Hello. I started this a while back, and originally it was intended to be a one-shot... But I'm stuck where I'm at in writing it right now, so I decided to stick it up here just to see how it's received. :-)

Also, this will be no longer than 2 chapters. I suck at keeping up long-running stories. If you need an example, check out any one of my other stories... Haha... As they have most likely not been updated for over a year.

Enjoy!

P.S. this takes place after Max and Jude move to New York City, early in the summer before Lucy shows up.

Disclaimer: Across the Universe does not belong to me. It's true. I haven't even bought the DVD yet. Also, Me & Bobby McGee is a real song by Janis Joplin (duh), which I also do not own. Also also, the phrase "...say the darndest things" is not mine. And, just to clear up any confusion, The Doors is also a real band. I do not own them, though I do own some of their CDs... I steal lots of shit.

"I…am a taxi driver."

"…are you sure this time?" Jude smiles up at me, the end of a paintbrush shoved in his mouth.

"Shut up. That guy had a twisted sense of humor, and you know it." Jude chews on the end of his paintbrush for a moment, before shrugging.

"When do you start?" he asks, changing the subject with only a slight smile to acknowledge the previous conversation.

"Tomorrow," I reply, stretching before tossing myself into the nearest chair.

"I'll get a job soon," Jude says after a moment.

"Don't worry about it, man," I reassure him, waving a hand through the air. "Do your art shit."

"Yeah, but the rent…"

I leave his sentence dangling in the air, unfinished.

"Don't worry about it."

I glance around the apartment, noting the unusual silence.

"Where is everybody?"

Jude says something under his breath that I don't quite catch, but I'm too tired to care. Besides, my roommate is incorrigible when he's got that whole "creative flow" thing going.

Whatever the hell that is.

Don't get me wrong, Jude's a swell guy. Any situation that makes silence mandatory, however, is not something I tend to associate myself with.

I strip to my boxers in the kitchen as I rummage through the fridge for something to eat. The cool air hits me and feels nice against my sweat soaked skin. July in New York City is the worst.

I grab an apple and head back the way I came, kicking my discarded clothing on the floor in front of me to my and Jude's room.

I'm not lazy. I conserve energy.

What can I say, I love the environment.

Once back in my room, I kick my sweaty interview clothes in the corner before grabbing a button down white shirt and my favorite corduroy pants before reconsidering. Corduroy is way too warm for a day like today. I go with my light brown cotton pants instead. They haven't been washed in a while but…oh well.

"I'm going out," I announce to no one in particular before shutting the door to the outside hallway behind me. I toss the apple once in the air before biting into it, the sudden cold making my teeth ache.

No wonder Sadie's apartment is so damn hot, I think to myself, looking down the stairwell.

We're the fucking 9th floor.

Nothing seems to affect Max the way it affects everybody else. That's the first thing I noticed about him. He and I may go through the same schedule, see and hear the exact same things, and yet at the end of the day our stories about the previous twenty-four hours would be completely different.

Of course, that would probably be because he made up half of what he said happened, just to make it funnier or more interesting.

Max makes it seem so simple, living a mundane life, going from day to day without a care in the world.

Well, I think, smirking, maybe "mundane" is too critical a word.

Max is everything but mundane.

"Hey."

I jump when I hear Prudence's voice, smiling as I look up from my latest drawing. I didn't hear her come in.

"Hello hello," I respond, slumping back in my seat, grimacing when I hear my neck crack, "how are you?"

"Fine," she says, twirling her fingers around her long dark hair, "Hey, have you seen Sadie?"

"No, not since yesterday…" I trail, tapping my fingers on the table. "Why?"

"Nothing, really. Do you think she'd let me keep a cat in here?" Prudence continues, sitting herself on the stool to my left.

"I'm…not sure," I confess, raising my eyebrows at the Ohioan, "She's got one running around here already. I doubt she'd care, as long as it stays out of her stuff."

