand back to her, deciding instead on getting out and waking him through close proximity. Vladimir's eyes opened slowly and he rubbed his runny nose when a snort came out as he tried to breath. Vicky smiled remorsefully, grabbing the bottom of her shirt to let him blow his nose.
"You awake buddy?" A gentle and soft voice asked.
Vladimir didn't respond, but looked at her as if to see what she was going to do next. Like she needed the look to make her feel any more ashamed of herself.
"Look," Vicky took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn't have done that. I was wrong. But I was worried."
"Why?" He asked, looking more curious than anything now.
"Because I was scared that you might've been hurt or lost." Her voice explained slowly. "Do you understand?"
Vladimir's normally content gleam returned. "Yeah, you were scared I got lost so you got mad!" He answered happily.
"I wasn't really mad…" Vicky tried to correct.
"You sounded mad." Vladimir furrowed his eyebrows.
"I was,–" her voice trailed, through the inability to explain herself to the little boy. He wouldn't really understand why she would take it out on him when she was actually mad at herself. "Listen, let's just say I was really worried," Vicky bit her lip "–and sometimes grown ups sound mad when they're really, really worried."
"Ohhhh."
Silence intruded their conversation, but now there was a more agreeable air to it. Vicky felt remorse and anger at herself, but at least it was a little bit less than before and Vlad seemed to process nicely what she had told him.
"Whadaya say we go inside? I'll give you a nice bath and then we can do whatever you want." God, Vicky felt like she was trying to make peace with an emperor or something.
"Legos?" Vladimir asked excitedly.
"Yeah, sure. We can play with the Legos." She smiled, thinking to herself how quickly an innocent mind could forgive.

It had been a very long day. A very long day indeed. So when Vicky was positive little Vladimir was sound asleep, she made quick work to pour herself a glass of wine and grabbed her cigarettes. Having strayed from her battle with the cancer sticks, she figured today she deserved one for what she'd been through.
Vicky's hands slowly opened the glass doors that led to her porch, careful not to make a sound and wake Vladimir. It'd be really awkward for him to see her smoking, not an image she'd like to plant in his head.
It wasn't long before the dark and heavy smoke filled her lungs, making Vicky cough from unfamiliarity. A sign she was getting used to notsmoking perhaps? Whatever the case, she was happy to indulge this once. She brought the deep red liquid to her lips and closed her eyes, taking in the sounds of the mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood. Not the best, but it had definitely become her home these last four years.
Her eyes opened at the sound of a car beeping, loud speakers playing Héctor Lavoe's, 'El Cantante'–not an uncommon sound in these parts–which trailed away with its' owner. More music filled the air, a mix of the many Latin beats, people laughing and yelling out to each other. Vicky had moved into a very lively neighborhood that, luckily, didn't mind how she would listen and observe but not participate in their joyous disposition. It was a nice way to relax, just listening and breathing.
In the street below her, Vicky saw a man whistling up to the apartment two doors down from hers, slicking back the long hair that only grew at the nape of his head and calling out the name of a woman. His lover. He was here to apologize for one thing or another, hoping to take her out to El Coquí, for jibaritos and beers. A walk in the immense park, to join a larger group where they would stay until 5 in the morning, dancing and just enjoying life.
Or at least, that was the image Vicky had made for them. For all she knew they were actually a pair of siblings in a feud over the lands left over by their deceased parents. He was here to demand his share of the inheritance, but she refused to give it to him because she knew he would sell the land and she refused to see their parent's legacy be bought and sold like a mere toy.
A self-soothing chuckle escaped past Vicky's lips, only to be followed by nicotine-infused-smoke making it's way inside her charred lungs. It wasn't exactly what she had envisioned for herself, but for everything that had happened, all those events she had tried to run away from... CYSO, Kong… Murdoc… Vicky took a deep breath, the alcohol seemingly bringing her back to a place she would rather not visit. For everything that she had experienced, this was a good life.
"¡Oye, nena! Hey, girl!" A voice across the street caught Vicky's attention.
She smiled and waved, having gotten used to people staring at how obviously she people-watched. So it was no big deal when the crowd of people called out to her, not the first time it happened, wouldn't be the last.
The group that had called out to her began moving towards another part of the neighborhood, maybe to a party of some sort. To celebrate someone's birthday by getting completely shit-faced. Maybe they'd wake her tomorrow morning, singing in the streets in their still drunken stupor. As it turned out, it seemed as if they were forgetting a friend. Vicky's eyes stayed with the remaining stranger, whose face she couldn't see. Maybe he didn't want to party? Maybe he was waiting for someone else to show up to escort them to the festivities his friends were already leaving for.
Vicky exhaled slowly, letting the smoke build up in the darkness of the night, the white cloud swirling into a cornucopia of interesting shapes and designs. Though, when it cleared, through her peripheral vision, Vicky swore the man was staring at her. A quick double take and suddenly, she found herself staring at… someone with a mask. And how it terrified her, with it's glowing red orbs for eyes, and crow-like features. Like those masks doctor's used to use during the bubonic plague. But who the hell wears those things these days?
The covered face startled Vicky, forcing her to turn away, but when she felt confident enough to look back, he was gone. Poof. As if he disappeared into thin air.
Gone.
A cold shiver ran down Vicky's spine, her hairs stood at an end, and her breath hitched. Wasting no time, Vicky hurried into her apartment, making sure the glass doors were locked and pulling the large, heavy curtains closed.
Her head felt dizzy, she gripped the top of her head. Shit… Reminder to never buy that brand of wine again. Though it was probably the mix of wine and smoking a cigarette after not doing so in a long time. Yup, that was it. She was seeing things. Placing the dirty goblet into the sink, she'd wash it tomorrow, and she went to check on Vladimir. He was still sleeping, dreaming away without a care in the world. Vicky smiled, maybe she wasn't that much of a screw up. Maybe she could do this, have the boy for two months and care for him like a mother would.
Vicky frowned and turned to her own bedroom, she had to stop doing that.
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Big Girls Don't Cry