you really got a hold on me | john lennon

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

November 16th, 1959

"Hey, love," I sit on top of his lap and rest my head on his chest. "I don't like seeing you all sulky like this. You know it isn't any of your faults that the band didn't advance in the Star Search."

"I know, darling. It's just that I really thought we would make it this time and we didn't. Downright drag, it is."

Yesterday was when their regional performance took place and let's just say it didn't go anywhere in the direction we hoped it would. Just hours after a seemingly perfect performance from Johnny and The Moondogs — the boys were all informed that they weren't able to advance to the next round of the competition. I thought it was some joke because when you would compare them to the other mediocre acts that made it onto the next round, this decision would leave you utterly confused about what their criteria were for this show.

And I think the only thing worse to them not advancing in the competition was seeing their reactions to it. You could just see the optimism that they had just a few days before burning down to ashes right in front of your eyes. It was an utterly awful thing to experience first-hand and see how they each individually took it.

"I know. The judges must be out of their ruddy minds with not allowing you three to advance and what-not."

"You don't have to keep on trying to make me feel better, Nat. It's alright. There must be somewhere we went wrong  —"

"Okay, how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't anybody's fault before you actually believe me, hm?" I lift my head from his chest and look at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, sorry. But don't you think about it sometimes too?"

"Not really, no. All I think is that maybe it wasn't meant to be or anything." Paul cocked his head to the side in confusion. "That sounded corny, didn't it?"

"Just a bit. But I get what you're trying to say." His sad look of frustration remained on his face, not changing by any amount.

"Do you have anything in mind to make you feel better? I'm open to anything, y'know? Nothing's off the table."

"Nothing?" His hands slowly make their way to the buttons of my shirt, eager to undo them all in the blink of an eye.

"Absolutely nothing."

At my response, Paul's shaky hands immediately go through each of the buttons of my dress shirt in a rush to get through them to me as fast as he could. And once he did, Paul ripped it off and threw it to the floor — a cold breeze immediately hitting my exposed back, causing goosebumps to arise.

I tangled my hands in his hair as Paul stood up and picked me up bridal style, his arms carrying me steadily. Our faces were inches away from each other now, my grey, gloomy eyes gazing dreamily into his brown, doe-eyed ones. He raises an eyebrow at me bewitchingly before his lips finally smash and collide with mine.

Paul hurriedly starts to make his way to the stairs to bring us to his room to give us two as much privacy as possible when the home phone starts to ring obnoxiously loud. Now of all the times that person could possibly call at it had to be now. He pulls away from my lips and annoyingly glares at the phone.

"Love, just answer it later. It can't possibly be that important." I start to kiss him again, convinced he wouldn't possibly take a call. Not now, anyway.

He pulls away once more as his eyes glance back and forth between my lips and the blaring phone. My eyes practically plead with him not to take it.

"It'll be just a moment, darling. Promise." Paul sets me down on the loveseat and grunts as he walks over to the phone. He takes in a sharp breath before answering the phone and putting on his best fake-nice voice that he could possibly pull. "McCartney Residence."

Paul keeps his eyes at bay at my chest, licking his lips every now and then at the sight of them. All of this could've been prevented if he hadn't taken the call, so you can't imagine at how pissed I was right now.

I twiddle with my thumbs awkwardly waiting for him to finish up the call because what else could I do? Guess I got too carried away with it to not notice Mike standing behind Paul with his mouth wide open. His eyes were looking directly at my chest — which was covered by absolutely nothing. Just my luck to not have worn a bra today, wasn't it?

Out of sheer shock and embarrassment, a squeak comes out of me. I roll over onto the floor, frantically scrambling to find my shirt from earlier that Paul had thrown to the side. When I finally found it after what felt like an eternity, I swiftly put it on and button it almost all the way up to cover myself.

Paul — who had miraculously not had noticed anything that had happened in the span of thirty seconds — slams the phone down in anger and then jumps at seeing Mike standing behind him.

"Was that Do –" Mike started, his arms crossed.

"Don? Why yes, of course, Don. Who would forget him?"

"Who's Don, love? I don't remember hearing about him before if I recall correctly." I crossed my arms to look up to him from where I was sitting on the floor.

"A new transfer student at school. Nice bloke." He looks at the love-seat where I was earlier before looking down at me. "Uh — what are you doing down there with your shirt back on?"

"Sounds like you two get on quite well if he calls here. You bringing him to a gig of yours anytime soon? And also, isn't it quite obvious why I have it back on?"

"He's a shy type, so probably not. But no, it isn't obvious —" He looks behind at Mike who was still standing close to him before looking like a lightbulb had gone on above his head. "Ohhhh."

"Oooooh, you two were about to shag, weren't you?" Mike says with an arrogant smile.

"Nooooo." Paul and I answered at the same time, though neither of us was probably being convincing in the slightest.

"Dad's gonna kill you if he finds out. Would be a shame if I told him."

"It would. But it's a good thing you aren't going to tell him. Because if you do, I'm gonna tell 'im that you had a party here last week."

Mike's face drops at the piece of information Paul had to his advantage before simply walking back out to the backyard. The both of us couldn't help but to laugh at how easy it was to weaken his threats against the two of us. This hadn't been the first time he'd threatened to tell Jim about something Paul and I were up to, so we were quite used to it by now.

I get up and sit on the love seat again, Paul sitting next to me with his smug smile still glued on his face from his success in black-mailing Mike. He then proceeds to rub his hand up and down my thigh — obviously still in the mood for something.

"Would you fancy a do-over? No interruptions this time."

"You've read exactly what's on my mind, Paul."

~~~

a/n: hi everyone! thanks so much for reading once again and i hope you enjoyed this chapter! it was quite hard for me to write this considering i have a bias of sorts for john (which many of you readers also have). my schedule for writing this should stay at a consistent update every wednesday, and if i ever stack up on enough chapters or have enough time i'll do a double update. anyways, that's all for now - i hope to see you at the next update! <33