i believe in yesterday ☽ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞

the hotel in which molly was staying at had a strange scent to it. she couldn't pick between mothballs or rotten socks, but it certainly smelled horrendous.

the hangover had just begun at five am when she woke up with a pounding headache. the boys went back to their place, which also smelled badly, and left her in her bed. unbeknownst to her, there was still a young man who followed them home in her hotel room, cuddled into a pillow on the floor.

molly sat up in bed and looked down; her dress was stained with vomit. she grimaced, taking her covers off and kicking her feet over the bed.

"ouch!" a sound came from beneath her. she looked down too quickly and intensified her headache.

"stick!"

stick took the pillow and threw it over his head. he grinned into it, waiting for her to go off on him.

"what on earth are you doing in my hotel room?" she pulled her dress down and looked at him. "it's five in the morning!"

"it is?" stick ignored her question. "time for a quick workout," he stood up and stretched around goofily.

"you didn't answer my question, stick," molly prodded his back as he did jumping-jacks.

he sighed and turned back around, looking down on her. he was at least six feet tall. she was only five foot six or so.

"you were so bloody drunk last night, molly." he chuckled.

she backed away slowly, the back of her knees hitting the bed as he got nearer and nearer to her.

"i think you still might be," she teased.

stick came closer to her, their bodies practically touching. she could feel his warm breath on her face.

molly felt the urge to get away from him, but at the same time, she wanted to stay right where she was. he reached around her and grabbed her heels. "you should keep your shoes off the bed."

backing away, he threw her shoes on the floor and walked to the bathroom, presumably to take a shower and get the stench off him.

she whispered to herself, "what the bloody hell was that?"

molly heard the creaky faucet in the bathroom turn on, signalling stick's shower she thought he'd take. she made sure the door was closed and sat back on the bed.

the phone suddenly rang with an erratic, annoying tone. she picked it up and held it close to her face.

"hello?"

"morning, molly," george said to her. "how are you?"

without answering him, she asked, "did you know stick stayed in my room last night?"

she could feel his breathing change. he almost choked on the tea he was drinking. she knew he didn't know, and he thought something else.

"erm, no..." he swallowed hard.

"i didn't either," molly tried to calm him, but felt it didn't do much. "i found him half-drunk on my floor."

"that must've been a shock," he said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. "we didn't see him last night... must've snuck in past us..."

"how are you and the boys?" she curiously asked.

"oh, we're fine, yeah," george said shortly.

it was as if he didn't want to talk to her at all, even though he's the one who called her.

"oh?" hearing shuffling in the background of the receiver, she smiled. "is john there?"

"oh, err... no, he's-"

but, before he could finish, someone took the phone and held it to their face. "'oo ze hell iz zis?" a german woman's voice met molly's ears.

"zis iz molly, 'oo eez zis?" she mocked her accent, thinking it was just paul or pete messing with her.

"du betrügst mich!" she yelled at george in german. "und zu denken, ich habe mit dir geschlafen!" with that, a slam came from the phone line.

molly looked down in confusion, quietly setting the phone back on the wall.

stick's shower must've ended because he was already dressed and ready to leave with new clothes on.

"who was that?" he questioned, grabbing a blueberry muffin from the hotel counter.

all she did was shake her head because she truly didn't know who it was at the end. "i... just george, i hope."

                                          *

"did georgie tell you?"

john brushed past her quickly, grabbing her elbow as he did, whispering this remark into her ear. he walked past her and left her to nod yes or no.

she could only muster a shrug. "about what?" she mouthed from across the hall. just as she mouthed that, george came into view, paul and stu trailing behind. john shook his head and grinned at her.

molly thought it had to do with the phone call, but she didn't know what that could possibly be about. she didn't really care if george had a secret lover or a prostitute. it wasn't nice to gossip, she thought.

"molls, are you staying for the show tonight?" paul came up to her and raised his eyebrows with the question.

"i- uh, i think so," she told him. he tried to walk away, but molly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "why do john and pete keep asking about george as if i know something?"

paul nervously chuckled and opened his mouth to speak. "you don't know?"

"well, he called me earlier and this german woman hung the phone up on me..." she explained, looking past paul and seeing john and stu staring at them.

it was almost time for the show, she could tell. the band was being announced just as paul scoffed. "you don't have to worry about it, dear," once again, he tried to push past her with his guitar to get on stage, but she wouldn't let him.

"james paul mccartney, tell me what's going, or so help me god," she threatened, squeezing his ear and gritting her teeth.

paul shrugged his way out of her grip and sighed. "george had a lady friend over last night!" he managed to finally get away from her and onto the stage, giving a fake smile to the crowd.

she watched as george anxiously looked over to paul, then behind himself to molly with a foolish smirk and cocked eyebrows on her face.

he gave a couple of 'ha ha ha's and prepared for the show to come. molly decided against going out into the crowd and joining stick and his friends, but only because she didn't want to end up as drunk as she was the night previous.

instead, she sat on the ugly couch and watched from behind. she picked up on the small things george did with his guitar. what pete did with the drums. the strange faces john made while singing. paul's posture and how laid back he looked to be playing to around two hundred people.

he was so cool, to molly. they all were, in fact. except for george, who she'd always seen as just good ol' georgie. now he was georgie the player. she couldn't believe he finally did it. he'd sure talked about it enough, so she guessed it made sense he did it.

but, a prostitute? molly would've thought he'd go for a more sensible lady. george regularly thought the same about her. why john? he always found himself asking that question.

of course, george never thought john would go for her. at all. that all changed as soon as he saw the way john sometimes looked at her in hamburg. john was getting enough women in hamburg, so why'd he have to ruin molly, too?

thankfully, molly never picked up on it. george didn't plan on telling her, either.

he just hoped john didn't.