JEWEL EYED JUDY

Track One: Jewel Eyed Judy

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INTERVIEWER: When did you meet The Six, and how?

JUDY: [laughing] High out of my mind.

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It wasn't a decision made irrationally, but it wasn't one made without defiance either. Judy forced her way out of bed, carefully spotting the uncovered areas of wood that made up her bedroom - a hoarder's wet dream - and hopped her way along.

One look in the mirror told her everything she needed to know. She'd clearly had a long night the day before, and she was even surer to have a longer day awaiting her now. Around her eyes were dark ringlets, giving off the appearance of a fucking raccoon, and a ghastly one at that. She picked pieces of mascara off her bottom lashes and tried desperately to rub some life into her skin, much to her displeasure. She held long, thick strands of matted hair up above her head, trying to run her fingers through them, only to let them fall back against her neck in defeat.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered to herself, before making a beeline for the singular set of drawers present in her room, drawing her hair back messily as she did so.

Working on the Sunset Strip, she knew appearances weren't everything. If you hadn't shown up to work still high from whatever you'd been doing the night before, you hadn't been working on the Sunset Strip long enough. Considering this, she realised her silver lining. At least I'm sober, she thought. Actually, she corrected, that's probably worse.

Being a waitress here was no fun. If you thought you'd had a rough one, there was always some customer ready to stumble in and slur their order to prove you wrong. And that's why, at the flicker of a lighter, her day was going to change forever.

With some half-assed outfit that consisted of yesterday's halter top and some shorts, she headed to her shitty paying, shittier treating, workplace. Ed's Diner, the words outside blazed, even in the glaring sunlight. How she loathed the place. With gritted teeth she walked through the front, being treated with indifference from every customer and every server at her appearance.

Her short supply of weed kicking in, she could hardly care, and she'd gotten use to the apathetic and self-centred attitudes of the wannabe rockstars and washed-up groupies of the Sunset Strip long ago anyway.

Which is why, when approaching the first table of the day, she might've come across as a bit... off.

"Hey," she blurted, and continued with a slight slur of disinterest, "Anything I can get you?"

All the faces seemed to blur together as several pairs of eyes pierced her skin. She could make out, just about, tufts of blonde and brown hair - some curly, some straight - and differing clothing aesthetics. What she could tell, however, that this was definitely some group that thought they were the shit. Or, at the very least, one or two of them did. It radiated around the group like a blanket, that aura of you're beneath me.

Or maybe that was just the weed. She couldn't really tell what was going on.

And - Christ. She scrunched her eyes up against the light of the sun. Had it always been that bright?

I can't see shit, she thought. Fuck me, who wants what?

With murmurs of replies, some 'no's and 'just a coffee, please', they seemed to care even less, completely enamoured in their own conversation. Groaning internally, she spun on her heel and made her way around the counter, rubbing her eyes an obscene amount of times in an unsuccessful attempt to adjust to the light. She cursed herself for whatever it was she'd done last night.

By the time the coffees were all done, about double the time it would take on average, she headed back with a slight increase in clarity. The tray rattled in her still unsteady hands, and she prepared herself for possible verbal abuse.

"I'm really sorry," started Judy, "Who wanted what?"

A blonde girl with thick, black eyeliner, perfectly made up, raised her hand for a coffee, her accent unmistakably British when she accepted the drink. Two others, a curly haired boy who seemed a bit baby-faced, and another with slightly darker hair, followed shortly.

Soon enough, the tray was empty. Before Judy could make her escape, however, she was interrupted.

"Hey, I ordered some toast?"

Judy looked back, and was surprised she hadn't noticed him before. Illuminated brown eyes stared back at her own, unbeknownst to her, surprised at the jewel-like quality of her own. He was stylish, on-trend, she'd give him that. Half of his hair was pushed to the side, showcasing his sideburns. Judy took her time studying the boy, lost in some kind of trance. Yeah, definitely on-trend.

Silence. Already prolonged enough to be considered uncomfortable.

"Yeah. Toast. Sorry, was that all or...?" she rushed through her words, speaking probably faster than she ever had before.

The boy glanced around.

"Yeah, that's all. Thanks." he said, with a polite smile before looking away.

In return, Judy nodded at the group, and briskly turned away. Cheeks hot and eyes wide, she walked away as fast as possible.

How long had she been staring at him? Why had she been staring at him? That aura she'd noticed earlier, God, part of it absolutely came from him. He reeked of the wannabe rockstar type.

And toast. All he wanted was fucking toast.

How could she go back now? Waiting for the toaster to pop, she wanted to run out the diner and never return. She'd had her fair share of embarrassing moments, that was true enough, but still the feeling of humiliation blazed through her every single time.

She could only hope that this would be their first and last visit, and she cursed herself not only for taking those drags that morning, but for being so goddamn childish.

She really hadn't let her schoolgirl days behind her yet.

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