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" What would you think if I sang out of tune?
Would you stand up and walk out on me? "
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I got out of bed at around 9am, it was finally the weekend! However, I couldn't help but be a little upset when I soon realized that John had left before I had woken up. Suddenly, the phone began to ring off the hook.
"Ello!" I answered in a joyful voice.
"Ello there, Paulie!" Geo's voice echoed through the phone. I was slightly disappointed that it wasn't John.
"...How're ye, Geo?" I asked with a slight disappointed sigh.
"Ah, I'm lovely! That record ye got me is bloody amazin'." He exclaimed. "Not one single scratch!"
"Glad ye like it, it was the last of me money, after all." I said a little gloomy.
"Oh, Paulie... always been such a charmer." He replied sarcastically, "Ey, did ye wanna come over today?" He asked me. "Ye can come listen to it, then!"
"S- Sure!" I agreed, my voice lightening up.
"Alright, meet me by the Snack Shack in a bit." He said, hanging up the phone.
Man...
Should I tell him about John and I? He is my best mate, after all.
No, fuck, ofcourse I can't. He'd probably react horribly to learning such a thing about my life and then quit talking to me immediately thereafter. I really do hate keeping these things from him, though. I know that eventually this issue will grow larger, but right now isn't the time to worry about it. All who has the right to know is John and I, after all.
Soon enough, I was trotting down the road to the little café. I hadn't been here since John and I had lunch. Walking in gave me slight butterflies. We were sitting peacefully, eating our meals, when we both turned to the opening front door.
It was John. Because ofcourse.
Dear, Lord.
George immediately looked a bit annoyed, "Can't go one day wi' out this bloke getting involved, eh?"
I gulped and looked over at John, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he ran over to our table. George rolled his eyes.
"Mornin', lads!" John scooted into the same booth as me.
"Ello, Lennon." George grumbled.
"'How're ye?" I asked, tilting my head towards the boy, propping my head up with my hand, elbow rested against the diner table.
"Jus here to get lunch, really. Been tryin' to ring ye all morning, Macca... Say, what are ye doing after all this?" John asked.
George's face was emotionless, "Nothin' of yer concern, why?"
"...Well, I've got band practice later and I was wondering if Paul- uh... if ye lot would like to come wi' us!" John was explaining.
"Not a chance." George glared.
"Sure!" I said at the exact same time.
George sighed and we all got up and followed John back to his house. A few days ago when John and I had that fight, he had mentioned him letting me join his band. Was that what this was about?
We walked into his house and I smiled once I saw the familiar surroundings.
"Where's yer Auntie?" I asked.
"Oh! She ain't home right now, thankfully, but I do have... some other people comin' that ye oughta meet. They'll probably be here soon, too." John led us up to his room as he explained.
"Yer bandmates, hm?" I wondered.
"Yep... Ye've already met one of them, actually." John scratched his head awkwardly as he spoke. "Hope ye don't mind... He's quite uh... protective of me, in a prickish way. ...I think that's how ye put it."
I furrowed my brows.
George stayed silent most of the time, that was until we heard a knock at the door.
"Ey, think yer friends are here, John." George announced in a monotone-voice.
We all walked downstairs and greeted them at the door.
Stu was standing right infront of us... The boy with black hair who insulted me awhile back. I immediately shot a glare at him as he entered the house. The boy next to Stu had a curly box-cut hairstyle. Stu stayed silent; He probably recognized me. However, the other boy immediately introduced himself in a cordial manner.
Stu leaned into John's ear, but was absolute shit at whispering, "Yer still hangin' around wi' this ol' bloke?" John elbowed him.
"Oh! 'Ello, the name is Pete Best. Didn't realize that... Lennon was having company ova', today..." He said, closing the door behind him and Stu. "Thas quite alright, though..."
We went back upstairs and sat on John's floor, John picked up his guitar and strummed it carelessly.
"Wait, wait, wait. Before we start, I have got to show ye guys somethin'. Let's jus call it... a little surprise." Stu says, opening up his rucksack he brought with him. Inside it was a bottle of Whiskey. Just seeing that shit only reminds me of my Father.
"Ey! Good idea, Stu!" Pete pat Stu's back and popped the cap off of the bottle. "Ye've always got the right plan in mind! Always thinkin' ahead!"
While Stu was fishing through his old messenger bag, John leaned down into his neck, trying his best to remain quiet. I guess I've got quite the ear, though.
"That Paul... He's got somethin', hasn't he?" John asked.
I smiled... It's a compliment, right?
Stu laughed under his breath, "A girly face, I guess. Maybe if ye throw a cheap wig on him, ye can shag him like one, too."
John quickly fell back into his chair, a look of guilt appearing across his face.
He then examined Stu wearily, "Oi, Sutcliffe, ye think thas a good idea? To drink? We've yet to write any music in weeks."
Stu rolled his eyes, "Quit bein' such a pansy, John." He took a swig from the bottle. "When have ye decided to become so soft? ...Ye want some, or not?"
John thought for a moment, then happily obliged. After taking a quite large gulp, he reeled back from the spiced, harsh taste.
Before we knew it, everyone in the room was knackered, even George and I. Doubt anyone will be making any music today. Stu, Pete and John all joked amongst eachother while George and I kept quiet.
