War

one

Q: How was it like after the Beatles broke up Paul?

A: Hell but I felt a sort of relief from the situation. A bit happier you could say.

Q: John has compared The Beatles breaking up to a divorce. What do you think about that?

A: *stutters* He did?

"Rubbish!" Paul exclaimed smacking the newspaper on the table. He looked at Linda and grinned wildly. "I did not stutter!"

"What you going do about that, Paul?" Linda laughed as she sat across the table from him.

"I'll sue em'!" He said trying to sound extra posh.

"Well it was just a transcript.." Linda cheekily smiled. It must've rubbed off on her.

"Oh lay off." He kissed Linda on the cheek. "I've got me some songwriting to do."

He slumped against the wall and picked up a pen. He tried to think of something. He really did. His mind was at a halt all because of the break up. He sighed and shifted through the stack of vinyls until.. Imagine there's no heaven It's easy if you try

Paul laid on his back looking at the celling now. He shuddered at the sudden coldness. He was accompanied with a particular boy named John Lennon since the age of 15. The name seemed funny to him now very strange. Paul rolled over on the floor hoping that warm arms would be there to catch him. That didn't happen. John wasn't there. In a flash of rage Paul snapped the vinyl. He somehow managed to get a deep cut on his wrist that was now spewing blood.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed. Linda appeared frightened looking at the cut. Then she looked at the floor and fluttered her eyelashes saying 'Come along now'. Paul was softly singing the tune to himself as Linda bandaged the cut up in silence.

"Thank you." He said reluctantly. "I mean it. I-I would've just let me bleed out."

"Paul!" Her eyes raged.

"I feel like I'm in this bathroom once a day."

"Well you missed one day. That was Saturday. I was very proud." She said ruffling his hair.

"It's odd cause I don't remember Saturday." Paul studied the clear cut across his cheek. Also the bags under his eyes. He scrunched his hair and a few fell out.

"Your going crazy, Paul." She was wide eyed at the hairs in Paul's hand. Paul realized and quickly hid it away. Trying make up fast excuses.

"It's nothing just a few." He continued standing up. "Happens to everyone."

"Yeah.." Her voice trailed. She carefully put materials into the kit as Paul stood and watched.

"Thank you, love." He smiled sweetly at her. Linda nodded. Paul was about to head out as he remembered something. The newspapers weren't in his room.

"Honey, where did you put the newspapers?"

"I threw them away." Paul gasped as Linda pushed past him making her way into the kitchen.

"Why would you do that? Your not suppose to be in that room in the first place! It's my studio." He spiraled.

"Cause I want you to get over it Paul." Linda turned looking stone cold at Paul. Paul's breath hitched and looked into the trashcan. He retrieved one of the many newspapers in the bin and read the title. How do you sleep? The bits on the Lennon/McCartney feud.

As much as Paul wanted to read on he couldn't when Linda was hovering over his shoulder. He has to pick in that moment. He threw the newspaper in the bin and Linda applauded him.

"Thank you, thank you. Such a lovely crowd." He bowed and plastered a smile on his face. Linda hung onto his side looking rather pleased.

"You did it. You really did it. If I would've known just a little push.."

"Ohhh. It's all gibberish anyways. I'll be better from now." Linda smiled and walked out of the room. Paul picked up the paper and all fell silent until Paul quietly said to himself.

"I'll be better tomorrow."