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Summary
The days pass somewhat like this — they pore over the Post-it notes on the fridge, yet don’t come any closer to a fully formed song. Stu pores over the little tells in Murdoc’s words, yet doesn’t come any closer to a fully formed man.
(Before 2-D was Stu; before the band, a one-bedroom flat. The only thing Stu is sure about regarding Murdoc is that he smells of stale cigarettes.)