Chapter 13

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If George has expected that he'll come back to the normal life after this, he was wrong. If he has hoped that everything will be just like before, he was mistaken. If he wanted peace, escape from fear and treacherous thoughts, he didn't receive it.

Harrisonhnly received more pain. Just as Ringo said. He was like a shadow, moping around without any purpose, caught in a half-life, too numb and burnt out to cry. Right when he came home after breaking up with Ringo, he went to a bathroom and far away from the telescreen's sight cried for a long time, feeling nausea. Finally, the man pulled himself together, because the more he'd let his complicated emotions take over, the more dangerous it'd be. So he closed himself off, cut out feelings. Transformed into a machine the Party wanted him to be from the beginning — well, at least he wanted to, because anyway it didn't last long.

He came back to work as if nothing has happened, performing all duties more conscientiously than ever, trying to not take any day off and drown in papers. He even visited family a few times.

It hurt so much. So damn much. George couldn't even describe the inner pain, demanding to be still felt, trying to maintain the mantle of normality, and in his own company curling up under the sheets. He cursed that damn mind that wouldn't let him forget Richard even in dreams.

One day the young man met Ringo in the Ministry's hallway. He almost froze, feeling, that his perfectly created mask is turning into dust. Telescreens were watching them though, so he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. They walked past each other, avoiding their gazes. Just for one second they shared quick glances. There was a sadness and longing in Starkey's big blue ones.

Even that one, short meeting with his ex-lover made him feel like an electric shock came through his entire body, sending chills down his spine and making it hard to snap out of.

Harrison hated dreams. Hated and loved so much in the same time. They were happy and safe in them, in the world where love wasn't something illegal, the biggest crime. This utopia was so hard to imagine. It appeared in his dreams, sunken in the sunlight, free, where people smiled to each other in the streets, as if that was the most common thing ever, and musicians sung silly loves songs, stealing hearts. In this world they were hugging, without regard for time.

And he was always waking up.

Why did it have to hurt so much? Why?

George thought... no, he hoped that he'll eventually cut off every contact with Richard, throw him out of his head, be able to fall out of love. But merciless fate made gun of him again. He was in love far too much to simply stop thinking about the blue-eyed man, so he moped around like a child lost in the mist.

A week after breaking up with Ringo he saw John Lennon in the lunchroom. The man looked him in the eyes, and when they moved closer, he whispered clearly and bluntly:

"Arsehole."

For a second the sheer contempt burnt in John's eyes, followed by raising his chin and walking away quickly as if nothing happened, leaving Harrison in a state of shock. He barely abstained from shaking.

Was this whole world going to remind him how much he has fucked up things?

He didn't know what the future was holding though. He wasn't aware of the spiral of events that were going to happen.

* * *

George was sitting in his own, small room, reading some trashy set of propaganda called a book for some reason. But it was only an excuse to freely drift away and stray through dreams, from behind a safe barricade of pages, trying to seem like a common Party adorer.

Being Party adorer. In dreams.

He was throwing every thought about Ringo out of his mind with a grim determination. Until he came to a point of realization that he'll go crazy if he'll stay here any longer. So the young put the useless book back and took his coat. He had to take a breath of fresh air badly, because the wave of claustrophobia was coming, as if the small flat's walls were closing around him, leaving no way to escape.

The darkness fell on Earth outside and only few citizens walked around the streets. Harrison passed nervously some Thoughts Police officer. Luckily, they didn't even bother to look at him. The man entered one of the most dingy streets, when he noticed a silhouette of a man in the darkness. Saving electricity made lanterns useless, so he couldn't recognize, who is this.

The person walked in George's direction. Harrison swallowed, not sure what to do. Was it a thief? A murderer? Was he about to die? What if...

The man took his hand. "Harrison!"

The younger one blinked, surprised. "John?"

Brown eyes of his friend, hidden behind the glasses, shone in the darkness. He looked upset though. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same question, you know?"

"I need your help."

Lennon's words threw Harrison off the scent — he froze. Their last meeting certainly wasn't all nice. Why the older one suddenly needed something and why George should even bother to care? He opened his mouth so say something, protest.

But John didn't wait for an answer; he ran, still holding his friend's hand, leading him into the older one's house direction.

//A/N: Oh my, I'm so sorry that you had to wait one month only for this short chapter. But hey, cliffhanger!
I'll promise the next updates are gonna be quicker.
Don't forget about feedback and Big Brother!//

Nineteen Sixty-Four // StarrisonрдЬрд╣рд╛рдБ рдХрд╣рд╛рдирд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рд░рд╣рддреА рд╣реИрдВред рдЕрднреА рдЦреЛрдЬреЗрдВ