Everybody's Got Something to Hide

Help, I Think I'm In Love!

I paid the taxi driver and stepped out into the chilly morning air.

I couldn't believe that I was on my way to Paul McCartney's house at almost two in the morning.

Have you lost your mind? I asked myself as I climbed the steps to his extravagant home and boldly knocked on the door.

Not a second passed before Paul appeared in the doorway, smiling like an idiot and smelling of whiskey.

"Hi Evelyn," he slurred. "Come in, please."

He was still wearing the suit that he was in earlier that day, except now his shirt had come un-tucked and his hair was a mess.

"Did you even consider putting some pajamas on?" I asked him in a whisper, amused. "Or were you just gonna sleep in your suit?"

He smiled coyly. "Maybe you could change my clothes for me? I'm awfully tired."

I simply ignored him and rolled my eyes as I walked further into his home. I noticed that some of the pictures that had been up before were no longer there, but I decided not to ask him about it.

He wandered in behind me and walked upstairs towards his bedroom. He reappeared a few minutes later wearing a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I raised an eyebrow at him and quickly looked him up and down before he could notice, but unfortunately I wasn't quick enough.

"Like what you see, love?" he said, turning and doing a little dance for me. I let out a snort of laughter.

He laughed with me and made his way into the living room. I noticed he had something in his hand that looked like a cigarette, but it had a different smell to it. He lit it up and took a few puffs before I realized what it was.

"Do you smoke dope, Evelyn?" he asked nonchalantly, and I snickered at him.

"Paul, I grew up on a farm in Montana. What do you think?"

I strode over to him and sat across from him on the floor, taking the joint from his fingers and sticking it into my mouth. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you grew up in Montana."

I scoffed. "That's because you don't want to know anything about me, remember?"

He took another drag and gave me a dreamy smile.

"Now, why would I say something like that?" He took a puff before he handed the joint back to me and sat back himself comfortably on the couch.

I frowned. "Don't fuck around with me, McCartney," I said bluntly, blowing smoke in his direction. "I already know that you have no personal interest in me, so you don't have to start acting like it now."

He had a funny look on his face. "Yes, but that was before, Evelyn," he said so matter-of-factly. "It's different now."

I made a face at him and went to speak, but he quickly jumped in before I got the chance.

"Well, I'm starved," he stated. The strange look he had been wearing only moments ago had now vanished. "I think I'm going to go cook us up some dinner."

I raised my eyebrows. "At almost three in the morning?"

"Okay, an early breakfast then."

He got up and headed towards the kitchen and I didn't know what to do other than follow him. He whistled as he took out a box of pancake mix and put a pan on the stove, doing a little dance all the while. I found myself laughing at him. He gave me a questioning look, which made me laugh even harder.