hey jude

Perched cross-legged on the table, she’s goblin-like, Puck in the forest, poison-eyed, dagger-grinned, a bubble of gum at her lips and a battered anthology on her lap. It’s interesting enough to the grotty parts of her, the parts that stay awake listening to podcasts on Ted Bundy, or shoot the dying flesh of a fledgling bird to splice into her documentary, but she brushes it off with a scrunch of her nose rendering her careless and fickle once more. “If you love human bodies so much, why don’t you fuck one?” Bridget licks her thumb to turn the page, a smudge of black left on the corner, stills from Annie Hall in black and red on white. “Fuck Woody Allen. Honestly, fuck that guy.” She means it, too. There’s venom in her stare, fishnet knees bouncing restlessly against the desk. “Do you know how many straight white dudes on my course are like oh, you can separate art from artist, blah blah, I wank myself to sleep every night thinking about lesbian porn. He married his fucking daughter, Andrew, you dozy cunt.”

Jude was not expecting that response but her reaction wasn’t filled with surprise but more of curiosity as to why the other woman’s thoughts immediately went there. “Because I’d rather not fuck Woody Allen.” She merely replied, not sure if the other would even hear her as she began in on a rant. When it seemed the other girl was finished, Jude just blinked up from her own book. “Perhaps you should tell Andrew that.”

“It’s not the seat in particular. It’s just being able to sit in general, you know? It’s nice. Vital to my survival,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Right. Swimming pool. Should just set one up in the middle of the fucking living room.”

“Well I feel that it is more than likely that you would be able to find a seat even if you got up for a little while. Though your dedication to your survival is quite noble.” Jude hummed before shaking her head. “Oh no, I’ve seen parties where they did that with a kiddy pool and it was not a good time.”

“Exactly. It’s a dated practice,” he said, though he didn’t really have any strong feelings on the topic at all. He just knew he wouldn’t take that over anesthesia when it came to open heart surgery. “Well, it’s alright. Maybe you’re meant to be a writer. Get those thoughts out on paper, or whatever.”

“Yes, but then again so was using leeches.” She offered with a small smile and a shrug. “Deciphering what is and isn’t good is hard. I think I would make a terrible writer though. It would all come out a jumbled mess that people wouldn’t understand. How about you? What are your big dreams?”

Mimi grinned at the girl’s willingness. “Well, come in then! Strike a pose, any pose! And feel free to use this on your resumé so you can book similar gigs.” She circled the room, taking in Jude’s appearance. Pausing at the record player, she called: “Do you have a music suggestion? I’m working for you now, see.”

Jude laughed as she stepped closer, appreciating the other’s aura. “I’m not sure how extensive of a resume I could build but I’ll keep that in mind.” She hummed as she thought about the options. “Anything from the 60s if you have it. Do you normally pull your models off the street?”

❝ YEAH, I GET what you’re saying but i still don’t know how i feel about the practice as a whole. i believe in recent clinical trials the evidence showed that people felt the same effects from the fake acupuncture needles as they did from the real needles and, well, to me that shows that acupuncture’s just a powerful placebo; i don’t think that’s a bad thing though. if it helps people then that’s great but i just don’t think that it should be marketed as having a legitimate therapeutic value, y’know? ❞

Jude smiled at the other and nodded. “That’s often the case with a lot of medicine as well. Show’s how powerful the brain is. Perhaps instead, a fake acupuncture practice should be opened for a much cheaper cost.” She nodded, “I see what you are saying, medicine is one of the hardest places for lines and definitions to be determined it seems. But if it helps people in the end like you said, then I guess it’s good in the end most of the time.”

« you’re  NOT  lame. at least, you don’t get bored of words on paper. some people option for flashy headlines about the kardashians, readily available on their snapchat stories. » hooking her pen between pages of her notepad, sloane straightened her back in attempt to shake off the fatigue sitting heavy on her shoulders. she had the tendency to turn night into day, only to regret it in the morning.  « that would never work here. people are more scared of acupuncture than they are of antibiotic resistance. »  she mused, directing her tired gaze to meet jude’s. « ancient medicine has always proved itself successful. they recently used all these different chemicals to replicate bear bile and got a heart pumping or something. » relaxed, her eyes momentarily sunk to the ground. pulling off her ring, she smoothed her fingertips across the ridges. having something to fidget with helped her FOCUS. « have you ever gone under? »

“Oh no, I get bored of those snapchat story things so quickly. I also think most of them are just fake with no real stories behind them.” Jude chuckled. “Oh you’re not wrong at all. That’s a whole other can of worms in which I would like to fight people.” She hummed before her eyes widened. “That sounds absolutely amazing.” At the question, Jude nodded. “When I was a kid I broke my leg so terribly they had to have a surgery so they put me under for it. But that was the only time. What about you?”

if anyone had the brilliant idea to crack open her skull to take a peek inside, a single fez monkey would be obnoxiously smashing two brass cymbals together. it wasn’t that she purposely wanted to be an asshole by droning out of the conversation, halle was simply too tired to pay attention in that moment… even if the subject was rather interesting. “that’s so cool.. tell me more.” the brunette echoed back emptily, the strawberry ends of her digits mindlessly drawing shapes on the table they were seated at while they waited for their lunch to be served. “hey, be lame, kid.. no one is judging you for wanting acupuncture instead of anesthesia when you get heart surgery done.”

