𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 | PAUL MCCARTNEY

|i'm in love but i'm lazy|

october seventh

,

later that day

i looked out the window as paul was using my restroom, wondering what i could do to help him get back to where he belonged.

if i couldn't help him, and he was stuck here forever, what would happen? if i did help him, and i got him home, what then? go back to my normal, boring life?

paul re-entered the room and sat back down, reaching for my phone. he laid on his back and scrolled around aimlessly for a few moments. "youtube?"

"it's a video app... open it," i grabbed my phone and opened it for him. he wasn't doing too bad for being from nineteen sixty-four. i gave it back to him and sat back up, looking off somewhere in the distance. it was quiet for a few minutes. paul slowly discovered vsauce, jenna marbles, jake paul and...

"what the hell is a pee-die-pie?" i heard from next to me. i quickly turned around and grabbed the phone from him. he wasn't ready for that side of youtube yet.

"here," i pulled up a different video— maybe it was emma chamberlain or joana ceddia— but it kept him interested. "just... watch this until i can figure out what's happening..."

"how is she doing that...?" paul was shaking his head, looking at the strange edit effects the girl made. it must've been emma.

i laughed, saying, "it's a new thing—you'll see when you grow up," i reassured him.

"grow up? darling, i'm twenty-two. you're probably-"

"seventeen, if you know what i mean," i retorted, referencing one of their best songs.

he narrowed his eyes at me and put my phone down. "i am so confused... i don't even know your name, and i'm fifty years into the future," i stopped and gave him a sympathetic look. he was probably more confused than i was, and he wasn't the one with one of the best songwriters ever in their bedroom. "i don't know how i got here, and i don't know why i'm sitting in your damn bedroom instead of finding a way home," paul sputtered, putting his hands in his hair, leaning back onto my bed frame.

i could tell he was getting anxious. "beatrice," i blurted. "my name's beatrice..." i said, trying to distract him.

paul's breathing became normal-er as he looked at me with hooded eyelids. "beatrice," he repeated.

i liked the way he said my name with his british accent. "if you know our, y'know, current songs... you know about our future songs?" paul suddenly asked. i shifted on the bed so he could see my face better.

i instantly knew what he would say next. "yes, of course."

"well then, did we... do okay? in the future?"

i nodded softly, closing my eyes as i did. "you guys did more than okay, you changed millions of people's lives,"

paul smiled, almost chuckling. he was probably in disbelief of what i was saying. "us? four lads from liverpool with rusty instruments and loud voices?" i nodded again, but this time, i said nothing. "tell me something that happens--something that won't change what happens," paul said.