oh! darling ~paul mccartney~

twenty two • and your bird can sing

i smiled. maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

"what about me?" ella asked impatiently, snapping me out of my thoughts. the boy looked at her and pondered.

"what's your name?"

ella sighed. "ella white."

"well then, ella white, i believe we have another opening as a waitress here."

ella and i caught glances and i winked at her. dave went back into the kitchen and came back with a clipboard. he scanned the paper on it with the back of his pen and nodded.

"you both start next monday, and savannah, you start singing next wednesday. as for uniform goes, anything blue will work."

we smiled large, gracious smiles at him, thanking him, and turning to walk out the door. i sighed immediately after stepping outside.

"ell, what did i get myself into! why did i say yes?"

she laughed. "you'll be just fine! you have rocker paul mccartney who performs for a living as a boyfriend, im sure he'll be more than happy to give you pointers."

i nodded. i wasn't going to tell paul about my new singing job yet. i knew he would want to see me my first night, which could go horribly wrong at any moment. i'd want to spare paul that secondhand embarrassment.

we had made our way back to our house, my mind clouded with regret at what i had signed up to do. at least i only had to do it two days a week at the most.

i made my way up to my room in our house, flopping onto the bed and sighing. i needed to find out a set to do with what songs i wanted, i needed to practice, and i needed to get over my fear of stage fright. oh, why did i say yes?

i groaned and took a few small steps to the drawer that held paul's notes he wrote me while i was away. looking at them while running my fingers over the dried ink and reading them over and over again always comforted me.

i opened the drawer and reached down, only to feel a small slip of paper, which i recognized as the unfamiliar number i found on my floor.

my anxiety was getting the best of me and i thought of the worst for this damn number. i had faith, though.

i hastily put it back and took out the letters paul had sent to me, rereading once again. i needed something else to take the stress of my new job away, something bigger.

i slipped on a pair of shoes and and made my way out the door.

•

"sav, what are y-"

"don't ask questions, we're going out."

i reached for paul's hand and tried dragging him out of his door, but he wouldn't budge.

he raised an eyebrow. "but why? this isn't like you," he questioned suspiciously.

i shrugged, my hand still in his. "i know it isn't, but i want to do this, come on!"

i tried dragging him again, still no movement.