𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

julia (part two) | john ☻

era: 1972 (post beatles)
name: hallie

the building was suddenly in front of me. i had no recollection of how or when i got there. i was just... there. it must've been sometime after dark. maybe eight or nine. i felt a small pull toward the building as it stood there. 105 bank street, greenwich village.

then i remembered why i came.

john lennon invited me.

"hallie! there 'ye are!" i heard a voice come from above me. i tilted my head up and saw a figure hanging out of a window, waving at me like a maniac. "come up!"

with slight hesitation, i slowly walked toward the front entrance. the dim lights faintly lit up the sidewalk, so i made sure i was careful walking up the steps. i wore a black dress and a furry cardigan with some boots. comfortable as usual.

as i hiked all the way into the building, into the elevator and up the way, i felt my heart begin to race. for the second time, i would be meeting john lennon. playing his piano. maybe playing other of his instruments. who knew.

i finally met his floor. my feet touched the ground and i felt warmth spread throughout me. the temperature was nice and warm compared to the cool spring nature outside. remembering his room number—28–i adventures further down the hall until i reached it. i just stood there for a moment before doing anything else.

what would come of this visit? more visits? would yoko be there? of course, she would, but what if she wasn't? would john try to make a move? what if he did? why would he, anyways?

finally, after what must've been a minute or two, i briefly knocked on the door. instantly, it swung open and i was greeted by the giddy face of john lennon.

"you made it, hallie, darlin'" he grinned eagerly. "right this way, madam."

he led me back into his apartment with the slam of his door. and, alas, yoko wasn't there. "nice place you got here," i looked around, looking at the red-painted walls, marble countertops, wooden floors and a giant chandelier.

"thanks," he said, leaning his back against a cabinet. "we moved in here a few months ago."

i slowly ran my hands over the smooth surface of the paintings on the walls as i followed to where he was down the hall. "where's yoko?"

"i told her to leave for the night," he said, oh so nonchalantly. "she doesn't like visitors much, especially not other ladies." john called from the other room.

i stopped right in front of the door, presumably leading to a bedroom. i felt someone come behind me as i carefully dwindled toward the door.

"that's the music room, darling. would you like a peek?"

i chuckled slightly before nodding nervously and taking a deep breath. john reached around me and twisted the doorknob, opening the door to a room full of numerous instruments.

"wow," i marvelled at all the guitars, harmonicas, keyboards and bass'. there was even a small sitar leaned next to one of john's famous epiphones. "may i?" i crouched down next to one of his guitars—i couldn't distinguish which—and raised my eyebrows at him.

"please, do,"

i shortly grinned and took it into my hands with ease. i strummed the imperfect strings after wrapping the damaged strap around my torso. i made a c chord with my lanky fingers.