Recent events inspired me to write this one-shot, even though I think it kinda sucks. There's not really a point to it, I just felt like writing this morning. And since I've been a very neglecting writer and haven't updated any of the stories I should have, I thought I'd share this with you guys.

Hopefully you'll like it better than I did.

It's independence day in Brazil today, by the way, so I'm giving a special shout out to my Brazilian readers. We are some cool mofos.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

youmeblues

Laying on the fluffy carpet of Alex's living room while Ella Fitzgerald scat sang on Alex's record player, Mitchie stared up at the ceiling enjoying her state of nirvana after they had smoked in her hookah a third of the weed she had bought for that month in a sole afternoon.

Most people would think it was very uncommon for two 17 year old girls to be voluntarily passed out on the floor listening to a improvised jazz vinyl on a Friday night and actually enjoying it.

And most people would probably be right.

But Mitchie and Alex were never common. They don't really have many friends. They don't go to parties and get wasted. They don't try to sneak into bars. They don't have super intense love lives. They don't really listen to the radio. They don't get caught up in gossip from school. They love reading. They love old music and old movies. They love walking around aimlessly. They love people watching. They love creating impossible scenarios.

"I wish I was Ella Fitzgerald." Mitchie heard Alex mumble out suddenly.

"I wish I was Louis Armstrong."

They also kind of hate the fact that they were born in the 1990's, and not sometime in the the first half of the 20th century.

"He was addicted to laxatives."

"At least it wasn't meth..."

She heard Alex's laugh and smiled knowing her friend had caught on her reference to their sociology teacher who had been recently fired after the school board found out about her little drug trouble.

"Do you think Churchill would've liked Thatcher?"

"I don't think Churchill liked anyone."

"Mkay. Do you think Lincoln would've liked Obama?"

"No one likes Obama. At least not anymore."

"Well... Do you think Fred Astaire would've liked Johnny Depp?"

Mitchie rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"Obviously. Everyone likes Johnny Depp. And everyone liked Fred Astaire."

"...that's not true."

"I don't care. In my world, it is. Any person who doesn't like either of them is banned from it." Mitchie reached for her guitar laying nearby and started playing with the strings once the record stopped playing and the room fell into a soothing silence.

"Can you play Sinatra?" Mitch rolled her eyes but smiled before starting to play a very well known melody to both of them.

"Oh, you tramp."

Mitchie laughed and sat up with the guitar on her lap looking down at Alex who had her eyes closed and a wide smile on her lips.

"Alex gets too hungry for dinner at eight. Alex likes the theater and never comes late. Alex never bothers with people she'd hate. That's why Alex is a tramp!"

Mitchie watched Alex laugh in delight as she kept playing with a smile of her own.

"Bitch. You always do that."

"Because you always ask me to play Sinatra. You're like a broken record."

Alex rolled her eyes and looked up at Mitch.

"Fine. What do you wanna play, then?"

"I wanna play the cello one day."

"That shit's bigger than you!"

Mitch smiled.

While her fingers skillfully slid through the guitar, she watched Alex sit up in front of her. She licked her lips before biting on them in the process and Mitchie smirked knowing how badly cotton mouth affected Alex. It wouldn't be too long until she would tiredly drag herself to the kitchen to find something to drink.

Alex lifted her arms and pulled her dark, long hair into an overly messy bun and Mitchie knew how much effort that simple action required from her friend when stoned.

"Why aren't you singing?" Alex's tone was husky, almost as if she had just woken up.

Mitchie shrugged.

"I don't know..."

Alex frowned.

"Sing to me."

Mitch smiled and looked down at the guitar before picking up from the next verse.

"Then I would be mighty, I would be mighty glad. Then I just wouldn't know what to do. When I say 'coo-coo-coo', like a little baby do... I would love to have a lovely kiss from you."

Alex smiled and leaned forward softly placing her lips on top of Mitchie's that let out a smile of their own.

Differently from other times when they had shared small kisses, this time neither of them pulled back. Instead, Mitchie stopped playing her guitar and sighed feeling Alex's lips slowly move against hers. She felt Alex lazily rest her arms on top of her shoulders before finally breaking the kiss and resting her head on the crook of her neck.

