are you still buckled in?
Some time in June of 1960
The two of them graduated secondary school just a few months ago, and John's on-and-off band was really becoming popular in the local spots. A bar or club here and there, and the band may be on their way to stardom, or at least a paid gig or two. Although he hated the idea of leaving (Y/n), the other opportunity he could never pass on came. The Quarrymen's transition into The Beatles could mean their big break! They had to try out the new name, the new music, all in Hamburg. Hell, maybe "Johnny and the Moondogs" could make it big in Germany. Perhaps even the world.
He didn't know the proper way to bring it up to her. John knew (Y/n) was a stand up gal, which the boys reassured him with before he asked her one fateful day.
Paul had already told Dot, his girlfriend, who arranged to go with the boys already, so it was only a matter of time before the news got to (Y/n). John gathered up his ribbon of courage, and went to tell the girl he loved.
"And you're going to be gone for how long?" she asked, brow raised.
They were holding hands, (Y/n) leaning over John's chest, as the two were lying down together on her bed. Her parents had gone out to a friends house to play cards, so there was no chance they'd be interrupted as they spoke. "I Only Have Eyes For You" was quietly spinning on the girl's record player in the background. A gift from John for Valentine's day, earlier that year.
"Not long, maybe..." he twiddled a thumb or two. "A year"
"That long? Cor..." she felt simply awful about the whole situation.
She wanted to be with John, how couldn't she? But, she didn't want to force him to stay in Liverpool. She got off of her bed, and paced slowly around the room.
She loved John, and wished to stay with him wherever he was going, but there was no way she could go to Hamburg with the band. Besides, she had a whole life back in Liverpool. And not to mention her parents... They'd never approve. She thought back to when they first met, when they studied sculpting together, when they went to the carnival. Her happy memories with John poured into her thoughts, all becoming tinged with worry. It was all too much to let go of, but she knew what would have been best for John. And that was good enough for her.
"It's fine. I want you to be happy. And if this is how, then I think you should go," (Y/n) willed herself to smile.
"Oh, this will be amazing! I promise not to let you down, love" he smiled so widely, (Y/n) was sure it must've hurt. "I'll call every week, no, every day! I love you, you know."
He gave her a quick kiss and ran home to tell his aunt the good news. Not to mention the boys.
Some time in August of 1960
Well, this is it, John thought. The last time he'd see (Y/n) for a long time. But he was hopeful. He planned on calling her weekly, if not every day. Not to mention the letters, he bought himself a new traveling stationery set, knowing they'd be put to good use very soon.
"I love you more then you'll ever know, Lennon," the girl said, doing her best to look happy for the man she cared so much about.
The boys were waiting for John in the van, they were late to picking up their translator, Herr Steiner, from a coffee shop a bit out of the way, which was called Heaven and Hell.
"I'll miss you dearly, love. I promise I'll keep in touch!" John smiled sadly.
The girl pulled him in for one last kiss, clutching his face gingerly as the boy did the same. John reciprocated the girl's endearing sense of desperation.
His collar was freshly pressed, holding a scent of clean linen and grass from when it was hung out to dry the day before. She hoped she'd never forget what John looked like on this day, for it would be all she'd see of him for a very long time.
They said their goodbyes and John was on his way, along with the boys and their manager Alan Williams. They shoveled themselves into a cramped green van, green like the cart from the ferris wheel, green like the skirt (Y/n) wore when she kissed her love goodbye.
Some time in October of 1960
For Lennon, keeping in touch with (Y/n) proved difficult after the initial weeks. Weeks. The letters arrived less and less, and so did the photographs and calls. He loved her, but it was so hard to keep up with the band and all, he really never had the time to stop and write out a heartfelt letter or make a twenty-minute call.
It was inconvenient. She was becoming inconvenient.
Sadly, (Y/n) was forced to wait for John, unsure of anything and everything they were doing. Hell, they could all be lost at sea and the girl wouldn't have a clue. She grew depressed, isolating herself in her room and refusing to move on. She lived alone at this point, by the docks. It was loud all the time, by people or the waves itself, but rent was cheap.
John couldn't keep himself preoccupied with knowing there was a girl who loved him dearly, separated only by the North Sea.
Unfortunately, John found himself in beds with other women.
Unfortunately, the letters stopped altogether.
Maybe (Y/n) was wrong. It certainly was possible. Was he so impatient that she wasn't considered "easy?" That she didn't "put-out" like other girls might've? He never even asked her. And he certainly didn't pressure her. What did he even want and how could she live up to his ridiculous expectations?
How was such a young go-getter expected to go steady and tie himself down to some girl? Some nobody?
But she wasn't just any girl. No, she was (Y/n)... (Y/n) (L/n). And she had a plan. Didn't she?
Maybe she was somehow wrong twice? Maybe there was just some error or communication and John was still sending those letters, and receiving nothing in return.
But she wouldn't keep making excuses for why or why not this did or did not happen. She was overthinking. But she would stop at nothing to find answers.
So she called George and Paul, but they didn't answer. She tried sending letters again, but they were no good in the end. She gave up, and dug herself into a rut. Unnoticed, unmotivated, unnecessary.
Back in Hamburg, however, the boys were having the time of their lives. They were teetering between fame and failure, a dangerous game, but isn't it an exciting one.
Never really having a place to sleep, staying up all night playing shows, the drugs, the slight illegality of the whole situation was exhilarating.
Juggling between gigs was difficult, but they met and made some new friends. Richard Starkey, for instance. He was the drummer for Rory Storm and The Hurricanes, and he was extremely talented. The band was practically in awe after watching the Hurricanes play. They were touring the same spots as the Beatles, which was nice for Paul, as his girlfriend was the sister to Rory himself.
Sometimes, when their current drummer, Pete, was sick, Richard, or Ringo for short, would fill in for him. Having this substitute drummer opened a new conversation for the other musicians. Could he be a better addition to the band than Pete? Or were they just glorifying them for being around a bit longer in the music scene.
Conversations like this kept John busy from thinking about (Y/n). It hurt him, but after cheating on her once, he felt like he had to do it again. This adrenaline, this chance of being caught, it was incomparable for John.
The rest of the band knew of their friend's blatant infidelity, but they were all simply too busy to tell him otherwise.
But the lows were possibly worse than the highs. The sheer regret John felt from cheating on (Y/n) discouraged him for a while, but he'd always go back, behind hers and to his old habits simultaneously.
And to think, (Y/n) didn't even have a clue.
LMAO MY DRAMATIC ASS CHOOSING THESE SONGS AHAHAHAHAH. ahem. continue.
The picture is of a street in Liverpool during one of the autumn months. I do not own the pictures, I only edited them.