"Sure would," she agrees. "But it can at least keep the stress down. Hard to get into a mental spiral when you're fucked out and exhausted. Plus, y'know, endorphins and shit."

With a snort, Julie rolls her eyes a little. The vast majority of people involved with shitbags know it. The problem isn't knowing -- it's getting entangled before you know. "So then what, you get off on bein' treated like shit? Either you invited him because you knew what he was, or in spite of it. I'm not sayin' you're ignorant, I'm sayin' you settled. Maybe not entirely 'cause of him, but definitely some of him. Between you and him, you got it in your mind that he was the only option. Unless he was the only guy in your town, then he wasn't."

She shoots Abby a look. "I'm not fuckin' drunk, this is coffee. It's a thing, it's about the sound... waves, or vibrations or somethin'. Like how there's different kinds of yoga? There's different meditations too, and the one with the bowl is about the noises." God, Julie wishes she had a better memory for this kind of thing. It's so obnoxious to know exactly what you're talking about, but not how to describe it.

"You should talk to Stephen Strange, he'll know what I'm talkin' about. He's a total culture vulture for Asian stuff like that. His domain is like, part Himalayan mountains."