"Y'know... We've been doing this a lot lately." She said with a small laugh.

Alex chuckled and Mitchie enjoyed the feeling of her hot breath against the skin of her neck.

"...so?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying."

Alex pulled back enough to look at her friend; her arms still tangled around her neck.

"You don't like when I kiss you?"

"I do."

"So?"

"You only kiss me when you're high, though."

"It's because your lips are so soft. I love feeling them when I'm high." She said before kissing Mitchie again.

Mitchie smiled and laid the guitar on her lap, placing her elbows on top of it and resting her hands on each side of Alex's hips.

"You're such a pothead." She said when Alex slowly pulled away.

"So are you!"

"I never said I wasn't."

Alex smiled.

"Neither have I."

Mitchie chuckled and began to play again.

"Why do you always play Skip James?"

"Because I'm always in the mood to play Skip James."

"But how? Most of his songs are so depressing..."

"That's the blues, baby girl. It's depressing by definition."

Alex smiled and got up making her way into the kitchen. Mitch kept playing meanwhile, still immersed in her high. She watched Alex walk back with two bottles of Budweiser. She placed them near the record player before taking the Ella Fitzgerald vinyl out and putting it back inside its cover.

"Since you're in a blues mood, let's bring out my fav." She said squatting to look inside the box with their shared vinyl collection.

When she pulled one out from it, Mitchie didn't get to see which one it was, even though she kind of already had an idea.

Alex placed the vinyl on the record player and pulled down the needle before taking the beer bottles and sitting back in the same spot in front of Mitchie, who put the guitar aside and accepted the beer Alex handed her.

A second later, Rambling on my Mind by Robert Johnson started playing and Mitchie smiled as she took a sip of her beer. Just as she had imagined.

"Howlin' Wolf once said when you ain't got no money, you still got the blues. But maybe in our case it should be when you ain't got no social life, you still got the blues"

Alex furrowed her eyebrows and shifted a bit to reach her back pocket pulling a dollar bill from it.

"I don't know 'bout you, but I got five bucks."

Mitchie laughed shaking her head at her friend.

"Baby, you're a millionaire!"

Alex smiled and took a sip from the beer.

"I don't mind not having a social life, though. I'd much rather be here with you than anywhere else."

"I mean... We got a bunch of friends at Billy's record store."

"And your grandpa's friends said we're super cool."

"Yep. Besides, dead people love us. I mean, we buy all of their shit even though they've been rotten for ages."

"Right?" They smiled at each other and Alex shifted again, this time to lean her body against Mitchie's. "And we've tried being social. We've tried dating people. We've tried having fun at parties and mingling with those asses from school. We're just too sophisticated for them."

"We are. We're old, refined souls."

"Exactly. All the people we would get along with are dead. That's not our fault."

"We get along..."

Alex sighed.

"We do."

Mitchie took a long gulp from her beer before turning her head to look at Alex, who looked back at her after a few seconds.

They smiled before Mitchie leaned in for another kiss that Alex gladly and immediately responded to.

"We're pretty self-sufficient."

"Yeah, except we don't have dicks."

Mitchie scoffed.

"So? We can buy them on the Internet."

Alex let out a loud laugh.

"Fair enough."

"So, you know... I think maybe we should start kissing when we're not high too."

"...maybe." Alex answered in a flirtatious tone.

"And... Maybe we should start holding hands when we're wandering 'round town too."

"Maybe."

"And we should fall asleep spooning."

"We already do that." Alex giggled.

Mitchie smiled and pecked her lips.

"I meant naked."

Alex laughed and nudged Mitchie's shoulder.

"Sassy."

"More like sexy."

She smiled again and held Alex's stare.

"I know where you're going with this." Alex smirked. "And I like it. You're the only person I really care about and to be very honest I don't really think that's ever gonna change."

"Good." Mitchie placed her bottle near the guitar on the floor and did the same to Alex's before pulling the girl on to her lap. Alex adjusted herself and crossed her feet on the floor behind Mitchie, who embraced her waist pulling them closer. "We'll be each other's blues, then, since we ain't got nothing else anyways."

Alex chuckled and hugged Mitchie's neck before pulling her into another kiss.