#bridgetfm

LOCATION: outside aurora apartments (mid storm) 

                  CELL PHONE HEADCANONS  /  open.

                            incoming txt from  →   b roll 📽🍃 /  @bridgetfm

                       “   we're beat down fingers and we're beat down toes                                 and we're beat down singers in the beat down halls                                              but till time came back twice around                                                         oh,   are we so alike?  ”

                                 GLOCKENSPIEL  by  DOG IS DEAD

                                      outgoing text from 

soggy  [11:46 PM]:       yeah and fuck you, what about it

soggy  [11:46 PM]:       oh shit this is fr?

soggy  [11:52 PM]:       i’d tell them for sure 

soggy  [11:53 PM]:       i think maybe you’re overthinking this?  but if you’re not, who gives a shit if it doesn’t work out and your friends pity you?  if you don’t say anything then you’ll be left to wonder if it could have worked and not having an answer would probably feel shittier than being pitied.  

soggy  [11:53 PM]:       bridge you’re an ok friend, just a little batshit. anyone who ends a friendship with you over something like this would be a fucking idiot.

soggy  [11:54 PM]:       alas if it doesnt work out and you do end up getting really embarrassed, i’ll bring the kate gosselin costume wig for your cosplays

Unfamiliar hands frame the scene at near half-past two, clumsy and without practice, but with a perspective that’s more elevated than necessarily askew. Bridget’s camera is over-stated and clunky in Jude’s grasp, and they can’t help but think that it comes across as almost as pretentious as she does, a fact that has made them laugh more than once since meeting her earlier tonight. Maybe it’s weird, the feeling of inevitability, or maybe it just has more to do with the little tab they’d placed on their tongue over an hour ago than they’d like to admit. Either way, it’s starting to seem a bit like somebody turned off gravity, and as Jude studies her through the lens, they imagine her floating. Bridget in the sky with diamonds. That’s how it goes, right?

“I respect your artistic integrity when it comes to using this fuckin’ thing, but it’s a little inconvenient, don’t you think?” Although their words come off as crude, their tone is docile for the most part, teasing if nothing else. Jude leans against the tailgate of their truck and gently sets the camera down in the bed, bringing the joint already lit in their opposite hand up to their lips shortly after. They had set out to find aliens, but so far, all they seem to have found is a whole fucking lot of empty space. It feels vast, out here, in a way that’s borderline overwhelming. After spending basically their entire life in a major city, the juxtaposition makes them pretty uncomfortable. It’s been hard to sleep here in Roswell. Funny, because they remember it being hard to sleep in LA, too.