Chapter Text
The train rumbles beneath Jude’s feet as it slows, pulling into Mountport station. While a day train trip wasn’t the most unpleasant way to travel, he longed to stretch his legs.
Though Mountport wasn’t the most ideal for him, he preferred it to the scorching heat, hoping that a new start would get his musician career going.
The train screeches to a stop, jolting him out of his daydreams and he grabs a duffel bag and his guitar from the oversized luggage before stepping into Mountport.
It’s… damper than Jude thought it would be, though he shouldn’t be that surprised, just because Palm Springs was dry, doesn’t mean Mountport would be. He moves out of the way, looking for any sense of direction out of the train station and where he can get a taxi, since his shitty phone died two hours ago and he couldn’t find his charger.
He found a community housing situation (it’s actually just four guys in a house, but community housing sounds less sketchy.) a month ago when he was desperate for something new. He has a monthly rent and has to chip into utilities and groceries, but it’s a few hundred dollars cheaper than what his rent used to be, so Jude took it immediately.
Jude finally manages to flag down a taxi.
“Can you take me to this address?” He asks, handing his phone to the driver.
The driver nods. “You new in town?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I must’ve looked pretty confused.” Jude huffs a laugh, staring out the window as the downtown high rises and office buildings start to turn into houses with lawns and quaint shops.
The driver laughs. “Oh yeah. We don’t get a lot of new folks, it’s pretty easy to parce y’all out. You staying long?”
“I think so. I’m a musician, or attempting to be. Honestly, this was one of the cheaper train tickets out of my town.”
“Where are you from?”
“Palm Springs.”
The driver nods in recognition. “Yeah, we only have one train out of here, our conductor refuses to do any other route than to Palm Springs.” They shrug. “Dunno why, but most people don’t leave that often either, so it works out.”
“So, do you have any recommendations of notable places to see?” Jude didn’t want to come out and say ‘I’m currently jobless and will need to be playing on the street in order to make any money, where’s popular spots for that’, but he also wanted to be prepared come tomorrow when he would have to get started.
“Oh, there’s many great places. The History Museum is interesting, and for a museum cafe, they have pretty good coffee for cheap too. The library and Art Museum too, all very well funded. We love our arts here. The pier is nice, we have a decent fishing export, mostly tuna, but there’s some cute shops if you’re interested.”
The driver rattles off a few more places, which Jude commits to memory.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to check them all out.” Jude says as they turn down a street.
“Happy to help.” The driver smiles. “Welcome to Mountport.”
.
Jude waves goodbye to the taxi driver, before turning back to the house. He can hear faint voices from inside and he takes a deep breath before walking up the sidewalk to the front door. Jude knocks twice and waits.
There’s some shuffling and the door opens. A man, about Jude’s age, with long dreads pulled into a bun, baggy shirt and shorts stands at the door.
“Hi, I’m Jude Stevens, your new roommate?”
The man’s face splits into a wide smile. “Jude! Dude, we’re so psyched to have you! Come in, come in, you can meet everyone!”
Jude walks further in to see three other people sitting on the floor, Wii remotes in hand, an old game that Jude doesn’t recognize on screen.
“This is everyone.” The man, who still hasn’t given his name, starts pointing at his friends. “That’s Hunter, they’re a tour guide at the art museum, they’re like so smart it’s crazy.” Hunter has a cutoff tank top with scars on their chest and an almost atrocious shade of bright orange sweatpants. Their hair is pulled into a half up ponytail and their bangs are cut jaggedly, like they did it themself. Tattoos litter their arms as they twist to wave at Jude. “That’s Cameron, he’s currently unemployed.”
Cameron, a gangly man with curly brown hair turns around in betrayal. “Dude, c’mon.” He says, before looking at Jude. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Jude says, smiling lightly.
“And finally, that’s Tyler, he’s the assistant coach of our baseball team!” Tyler smirks, flexing his muscles as the other three start cheering.
“Go Magpies!” Hunter says, pumping their arms.
Jude stifles a laugh, feeling more at home with these four people he’s barely met than he ever did back in Palm Springs.
“Baseball’s huge here.” The man explains, looking back at Jude as the three others settle back into their game. “I’m Chase. It’s really good to meet you.”
“You too.”
.
Jude took the rest of the day to settle in. His new roommates were great, letting him sit on the couch and scribble out notes, half humming chords while they played video games for the rest of the day. Jude has had friends before, he was pretty close with some of his friends from high school, but there was something warm about existing with these people. Jude’s old friends loved to banter, they loved to tease, poking at everything you did with a wide smile. Jude liked them just fine, but his new roommates, who as Chase had explained, have been friends ever since they met in their freshman year of high school. They still teased each other, but it was lighter than it was with Jude’s friends.
It was long past dinner, Jude’s notebook having been put away in favor of taking his turn at the Wii, when he finally remembered to ask.
“Do you know what the rules are here about busking?” He directs his question at Chase, though all five of them are crowded in the kitchen, helping with dishes and putting away leftovers.
“Oh, Mountport’s pretty chill about it. There’s this one guy who’s always in sunglasses no matter the weather, he’s pretty territorial about the History Museum, as long as you don’t busk around there, you’re good.”
Jude was not prepared for busking turf wars, but it was a smaller town. “Okay, so avoid the History museum. Got it.”
“I think the art museum doesn’t have anyone busking.” Cameron adds. “If you’re looking to stake a claim.”
Jude smiles gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll head over there tomorrow.”
Chase grins back, and Jude can’t help but think he lucked out with his roommates.
The next day, Jude was up with the sun, yawning and attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes as he got dressed and tuned his guitar. Sun streams through the windows of the house, the wood beneath Jude’s feet creaking as he makes his way to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading out.
Dew clings to the grass, not yet dried off by the sun as Jude makes his way to the bus stop with a transit card lent to him by Tyler, who was staying in today.
The bus is empty, and Jude claims two seats in the back, setting his guitar case down and staring out the window, too paranoid he would miss his stop to even consider putting in headphones. Houses pass by, giving way to a slowly awaking downtown Mountport, people starting to get on the bus, yawning and holding mugs and thermoses as they make their way to work.
“Next stop, Mountport Art Museum.” The bus driver announces, and Jude gets his belongings together, making his way to the door. He finds a spot, a little ways away from the entrance, not enough that people won’t see him, but enough that he won’t be in anyone's way.
Jude sets up his guitar case and his collapsable stool so he’s not on his feet the whole day and starts playing.
“You’re in my spot.”
Jude doesn’t notice someone standing in front of him until it’s too late. The man, guitar slung over his back, his arms crossed over his chest glares down at Jude.
“I’m sorry, what?” For a second, Jude wonders if he somehow ended up at the history museum and this was the infamous Dust that his roommates told him about, but the lack of sunglasses told him otherwise.
“My spot. This is where I busk.”
“I didn’t see a sign.”
“I don’t need a sign. This is where I play every other day.”
“That feels incredibly complicated.” Jude says, already regretting his initial protest. “I was here first, dude, go somewhere else.”
“You go somewhere else!”
Jude considers sticking his tongue out, before thinking better of it. He’s an adult, he doesn’t need to resort to name calling and childish retorts.
“I’m not moving.”
The other man groans and rolls his eyes, before walking- stomping more accurately- about twenty feet away and setting up his own guitar.
What a fucking dick.