"Right… This is really neat," Prudence says, tapping the drawing I've been working on all night.

"Thanks."

We sit together for a moment, both looking at my drawing of propaganda's propaganda. It's a concept Max and I came up with one night while sitting in our room high out of our minds and trying to read the latest newspaper.

Needless to say, it seemed more genius stoned.

"Anyway, I'd better split," Prudence announces, getting up off of the bar stool. "I'll catch up with you later, Jude."

"Yeah, see ya." I wave to the small girl as she exits the apartment once again.

Left alone, to my own devices. Only me… and this drawing.

I crumple it up and throw it in the corner before standing up and making my way to the bed.

I crash as soon as my head hits the pillow.

"I tell you, the man lives like a hermit," I proclaim, grabbing JoJo by the arm and dragging him into my room. "Look at this! He stays up all night, sleeps all day, and communicates with grunts and angry gestures."

"Leave the boy alone, Max," JoJo responds, pulling away from me and heading towards the door. I open my mouth to protest before shutting it again, turning to look at the lump that has taken up residence in my bed.

The most I've seen of Jude in the past few days has been this picture; his messy hair and his bare feet sticking out from opposite ends of the comforter. He's barely spoken a word to me since yesterday morning.

I decide to change that.

"Jude," I say, my voice dry. I clear my throat and try again. "…Jude, hey, man wake up." I watch as life stirs underneath the covers, my roommate slowly waking up making me smile as he pulls the comforter tighter around his body, choosing to ignore me.

"Max? What time is it?" he mumbles, his voice groggy and annoyed.

"Two in the afternoon," I reply, fishing in my pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "And you, my friend, have been asleep for how long?"

"Right…" Jude yawns, sitting up in bed and stretching. He lets his back lean against the wall as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"Anyway, Teddy's got a space picked out down on 11th Ave, and we're all going down to watch his performance," I continue, falling onto the bed next to Jude. "From what I hear, it's going to be quite the thriller." Jude snorts and shakes his head.

"You're joking," he says, digging in his jeans pocket and pulling out a lighter after noticing my unsuccessful search for the very same one in my pocket.

"Thank you," I mumble, lighting my cigarette before putting the lighter in my pocket, "and no, I wish I were. Theodore is very excited to dress up in heels and a short skirt. His skit is terrible, but… cheap laughs for cheap entertainment, I suppose."

"God…" Jude mumbles, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "When does it start?"

"In about an hour. Which is why I kindly woke you up," I say grinning, standing up from the bed, "I wouldn't want you to miss this. Women's rights are so comedic, wouldn't you agree?"

"Shit," Jude laughs, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, "Let's just hope we're the only one's who show."

"Oh no," I reply, stepping towards the door, "My dear friend, Teddy has advertised this wherever he can stick adhesive tape. Look around, man. His posters are everywhere. Teddy's going to be bigger than Lenny Bruce...or maybe Professor Unwin. Anyway, Sadie's hoping that he'll get his ass kicked so badly he'll leave New York." I pause and hold my hands up, crossing my middle fingers with my index fingers. I turn around and push the door open, leaving Jude to get ready for Ted's performance.

"Hey, Teddy," I say, my heart pounding in my chest when I realize the aspiring comedian was sitting not twenty feet from where I was talking about him with Jude, "ready for the big gig?"

"Yes, Maxy," Theodore deadpans, and I choke on a laugh. "Are you ready to have your mind blown?"

"…right, well. I'll be back to collect Jude later. See you after the performance," I choke out, hearing the laughter in my own voice.

Christ, he is strange. Teddy found us one sad, forgotten afternoon in the spring. He'd just moved to the city from Canada, and we were looking for somebody to rent out the room I had inhabited once Paul moved out.

I don't like holding grudges. Teddy's kind of the exception.

After spending months cooped up in that tiny space with Jude, I finally had my own room. And now it's been taken from me. He's such a fucking moron, but at the time we needed help with the rent, so Sadie had to let him move in.

