JEWEL EYED JUDY

Track Four: Give My Love To The Sunrise

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INTERVIEWER: She turned you down?

EDDIE: [grinning] She did.

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Remainders of last night flashed through Judy's memories, and regret started to sink in. Why she continued, night after night, to partake in the nocturnal activities of drugs and sex, rock 'n' roll, she didn't know. The last week seemed to blur into one, and Judy couldn't remember the day. Actually, it was a Tuesday. Or, shit, was it Friday?

Can't be, she thought. The diner...

Judy groaned. A real, guttural groan, not as if she had go to work but as if somebody had just told her the world was collapsing in on itself. Talk about an inconvenience.

With a splitting headache, Judy practically stumbled her way to the diner, barely aware of anything going on around her. The roars of car engines passing by, bells of bikes, the unbelievably loud voices of overexcited people, it all crashed down on her like a wave. She couldn't separate one from the other, instead receiving a web of pure noise she couldn't untangle herself from.

What the hell did you take?

She pleaded with her own conscience.

Idiot.

When she finally arrived, she thought the nether regions would finally take her and spare her from this life of agony - customer service.

Still holding on to that final thread of consciousness for her dear life, she thought she was hallucinating. At a booth, by himself, was Eddie Roundtree. The band hadn't been back since... Judy wasn't sure. At least... who knows. It must've been a few nights since she'd seen Sandy last - at least two weeks since the diner incident, she guessed.

The worst part was, as the only working server, she couldn't ignore him. All the groans in the world couldn't save her from this fate, which was decidedly worse than anything else she'd encountered in her life so far.

"Hi," she walked over, "What can I get you?"

He pulled his sunglasses up and nestled them atop his head, and she could've scoffed. Typical rock guy. Sunglasses indoors.

"Toast," came the reply.

The bastard.

"Anything else?" replied Judy, struggling to keep up the casual attitude.

She watched as Eddie lent back, "Yeah... a backing singer."

Crossing her arms, Judy forfeited the demeanour entirely, "You're kidding."

"I'm not." insisted Eddie.

Raising her eyebrows in a mix of confusion and irritation, she whisper-yelled, "You've never heard me sing!"

Eddie seemed to have considered this already, readjusting his sitting for - what? - the third or fourth time, "You wouldn't be a session singer if you couldn't sing. Plus, short notice."

Revelling in the height difference she had as she hovered over him, she eyed him curiously, "How much?"

"Couple dollars an hour," he shrugged, "And whatever else you want there, I'm sure we could provide."

"Have you finally decided to make a countermove against peacock? What does he think of all this?" her hands found their way to her hips.

A mischievous grin fell on his face, "Billy. And he won't mind."

"Fine. When?"

"Tonight." he stated, unquestioningly. As if he knew she'd accept, like she'd be dying to do so.

"Very assumptive, but fine. But not because I am particularly enjoying your company so far. This isn't a favour. It's a job." she declared, her footsteps leading to behind the counter for that toast.

"Whatever you want it to be!" he called from behind.

"Abuse of power!" she called back.

The stuffy van was enough to send her over the edge only a few hours later. She could almost puke. There was no warm welcome besides awkward smiles of sympathy as the frontman, Billy, threw a fit. How naïve Eddie was to think he 'won't mind'. She chewed the inside of her cheek as the band, and her, made their way to the studio. She'd learnt from the blonde brit, Karen, that they were in the midst of recording their debut album - only seconds before Billy blew up.

When they finally arrived, Judy felt she'd taken every breath of fresh air for granted. Being able to stretch out her limbs and move was liberating. As she did stretch, she didn't miss that suspicious, aggravated look and attitude that wafted from Billy Dunne.

The band settled into the studio seamlessly, and Judy felt herself keeping distance from the rest of the strangers, aside from Eddie (just about), that made up The Six. She felt herself intruding on Eddie's corner, huddling away in the comfort of the (borderline) familiar. He was too busy tuning his bass to care anyway, and Judy much preferred him that way, quiet.

"OK," boomed a voice - Billy, "Everyone, this is..." he trailed off.

Her nose scrunched. "Judy. Eaton," she finished, slightly unnerved by the fact he didn't even remember her name.

"Yes, Judy, thank you. You know Eddie, obviously," he grimaced, "That's Karen, Graham, Warren."

Judy recognised Graham and Warner as curly-haired boy number one & two.

"Who's the sixth?" she asked.

"That would be my girlfriend." said Billy.

Nodding, Judy took in the faces that surrounded her. They all seemed friendly enough - bar Billy - and Karen in particular made her feel a little less like a fish out of water. She'd done this rodeo several times over, recording with completely strangers, but her heart still raced - eager not to disappoint.

"We just need harmonies, mostly," piped Karen. She had the kind of smile that mellowed someone out almost instantaneously.

"Whatever you need," replied Judy softly, "I can do."

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