"S'alright if I leave the bottle here, yeah?" Stu asked, sitting the bottle of Whiskey down on the table. "My parents would murder me if they knew I'd been drinkin' again."
"Ye- Yeah, thas fine." John nodded, barely able to keep his eyes open.
"Right, well wi' that, I think we oughta leave, now." Pete stood up and walked up to Stu.
"Ye've only been here but an hour or so... Haven't done anythin' productive, either." George hissed.
"Oi sorry, mate, didn't realize ye were in the band!" Stu shot back fiercely.
"Can we jus go, Stu, no need for fightin'." Pete tried to simmer down the situation.
"Whateva'." And with that, Stu and Pete grabbed the rest of their belongings. "Let's leave John to be wi' his poofer friends, eh?"
The two lads left the house, Stu in a much more angered state than Pete.
"Oi, they seem like really nice, well-tempered people, Lennon. Ye really know how to pick 'em." George said sarcastically with a slight edge to his words.
"Poofer, eh?" I interjected.
"It means, queer, Paul." George hissed.
"Oh, trust me, I've learned." I replied half-heartedly.
John groaned, "They've jus got no passion for music... It's so blatant! Dunno why I eva' even tried to get them into it in the first place!"
"What do ye mean?" I asked, tilting my
head back.
"Well, Stu was never into music, ye know? He's always been more of a painter, believe it or not. An artist, yeah, but... in his own right. I pretty much dragged him into my craft. Pete was his good friend, so naturally, he joined us, too. They really only jus come here to get wasted and leave." John explained solemnly. "Why can't they jus drink at their own bleedin' houses?"
"Hey! Atleast they bring free booze." I laughed, still pretty tipsy. I looked over at George, he just looked absolutely miserable.
"I jus can't help but be bothered by the fact that I am the only one who actually gives a shit about music in this so-called band!" John picked up his guitar and began strumming carelessly again.
"John?" I asked.
"Yeah?" John looked up, his hair softly framing his face.
"George and I play, ye know?" I nodded.
"Wi' what, exactly? Yerselves?" John giggled a bit, "...I can tell ye that ye don't go blind, but very short-sighted." He humorously fiddled with the spectacles on his nose,
"No! Instruments! Guitars! Singing!" I exclaimed.
"Nuh-uh. Don't get me involved in this trainwreck, McCartney." George furrowed his brows.
"Oh c'mon, Geo." I begged.
"No! I don't have the time to play a part in this band-fantasty wi' ye lot. So, quit beggin'!" George stared me down, becoming more annoyed.
"He's not wrong, Macca. Ye lads don't need to get involved wi' us. I don't wanna waste yer time." John sighed, wrapping an arm around my neck. George looked slightly unsettled by this action.
I shrugged his arm off me and stepped infront of the older boy, "I truly think we could turn this band around, though!" I tried very hard to convince John. "I mean, ye said so yerself, ye were gonna let me join the band!"
"When'd this happen?!" George asked in frustration.
"Okay, if ye truly think ye can make miracles happen. I'll drink to that..." John winked as he took a swig off his cup, sending chills all over my body.
"As long as those two are in the band, ye can count me out. No one can fix them!" George got up and made his way towards the door. "And it's gettin' late, Paul, we should jus go..."
I bit my bottom lip, feeling so conflicted. I wanted so badly to just spend the night at John's. We haven't been affectionate at all yet and that bothers me. I know we have to keep it a secret and all, but I don't know how much longer I can hold back. I just want alone time with him, is that so much to ask?
"Actually, Geo, I think I may stay here..." I said softly, expecting a horrible reaction.
"Whateva', McCartney..." He said, slamming the bedroom door. He left the house pretty quickly.
"Why is he so angry... all of the time... but mostly only around me, love?" John asked, putting his arm around my neck.
Love, huh? Love is all you need.
"Everytime we make up, I do somethin' even more stupid than before and it makes things jus that much worse. That's all." I rubbed my face in exhaustion, "How can I make ye guys become friends? Seriously? I've tried everythin' and he's just... so... so..."
"Bitchy?" John asked. He walked over and kissed my forehead before wrapping his arms around my torso. "I'm sorry, Macca. I tried me best to make this a good day for us, but nothin' can be good 'round Stu and Pete." He laughed a little bit. "Don't even know why I thought it was a good idea to invite ye guys ova' when I knew those two idiots would be here. Can't even really blame George for hatin' me guts."
"Well, why're ye friends wi' 'em, then?" I looked up into John's eyes and asked.
"Well... I guess that... most people at school wouldn't bother approaching me 'till I met Stu, Pete and their friends. It's real embarrassing, honestly, to admit it. But... Then one day, I told them abou' the band I was tryin' to start. Couldn't find anyone else who cared. After that, they jus kinda started showing up at my house wi' alcohol and callin' themselves me bandmates." John explained to me with sorrow in his voice. "Dunno how to tell 'em I don't really need 'em... Wi' out losin' friends, ye know?"
"Ye gotta be stronger than that, John! George and I could help ye grow yer band and we'd take things seriously, too! We can be yer actual bandmates." I smiled as we layed down in his bed.
"Ye tell yer father ye'd be spendin' the night, right?" John asked me.
"Shit!" I exclaimed, quickly dashing to the telephone. "Jus a second."