She's not too picky when it comes to who's living in her apartment, as long as they're paying their share of rent, and it was this mentality that resulted in Ted.

I cast a sidelong glance over my shoulder, watching as he tucks the legs of his Ivy Leaguers into his rain boots.

I smirk as I pull the door to the hallway open, confident that I will have my room by midnight.

"I don't think he's all that bad," I say, defending the man whose performance we're on our way to see. Max and I walk down the sidewalk, side by side, dodging puddles from the recent rainfall.

"Jude, shit man, are you kidding?" Max asks incredulously, his eyes shining brightly. "He is the reason babies cry at night. He is the reason puppies die and flowers wilt. Ted is horrible." Max grins when he hears me sigh, knowing that I'm holding back laughter.

"He hates it when you call him that, you know," I continue. "He's not so bad if you tried to get along. He's actually pretty interesting."

"You're lucky, man," Max says, taking a swig of his root beer. "He hates me. I can't do anything without him there, watching me and commenting on it. It's sad, the way he takes himself so seriously…"

"Oh, leave him alone. You're just jealous that he gets a room all to himself, and you have to share with me," I laugh, watching as Max shakes his head, smiling.

"Not true. Don't get me wrong, you're a swell guy, Jude but…whoa. Check out the skirt." Max is quickly side-tracked, his attention lost on me by a tall brunette walking down the sidewalk towards us. He grows quiet as she walks by, smiling at her and nodding his head in greeting before turning around and walking backwards as soon as she passes us to watch her retreat. He whistles his approval. She ignores him.

"Nice, very nice," he sighs, turning back around. "I swear coming to New York is the best decision I've ever made."

"That's saying a lot," I scoff, smirking when he hits me lightly in the arm.

"Shut up. Oh look!" he exclaims enthusiastically, though his tone is sarcastic, "It's Teddy! Teddy, over here!"

And he's off. I stay behind, watching as my quirky roommate runs up to the man he hates and hugs him tightly, planting a kiss on the side of his face. Ted pushes Max off of him, swearing at him for being such an idiot.

I smile as I walk towards the two, wishing Ted good luck before his big performance.

"It's 'break-a-leg' in the show business," he sniffs, fixing his collar.

Max and I exchange a look. This should be good.

Our lives never really had any sense to them. There wasn't any logical sequence of things, no order with which we used to approach our days. Some days we would wake up at 4 PM and eat breakfast later that night, and other days started at 8 AM. Sometimes I'd spend the day in a hung-over stupor, which happened more often than not. It seemed as if the one constant in my life was Max, and knowing that he would, inevitably, show up by my side at some point during the day, that ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

"Freedom's just another word for… nothin' left to lose! Nothin'…don't mean nothin', honey, if it ain't free, now now…" I smirk when I hear the door open and Max's voice coming from the other room, quickly followed by the man himself as he sings his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Janis," I smirk, "What are you up to?"

"Morning?" he asks, dropping his Janis Joplin impression, "you, my friend, would be obviously unemployed to a blind man. It's the middle of the afternoon."

"Oh," I say, glancing at the clock above the stove.

"Hey, feeling good was good enough for me… hmm hmm…Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee…" Max sings under his breath, going through the mail, "Hey, you got a letter," he says, and I snap my head up.

"What?" I don't exist in the United States, legally. Who could have…?

"Nah, just fucking with you, man," Max snorts, turning around to open the fridge.

"Jesus, Max," I mutter, rolling my eyes as I turn back to the crossword puzzle that had been previously amusing me until Max got home.

"I know, I'm horrible. Want to go give lives to some people down in Central Park? The weather's awesome," he asks, switching gears completely as he grabs an orange out of the fridge. "Plus I hear some girls are walking around topless as a sort of protest."

"Topless, as in…?"

"Completely topless," Max clarifies, tossing half of the now peeled orange at me.

"Sounds good," I agree, standing up to follow him.

