flower boy

    “So he’s the spa type.. I see.”  She stuck her tongue out at him, all stubborn like. Hopefully, everything would go well with his plan. “No, I’m just saying – you really look nice when you have your hair up in a bun. And yes, I’m dropping hints, damn it.” Letting out a laugh, Sophie narrowed her eyes having the best time considering their encounter was meant to be quick before they both turned to their little things. 

“You oily, go away -” Laughing again, their lips met and she couldn’t keep a straight face knowing they were both acting like complete idiot teenagers. Pulling back, she made sure not to touch him or let those oily hands anywhere near the envelope, “Let me know if it works, okay? Good luck, don’t drop any dumb jokes. Kiss ass and, you got this. Now go, quick, move it.”

Hair in a bun, he noted that. Sophie pushed him away and with good reason too, in the parting space between them, Jude noted the exasperated face of the receptionist, clearly wanting him back in the massage room but not saying much because he was a customer, after all. “Oh it better work. Short of sucking his dick I don’t know how much else I’m supposed to do,” he said with a chuckle, backing up to finally retreat back into the room, sensing that his boss may have woken up by now. Blowing a kiss, he backed up some more with a wave. “Catch ya later, Sodapop.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever gone to bed with an itchy asshole. Not that I can recall. And good luck with that, I don’t think anyone who’s gone into a screaming match with Gordon Ramsay has come out winning.”

     “Are you doubting the power of my homemade donuts?” Sophie asked, raising her eyebrow but her expression softened as soon as he reacted. Yeah, maybe he was right and he had to go big - but this? She had no idea if it could work so all she could do for now was to sit back and take in the view. “Casual-formal sounds great. Don’t forget to comb your hair, alright?” Her smile only lasted for a moment because as soon as they got caught standing in the waiting room with Jude having nothing but a towel wrapped around him Sophie felt like she was being rushed. And being rushed she didn’t like. 

Pressing her lips into a fine line, she didn’t bother to turn around and look at the woman who called out to him. “Uh, uh – I have to go.” She said with a disappointed voice; heart melting at his next gesture. 

He was a cute shit. 

“You know what?” Sophie murmured, stepping a little closer with a smile on her lips. “Call me when you’re done kissing ass, alright?” And with that, she leaned in, placing a quick kiss on his mouth.

"Not doubting their power over me, certainly, but he’s a different type,” Jude explained. With the man’s coke habit? Jude was surprised he ate anything at all. “Of course I’ll comb my— are you calling me unkempt?” he asked, trying to appear offended. The way he stood, oiled up in his towel, it was quite a look. A funny look. The woman was about to interject again, Jude could see from his periphery, but he raised a finger as if to shush her. 

Sophie leaned in to kiss him, careful not to touch the rest of him, and for good reason too. Then pulled away. “Wait—” He didn’t care if there was anyone else in the room with them, tugging Sophie in by the arm and going in for a longer kiss. “There. Now you can go,” he said with a chuckle. He didn’t hear anything more from the receptionist, but if he had to guess, she was just about ready to puke.

Pearl followed and smiled. “ I’ll work my magic on him and then I’m sure he will let me play on his drums until it gets so annoying that he will take the drum sticks off me.” She laughed. “ You got an album out ?” She asked as she walked alongside him.

"I’m sure he’ll give you a pointer or two,” Jude mentioned, smiling. Though they were usually pressed for time, today had been kind of a wishy washy, mixed-results day where not much had gotten done, so who cared if he interrupted their session with a stranger. “So I’m Jude, but you are...?” She had known his name, but he hadn’t gotten hers yet. Stepping through the front door, he made a beeline for the stairs down to the lower floor converted basement, mumbling for her to watch her step. “Uhh, it’s complicated. My old band, Voodoo, we had an EP out and some singles. They got a bit of airplay,” he said somewhat modestly. “Currently, with the Short Drops, we got one official single out, a bunch of old demos, and the album’s dropping in a week or two. Yeah. Big shit,” he added with a chuckle. “We’re just running through some rehearsals now.”

“Great, I went from your wife to your wingman,” she mutters. The beer goes down too easy, making itself known that had she continue and drink more than what was left in her hand, that she would lose control. But she was tired, and the night was long. She goes silent, eyes out the window and away from him. “Are we over the awkward shit now?”

"I dunno. Will we ever be over the awkward shit? Just cause we’re good right now, I’ll say something weird maybe, you’ll get that moody look on your face. But hey that was old Jude and Indi too wasn’t it — we were never perfect.” He was simply stating what he knew to be the truth, how they had always been. Fine and dandy one moment, stormy the next. They’d never known any kind of idyllic picture perfect peace.