Jude looked at the woman and shook her head. “I-uh.” She could catch the other actually didn’t want her to continue. “I never said that’s what I wanted. I just. I think it would depend on what the doctor that was doing my surgery was experienced in. Um, you can pick what we talk about if you’d like.”

❝ THAT’S PRETTY COOL, i think i’d still prefer to be put under, though. being awake during that would just freak me the fuck out. plus i’m pretty sure acupuncture has no scientific evidence to support it and i ain’t about that life. ❞ now this is a topic that toto can definitely get around. ❝ lame ? i don’t think you’re lame at all. you seem interesting at the very least, and interesting is good. now tell me, do you belive in acuuncture despite it being classified as a psudeoscience ? ❞

“I mean you wouldn’t feel it and they could block your vision so you couldn’t see.” She offered with a small smile. “But I could understand being cautious considering it is your life.” Jude chuckled. “I believe it in some aspects given the way it can be used but in general in the United States it can lean towards pseudosciencey if that makes sense.”

“Not sure I’d trust fuckin’ — acupuncture in open heart surgery,” Benji replied, brows furrowing as the girl quickly backtracked over her words. He hadn’t been thinking much of it and he quickly shook his head in an attempt to reassure her that it was fine. “You’re good,” he said. “Facts like that are interesting, anyway. Everyone thinks so.”

“Well theoretically acupuncture is older than anesthesia in some ways.” She offered with a small shrug before chuckling. “I wouldn’t say everyone. Maybe a small percentage of people. But unfortunately for me they’re constantly popping up in my head.”

“True, but then I’d have to stand and risk losing this seat,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders. “What kind of situation would that even be? Is there a cold version of a hot tub?”

“Oh well I didn’t realize how important a seat was to you. My apologies good sir.” Jude teased lightly before chuckling. “I think a swimming pool would be considered the cold version of a hot tub. As long as it’s not heated.”

“Yeah?” Teddy asked, mouth full of chocolate pudding as he raised a brow at the blonde sitting across from him in the cafeteria, “Y’know who also did that? Dr. Meredith Grey of Grey’s Anatomy fame. Check and mate. Got you there, China,” Spooning another helping of pudding into his mouth, Teddy reached forward with his free hand to tilt the book forward in Jude’s grasp, reading exactly what she was babbling on about, “I literally couldn’t even get through the title I got so bored. You like that shit? You’re way too pretty and blonde to find this boring stuff cool.” Waiting a beat, Teddy let out an aggressive, “Ha!” droplets of chocolate spreading across the table, including one landing on the book the blonde was reading, “Oh, woops. Anyway… I was kidding, but I guess this whole thing isn’t helping my situation right now.”

Jude’s eyes were wide as she watched the man in front of her like she was watching a documentary on wild animals. “I’m pretty sure China was doing it before a fictional doctor on TV.” She teased lightly before smirking. “And what type of thing should I be interested? Dresses and finding a husband?” Jude questioned, as she used her sleeve to wipe the chocolate off of her book as much as she can. The freshman chuckled. “That depends on what exactly you’re hoping to come from this situation because overall you theoretically could be doing worse.”

“You say that like there’s a chance that I wasn’t going to bomb it in the first place,” he said, followed by a small bout of laughter. Quickly picking up his stuff from his spot, he slumped down in the spot next to the petite blonde. “I’m Turner,” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out towards her.

“Hey there’s always a change. It just might be a very small one.” She teased lightly as she offered her own hand. “Jude. It’s nice to meet you Turner. I assume you’re not a geology major.” 

“Hey!” Frankie called out, gesturing to someone she recognized wildly from the corner she was standing in at the house party, a mess of flailing arms. Once he got over to her, she looped her arm around a man standing next to her, giggling as she did so. Frankie’s plaid skirt was just a little too short, it’s black color something Rachel Green would wear if she went goth. “Um, this is Ryan. He told me he once fucked a watermelon. Isn’t that fascinating?” She asked, with wide eyes, unicorn sticker stuck under her eye glinting in the flashing lights of the frat party, something she had childishly stuck on like an accessory. Her brown eyes were pleading with the person in front of her to get her out of there, smile strained.

Jude’s favorite thing about parties was people watching. The way bodies moved and the way people interacted. It was fascinating. Like watching a TV show in real life. That is until she heard a shout in her direction. Her eyebrows raised as she vaguely remembered the other from a class. She tried to hold in the burst of laughter that wanted to escape her lips but some of it made it through. “That is absolutely fascinating. But the problem is I know a lot of watermelons really well and they said he was absolutely terrible at sex so like maybe you need to go try to do better at fucking a watermelon.” She pointed out to the man.