Lying in the grass next to Max, I listen as he tells me about the old man feeding pigeons.

"He's a decorated ex-military war hero, from World War I," Max begins, staring up at the sky, "In his spare time he likes to…"

"Feed the birds?" I venture, a slight sarcastic tone to my voice.

"Tuppence a bag, and no, very funny," Max chastises, kicking my foot from where he's lying, "He now spends his spare time lying in the grass with an ungrateful friend, attempting to unwind a little after a hard days work as an underpaid, overworked taxi driver."

"So, he's a pothead," I say, grinning at Max.

"Yeah, pretty much," Max concedes, and I look over in time to see his eyelids fall shut.

"What time did you go into work this morning?" I ask, watching as he adjusts to get more comfortable.

"Seven…" he trails, sighing, "Let me tell you, long fucking day, man."

"What, you got an hour of sleep?" I press, surprised. We went to bed at six earlier this morning, after Ted's performance and the celebration party that soon followed its end; Ted left New York City, claiming everyone here was soulless and without a sense of humor.

"Mm, didn't sleep," Max mumbles, "Your turn."

"What?"

"Your turn, the game, give someone a life," he explains, bringing his hands up to cradle the back of his head.

"Okay…" I start, going into intense detail about the young girl standing with her parents and older brother, how she will flee the country at age 16 in order to experience life on her own. It ends with her joining The Doors as a coked up 18 year old, only to have them leave her behind in a washroom where she had forced them to pull over so that she could empty her stomach of the previous 24 hours.

I'm not very good at this game.

I look over to find Max sleeping.

"It wasn't that boring…" I say, expecting him to open his eyes and grin, reassuring me that it was. When he doesn't, however, I realize he's actually asleep.

I sigh as I redirect my gaze to the sky, watching as lazy clouds hang in the less-than-blue vastness. A slight breeze blows through the trees, giving me goosebumps. Max was right, though; it's a beautiful day.

I turn my head towards Max, watching as he breathes in and out, his lips slightly parted. I reach over to brush a stray strand of dirty blond hair out of his face when my hand lingers. I feel my heart racing in my chest as I realize that Max, for a guy, isn't half bad looking.

In fact, I have no trouble seeing why so many girls have fallen for my best mate.

I quickly pull my hand away when Max stirs, my heart pounding in my throat now, a blush darkening my face. Suddenly it's too warm.

"You know, Sadie. I was thinking the other day that there is something missing in this apartment. And then it hit me; oxygen." I sit on the edge of the table, my feet resting in the chair in front of me. Jude stands to my right and we both watch as Sadie rushes to prepare herself a quick supper before meeting up with some friends at Café Huh.

"Oxygen? What the hell are you talking about, Max?"

"No, wait. Just hear me out," I plead, smiling and holding my hands up. "I can't breathe up here, man. And then I thought what better way to get oxygen up here than to bring in some potted plants? Sadie, I think we should grow some life up here. Better yet, usable life. How about some pot?"

"I think it's a stellar idea," Jude says quickly, an easy smile on his face.

"Well, thank you, Jude. I always knew I could count on your vote," I reply, throwing an arm around his shoulder. I turn back to Sadie, who's looking at me with an eyebrow raised, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Cute, Max," Sadie sighs, sounding annoyed, though she's smiling.

"I know. Drug addicts say the darndest things," I say, grinning.

"Who say the darndest things?" Prudence asks, entering the conversation from the other room.

"Drug addicts," I reply.

"Oh," Prudence says, not really paying attention to me as she exits the kitchen just as quickly as she entered.

"So, how about it, Sade?" I question, turning back to our landlady.

"You think I care? As long as you don't start a business in my living room, and as long as I still get my rent, you could start a meth lab for all I care."

"Thank you, Sadie! You're the best," I say enthusiastically, jumping up from the table and grabbing Jude by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him towards the door. "You won't regret it!"

"I already do," she chuckles, shaking her head slowly.

