The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱. ﾐ

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⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

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april 1859

"Aye! Welcome, come in."

It was the day of the party. The sun had already set, darkness that was as black as the ink on John's paper enveloping all around them like the comforting hold of a mother - accompanied by the twinkle of stars. A familiar sight during the night, of course. The moon was particularly bright that night, casting long shadows on the people's faces.

Excited, bright chatter and jazzy tunes filled the prince's buzzing ears, the many candles and lamps hung all around piercing into his vision, the dancing bodies of the guests distorting it. Beer in hand, he leant against the kitchen table, Paul next to him with an easy smile. The boy was seemingly in a good mood, goodnaturedly making conversation with people and humming along to the songs. The couple were now on their second beer, cheeks flushed and bodies warm with alcohol. John couldn't say the same for himself, though. Ever since he had seen Stu arrive at the party, his mood had soured considerably and he had kept to the kitchen since, avoiding conversation with most people and taking to glaring at the man from a distance. He hadn't spoken to him since his breakdown in the corridor, when the man has walked out on him when he was most vulnerable. Only had crossed uneasy gazes from across rooms or hallways every now and again.

The artist was pretty much having the time of his life, Astrid beside him with a lovesick grin of her own. He was supposed to leave for Germany the day after tomorrow at dawn. The reason why he was here was that George was amiable friends with him, and John kind of wished that his friend had not invited him.

But instead, he opted to stick next to Paul's side and brood, a hand subtly resting on the small of his boyfriend's back, ready to pull away the moment someone enters the kitchen and goes to the sink behind them.

"Oi McCartney! Gear party, eh?" A certain Mick Jagger sauntered over with a drunken grin, probably already tipsy even though the party was only an hour old. Mick didn't recognise John, which was good - he was in disguise similar to the one he had when going to the bar for Paul's audition - the auburn-haired boy only watched on with mild interest, still preoccupied with Stuart and Astrid.

"Yeah. Ye know Geo always throws the best parties." Paul agreed with a wiggle of an eyebrow, taking another sip of his beer.

"Dunno where 'e gets half the stuff fer it, though. No one can get that much bloody beer all on their own."

"Mostly from Rings, actually. His parents always 'ave a feasible stash too. But George's place 's better to have parties at 'cause his parents leave home a lot an' he gets stuck by 'imself."