Magnetic: A Live Wire Sequel

Chapter 7

Paul’s POV

I grasped Laila’s hand tightly in mine as we ran towards the doors. I felt her hand slip from mine for a moment and turned around to see a guard toting her away. She shot me a panicked expression and I raced towards her.

“Let her go,” I demanded in growl. The security guard dropped her and she ran into my arms. “Don’t you dare touch my wife again.” His eyes widen and he turned pale. I turned promptly and we hurried inside. I kept my arms around her until we made it to the room

Days passed, dozens of interviews took place, but we mainly stayed inside the hotel. George got a fever, 102, I think. And Justice and Laila started giving him all their attention. Her assistance did help, though, and his fever broke not a day before the show. And all that day and the next, all he wanted to do was play his guitar to make sure he was perfect. It defiantly showed. The night of Ed Sullivan, Laila and Justice stood off to the sidelines, watching the entire show. John, Ringo, George, and I hung in the dressing room.

“I’m nervous,” George tapped his foot impatiently on the floor as he waited for someone to tell us it was time.

“Oh, don’t be nervous, Georgie. I’ sure all those years of wanking off to Bridgette Bardout did wonders for your wrist muscles.” John laughed from the mirror.

“Come off it, mate.” George scowled at the ground. There came at knock at the door and a voice calling us to the stage. I stood up and sighed.

“Here we go.” I was being eaten by nerves inside. I opened the door and left the room, the others close behind me. I heard John and Ringo muttering behind me. I tried to ignore them and walked straight to Laila.

“ Ello, luv.” I pulled her to my side, my hand on her waist. She smiled up at me and kissed my cheek.

“Hey. Excited?” she asked. I began tapping my foot and running my fingers through my hair. “Relax. You will do great.” She turned towards me and started messing with my tie. “I know.” She smiled up at me, but I was too worried to really react other than how I was right then.

I started thinking about all the people out there that were already shouting our names and all the viewers at their homes, in front of the telly. This is the way every American with think of us. If I mess this up, we are toast.

“Paul…” I vaguely heard. “Paul.” My eyes darted back down to hers, having found myself in a daydream of misdemeanors.

“Huh?” I stammered. She smiled and pressed his soft lips to mine. I just stood there, my hands on her hips, her hands on my face. The kiss deepened. I gently nudged my tongue through her honey flavored lips right as they called us to the stage. I felt her luscious lips yanked away from mine as a hand grabbed my arms and dragged to the microphone I shared with George. I watched her shrug as I was carted off; and when the bass was in my hands, she gestured for me to smile. I did, very easily, and then the curtains opened. Show time!