“I hate cats. They’re definitely not for me.” He sighed, “I’ll think about it more, though. Thanks for the help.”

“Hate cats? Why on earth? That sounds spoken by someone who’s never had a cat really.” Jude was certifiably a dog person, but even he couldn’t resist the adorableness of a fluffy kitten.

                                 “Apparently three of these,” she said, chuckling under her breath. “Or maybe he just wished I did. He says he doesn’t trust people that don’t eat as much as he does, or at least almost as much as him, which…. well, it tells me he doesn’t trust very many people.” Her lips pulled into a wide grin, a laugh escaping them a moment later. “Sure, I would like that, thank you.” She smiled gratefully and followed the blonde.

"Well size is a factor in how much people eat, has he compared his and your sizes?” Jude said, throwing a suspicious look that said probably not. In a few very short steps they approached his parked black Audi, and Jude hit the keys to unlock. “Are you headed anywhere, by the way? I could drop you after this,” he mentioned once they were inside the car. A bunch of CD’s were stacked on the passenger side dashboard, which he reached for to toss in the back. “Don’t mind those.”

"Gold star for the Vaselines ref, buddy.”

"The queen of Coachella is Beyonce, so, y’know, if you’re claiming that...”

“Tell me it’s not just me.” He shifted in his seat, turning to the other. “If anyone asked for pictures of your feet, right in the middle of sexting, you would be weirded out, too, right?” he said, the phone in his hand clear evidence of what he was referring to.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a little weird. I mean, depends on how hot the girl was? I might just send the feet and carry on. Everyone’s into something a little weird, no need to be judgy. At least it’s not a poop fetish.”

“You know me best,” she says dryly, a disappointed glance down at her empty beer causes her to take the few steps back over to the fridge and take another one out. His words make her scoff, “Yeah, because I was afraid to be alone so I never did it but now I ain’t got shit to worry about. Ain’t gunna be my problem.”

He watches her move to the fridge, take another beer out, thinks of something to say about this, but holds himself back. “Well maybe bald will be my look. Who knows. You might be doing me a favor and just get more girls sliding in my DMs.” They weren’t particularly funny jokes, these ones. But he was trying.

             “A work thing? Jude, your excuses are the worst ever.” Sophie rushed to say but soon, it all made sense when he continued explaining the situation. “If you had told me, I could have brought some donuts.. if you’re kissing ass, you have to do it better.” She continued, making a face before cracking into a soft laughter. Letting him examine the envelope, the brunette could almost relate to Jude’s excitement if she wasn’t as nervous. Yeah, the big day was coming and all she could think about was about this chapter that was closing. “Of course I can, yeah.” She replied, “Don’t go all the way and wear a tuxedo, okay? Alex said something about signs - don’t even think about it. Dinner after the ceremony yes, then we’re going out. Make sure you charge your phone, alright?” 

“He doesn’t want donuts, Sophie,” Jude snorted, as if that suggestion was ridiculous. The man liked the finer things in life, not a $12.50 box from Krispy. “What signs?” he said, quirking a brow. “I won’t go full tux, don’t worry, just something casual-formal and nice,” he added with a smile. He prayed a certain someone wouldn’t be there, but even if he was, he’d make sure to sit as far off as possible. “Oh yeah, I’ll bring spare battery packs, I promise,” he said, just as he noticed the receptionist come back into the room. “I’ll be taking a million photos and shit after all.” 

“Sir, the reception area is for incoming guests,” she called out to him, after a clear look of displeasure on her face that said Jude shouldn’t be here. 

“Yes. Just one moment,” he said, shooting her an inauthentic smile before turning his attention back to Sophie. “I feel honored that you came to hand deliver the invite yourself. How old school of you. Thank you, Miss Daniels,” he teased, and with the free hand that wasn’t clutching his towel, he took ahold of hers and kissed the back of Sophie’s hand, all fancy like.

A smile pulled up the corner of his lips at the other’s words, about what had just played out before them. “Well, it does make for a pretty epic conversation starter.” Because seriously, when did that ever happen to anyone? “But technically, it was because of the guacamole. Not sure if that sounds much better though. I’d probably go with the naked guy.” At least in that way he’d be sure to catch her attention, right?

"How about both. Guacamole and the naked guy. Now there’s a story worth telling,” he said with a light laugh, and then nodding as if to say thanks, for the last remaining jar of course. “See ya around.”

“Uh…tall, always tired, all black. I dunno. It’s a weird thing to describe.”

“Yeah, I guess I see what you mean. A doberman would suit that kinda look very well. But you still gotta run after a doberman and exercise them and clean up their mega shits and all that, and sweating doesn’t sound very aesthetic to me.” Jude thought for a second. “How about a cat?”