I'm With the Beatles

Another Girl

"Oh?" she addressed.

"Look, I'd rather us talk somewhere private..." I expressed with importance.

She slowly placed the outfit she was marveling back on the rack. Her eyes shifted back to mine and she seemed a bit annoyed.

"Like where?"

"Maybe we can just go outside and sit on a bench. It won't take very long..."

Suddenly, Cynthia came bouncing over with her newly acquired dress covered in a bag. She froze when she noticed the girl that I took the place of as being Paul's girlfriend.

"H-hi, J-Jane," Cynthia stammered.

"Cynthia? Wait, you know this bird?" Jane jousted at the blonde.

Cynthia grew silent as she, too, noticed Jane's sudden pinch of anger. She glanced over to me, then shot a stare down at her feet.

"I-I have to go... I'll get otha limo fer ye, Lizzie."

And with that, Mrs. Lennon vanished. The only trace that was left of her was her rose perfume. I cried silently as I turned my attention back to the redhead who was fitting right in with her hair color.

"'Ow does Cynthia Lennon know ye?" she questioned through gritted teeth.

"We're friends..."

"Hmmph, I bet it's because she feels sorry for such a wannabe Beatle girl!"

"What does that mean?" I growled.

"Look, I know all about yer little fling with Paul. 'E doesn't love ye. 'E only wanted to take things slow with me. So, if ye knew any betta, you'd stay the 'ell away," she hissed.

"How did you even find out that he was even in love with me?"

"Ha," she roared, "let's just say I 'ave friends that work fer the press. And, sweetie, 'e doesn't love ye."

"Oh, is that so? We'll just see about that. Nice to meet you again, Jane."

I flipped my light hair and turned away to walk to the long vehicle that was idling for me.  

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"Oh, God, Lizzie! What 'appened?"

Cynthia was waiting in the lobby for my arrival and encased me in a hug when I appeared.

"Oh, yer shaking!"

"It's ok, I just had to say a few words to her..." I sighed. I wished I could've used something other than words, but that wouldn't have helped.

"It'll be alright, darling. No matta what 'appens, I'll be 'ere for ye," Cynthia cooed as if she were my mother.

"Thank you. Where are the guys?"

"Well, they've finished rehearsals and now they want to fish. Do ye want to go? Because I'd undastand if ye didn't-"

"Yes, Cynthia. I want to be with Paul," I uttered.

"Oh, goody-goody! Now I won't be the only bird there!"

I wish that wasn't the case with my relationship.

"Cynthia?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you think Paul really loves me?"

"Well...Would it 'elp to say 'e almost ripped me 'ead off when I came back without ye?" she giggled.

"Hehe, well if he would've done that, I would've ripped something important of his!"

We both laughed as we climbed the stairs to our rooms.  

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I knocked upon the door and heard shuffling from the inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me!"

"Lizzie?!"

The door swung open and there he was, standing with a grin stuck to his beautiful face. He looked me over, then scooped me into his arms, kissing me as if there were no tomorrow.

"Paul," I giggled, "I'm okay!"

"I missed ye so much," he moaned as he shut the door behind us. His fingers traced along my shoulders.

"I was only gone for a couple of hours!"

"It felt like a couple of years to me," he whispered into my neck. I shuddered against his warm breath.

"Do you want me to come with you to go fishing or not?" I ranted. He pulled back.

"Of course I do! 'ere..."

Paul turned and handed me a outfit lined with blue and white and decorated with anchors.

"This isn't some sort of kinky wear, is it?" I wondered.

"Haha, no! I thought ye needed to look smashing fer the occasion," he confessed.

"Paul, you really need to stop getting me stuff like this. I already had clothes to wear!"

"Nonsense! Yer me girl, so ye deserve everything yer heart desires!"

"I desire for you to not buy me so much stuff," I cried with a hint of despair.

"What's wrong with ye? Ye seem so....aloof now. Stop acting like that," he inflected.

"I'm not acting in any way! You're the one who's shoving things down my throat!"

He released his grip on me and sat on the bed, pulling his shoes on.

"Ye know, wear whateva damn clothes ye want...." he mumbled.

He got up and left, slamming the door. I couldn't help but sink to the carpet, tears flooding my vision. I reached for the sailor outfit and stared hard at it.

"He won't let me be myself...." I silently cried.