"What are you doing?" I ask, walking into the kitchen and seeing Max standing on tiptoes.

"I'm thinking about taking up ballet…" he replies, glancing at me over his shoulder.

"No you're not," I chuckle.

"You're right," he says, holding a glass bowl in his hand that he'd retrieved from the top of the refrigerator.

"What's that for?" I ask, sidling up to my friend as he begins to scrub at the dusty bowl in the kitchen sink.

"Who is this for, Jude. Who, not what," he corrects, grinning when he notices the confused look on my face.

I decide not to question him as he takes to his task without another word. I perch myself on the counter next to the sink and watch as Max dutifully cleans away the grime, his brow furrowed as he bites his lower lip in concentration. He grips a sponge between soapy fingers, swearing under his breath when his finger catches on a jagged part of the bowl.

He pulls his hands out of the water, scrutinizing the scratch before plunging them back into the murky water.

Max breaks for a moment to scratch his jaw, and I choke on a laugh when he pulls his hand away and leaves soap suds behind.

"Here," I say, wiping the bubbles off of his cheek with my thumb, "You know, doing the dishes is a very difficult chore. If you need help, just say so…"

"Thanks, but I've got it under control," Max deadpans, rolling his eyes at me.

"Oh I'm not so sure about that. I remember my first time doing the dishes…" I tease, laughing when he throws some suds at me.

"Quiet," he snaps, smiling.

"I think it's clean enough," I whine, leaning back and knocking my head against the cupboard.

"Yeah, alright. The suspense is killing you," he guesses, flashing me another brilliant smile.

"No, no it's not that…" I trail, hopping off of the counter to follow him into the other room as he towel dries the bowl, "I'm just wondering what could possibly be worth ignoring supper for."

"Ah, shit," Max says, turning around, "I'm sorry, I forgot." I smirk and shake my head.

"No worries, mate," I sigh, seeing him turn back around, "This had better be bloody good, though."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that… Stay there," Max commands, and I comply. I watch as my roommate sets the bowl on the floor before picking something up out of a grocery bag.

"Jude," Max begins, turning around to face me while holding something behind his back, "meet Hamilton."

I stare as a small plastic bag is held dangling in front of my face, with a little goldfish swimming around inside.

"It's a goldfish?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Jude, it's not a goldfish… It's a peacefish! Some people were selling 'em down on Fifth Ave. I'd say that's a nickel well spent, wouldn't you?" Max looks expectantly at me.

"…for fuck sake, Max," I mumble, my mouth twisting up into a smile, "gone a little barmy, have you?"

"Fuck you, man," Max grins, shoving me back towards the door, "he'll grow on you."

"Sounds good. I'm going to supper," I laugh, "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah in a bit. I've gotta get Hamilton's bowl set up first, though," he explains when I glare at him, and then reaches into his back pocket, "Here, to curb your enthusiasm for Hammy."

I catch what Max tosses at me, and grin when I see what the small baggie holds.

"There, that's more like it," I say, making my way back into the room and falling onto the bed, "Is this from your plant?"

"That? No, the plant, um, died," Max admits, shrugging, "Could never remember to water the damn thing…"

"Oh, well. Good luck with your fish." Max mutters something as he picks up the bowl and his fish. I watch as he walks away towards the bathroom, clutching the bowl under one arm.

I sigh as I look back up at the ceiling, feeling the familiar tightness in my chest, the way my heart pounds in my throat. For the past week, every time I see Max, talk with him, joke around with him, my reaction has been the same.

I wonder for how much longer this, whatever this is, will go by unnoticed.

Questions/Comments/Concerns?

Let me know if the switching POV gets confusing... I try to make it obvious by mentioning names within the first few sentences, but as the author it's difficult for me to see when things don't make sense...because I wrote it. It makes sense in my brain, I promise!!

I hope you liked it! If you did, I should be posting the next chapter fairly shortly here... So keep in touch.