Lonely People

Sick Little Georgie

"You look like a couple of posers," Reginald commented.

Molly glared at him, "Sod off, Reggie."

"Don't call me Reggie."

Regina placed a firm hand on Reginald's shoulder. He calmed down, if only slightly. Molly kept her gaze on him until I gently elbowed her.

We were wearing our Revolution outfits. Ellen had told us to wear them around the house a bit too 'break them in'. The outfit fits perfectly, the only problem was the stiff black boots she got us. They fit like cardboard boxes. Ellen insisted that they would become comfortable as soon as we wore them more.

"Come on, Reggie, let's go for a walk," Regina suggested.

Reginald simply followed her. She shot us an apologetic smile before leaving the house. Molly and I watched them go.

"I'm worried about him," Molly sighed, turning to gaze at herself in the mirror.

I placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, "He'll be fine. Regina'll keep him in line."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

Neither of us could say what we both feared. Whenever this subject was brought up, we quickly brushed it away. Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie were especially prone to avoiding the subject. They danced a poisoned waltz with the truth every time their son was mentioned.

The phone ringing interrupted us. Since Regina and Reginald left, Molly and I were the only two in the house. I squeezed her shoulders and smiled, "I'll get it, you keep admiring your beauty."

Molly rolled her eyes. I left the room cackling. Taking the steps two at a time, I made it to the front hall in a matter of seconds.

"Mackenzie residence, Amelia speaking," I answered.

"Why do you always answer the phone?" John replied.

I shrugged, "Lucky, I s'pose. Seems like I always answer it when you call."

"You're a bloody stalker, you are," John laughed, "You busy tonight?"

"Not really. Molly and I were going to stay in tonight."

"Change your plans, we need a stand in for George."

I lifted an eyebrow, "What happened to George?"

"Sick. Got a cold, he does. Says he can't play while he's busy sneezing."

I shook my head. He seemed to be the most prone to colds than any of the other lads. Just in the past year, he's had two while the rest of us remained healthy.

George had been giving me a month of guitar lessons by then. I wouldn't say I was the best, but I wasn't the worst. I definitely wasn't good enough to go on stage and play. I would ruin the show, or worse, the fans would revolt. If they thought I was replacing George, they would fight back, just like they did with Ringo. 

"I'm not that good," I argued.

John groaned, "This isn't a question of your fucking self-confidence, Melly, we need a stand in and you're our only option."

I could hear three other voices in the background. Two could be recognized as Paul and Ringo, and the other as Brian trying to hush them. Paul's voice gradually became louder.

"I'm bloody talking, Macca, fuck off!" John suddenly exclaimed.

The phone became overtaken with the sounds of a fight. I could tell John and Paul were fighting over the phone. Pulling it away from my ear, I patiently waited for them to be done.