These Boys (A Beatles Fan Fiction)

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This is a fan fiction for the legendary Beatles!! Note: This story is set in more modern times, and is not totally based on facts!! I hope you enjoy my story! Thanks for reading!


"What the hell are you doing."

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Making an idiot out of yourself"

"No, I'm practicing my headstand"

I struggle to keep my feet in the air.

"Give it a rest John, that dumb contest is one you'll never win."

"Pfft, I'm atleast going to try. It's £200 for first place"

"You could atleast try doing something you're good at"

My feet thump to the floor with frustration. My temper isn't always the best .

"Like what." I'm honestly curious of what Pete thinks I'm talented at.

After a minute of pausing he responds with, "Masterbating?"

"Shut up, something I can do publically you wanker"

"I dont' know John, you're pretty good at English, maybe you could write a poem or something"

A poem? I hadn't thought of that... "Maybe..." I respond hesitantly.

I've been spending the past 4 hours at my friend Pete's house, while my aunt runs errands a few towns over. No one's here to give me a ride, and I'm far too lazy to walk all the way home.

"Well, you're better at writing than standing on your bloody head."

I frown. "I'm getting better" I repy, though I'm not sure I am.

Pete is pretty blunt. If he has an opinion, he tends to just blurt it out, which has caused him to get his arse kicked quite a few times. Besides this, he's fun to hang out with, but isn't as likely to take risks as me. For example, his room. It's a light blue, and has remained that way his whole life. His parents are always trying to make him change the damn color, but he's too stubborn. Pete claims he's afraid the new color will look horrible, but I think it also is just that he doesn't want to have to take everything off the walls. I wouldn't really blame him. Pete has hung almost every poster imaginable. He has from The Rolling Stones news clippings to B-52's album covers to Nirvana concert posters. Along with that he tapes up a lot of pictures. Not even like family pictures, just random pictures. He'll photograph a rock, print the picture and past it on his wall.

"Hey, John do you know when you're leaving?" Pete interupts my thoughts as he glances at his phone.

Just a few minutes previously my aunt had texted that she'd be by to pick me up soon. "Actually, Mimi should be here in about 10 minutes"

Pete nods and sure enought, on the dot 10 minutes later Mimi's toyota rolls up.


Before I can even step out the door Mimi has slamed a hand onto the horn to signal me to leave.

"Hello Mimi." I plainly greet her as my body makes contact with the nylon car seats.

Her mouth carves a content smile, pleased with my polite greeting "How was Pete's?"


"What did you do?"


"Did you eat?"




"Good." She pauses thinking of another question to fire "How was school?"


I don't like to answer her questions in depth mostly because I don't need to. Mimi likes to ask a lot of little questions, versus a couple in depth questions. I like to answer most of them with "fine" or "good" and sometimes just, "I don't know".

We continue with the routine inquiry until reaching home. There I sink back into my room and practice my head stands, that is until the blood has turned my cheeks a cherry color, and my head begins to ache.

It's almost midnight when I hear a chime come from my laptop.

One New Message

Apparently someone messaged me on facebook.

Clicking the notification, I see the message is from someone I'm not quite familliar with.

It's a boy around my age, with a cheesy grin as a profile picture.

Apparently his name is Paul McCartney.

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