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" Golden slumbers fill your eyes!
Smiles await you when you rise!
Sleep, pretty darling,
do not cry...
and I will sing a lullaby. "
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circa 1964,
It has been several months since we all graduated from secondary school. Even more months since we released our first album. Now, we had much more music on the way.
Everything was different, so much changing all at once. I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't overwhelming.
Now, we are in the middle of our first tour. An actual Goddamn tour! Before it officially begins, tonight we are going to be playing the Ed Sullivan show, our first show in America. People say if you make it this far, you're catching a big break.
"C'mon, Paulie, we oughta get ready to be on stage." George told me.
I stared down at the comb in my hand, "Ye sure yer not nervous, Geo?"
"When'd I say I wasn't nervous? Ye know how I feel abou' performin' in public." George exclaimed. "Nothin's changed."
I scoffed, "Oh, c'mon, Georgie, we've performed hundreds of times before."
"So?! We're not exactly immune to criticism, after all." George shook his head. "John still gets flack for shoutin' 'Heil Hitler!' back in bloody Germany."
I scoffed, "The man was knackered, he didn't mean anything by it."
"What's our first song we're playin' tonight, lads?" Ringo asked as he entered the room, interrupting George and I's little dispute.
"I Want To Hold Your Hand, ofcourse." John said, putting my hand in his own. "It's a right hit!"
"How smooth." I joked.
He lifted my hand up and kissed my knuckles, "Oh, ye live for this, Macca." He smiled, "Don't even act like ye hate it."
I blushed, "C'mon, we gotta set up for the show, yet."
"Right, well then, lets go." John nodded and patting my back for me to walk forward.
We hopped onto the stage with the curtains still drawn shut. We set up Ringo's kit in place and hooked up all the amps we needed for the night. Before curtain call, I went to the nearest mirror and tidied up my suit and tie for the billionth time. Ever since Brian's been our manager, he always insisted on us looking neat and pristine.
"Yer tie isn't gonna get any straighter, Paul." George laughed, carrying his guitar in his hands.
I rolled my eyes and turned to face the lad, "Can never be too sure." I stepped forward, "It's our first performance in the States, after all. I wanna look me best."
"Georgie!" Ringo called out from the center stage. "C'mere for a moment, need help liftin' this bloody amp."
George quickly turned to the direction of the noise, "Comin'!"
I cleared my throat and looked back into the mirror and smiled deeply at my reflection.
"Ye've got this, ye've made it this far, yeah? What's the difference between here and a little night club." I smiled, "Oh yeah... national television."
John peered around the corner and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, "Ye look stunning, darl'."
My face turned a deep shade of pink and I looked up at the boy, "Still a bit nervous, I am."
"Don't be! Every bird in the audience is gonna go bonkers over ye, Macca. Ah, ...May even have to let them all know that yer mine... right then and there." He leaned in and kissed me against the dresser.
"C'mon, lovebirds, it's showtime." Ringo announced from around the corner.
We nodded and followed Ringo on to the stage.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you... The Beatles!" The announced called out to the crowd as the lights shined directly onto the stage.
"Oh yeah, I tell you somethin', I think you'll understand.
When I say that somethin', I want to hold your hand!
I want to hold your hand. I want to hold your hand.
Oh please, say to me, you'll let me be your man. And please say to me, you'll let me hold your hand!
Now, let me hold your hand, I want to hold your hand.
And when I touch you, I feel happy inside.
It's such a feelin' that my love,
I can't hide,
I can't hide,
I can't hide!
Yeah, you got that somethin', I think you'll understand.
When I say that somethin', I want to hold your hand!
I want to hold your hand I want to hold your hand!
And when I touch you, I feel happy inside
It's such a feelin' that my love,
I can't hide,
I can't hide,
I can't hide!
"Yeah, you got that somethin', I think you'll understand. When I feel that somethin',
I want to hold your hand,
I want to hold your hand,
I want to hold your hand,
I want to hold your hand!"
The crowd was going wild, I tell you! Girls screaming so loudly I couldn't even hear myself singing. I casually shot looks at John as he sang like a bird into the mic next to the one George and I were occupying. He looked back at me every so often and continued to bob up and down on his feet.
The show was over, meaning it was time to get a few drinks in me. Tradition is tradition, after all. We headed down to the local saloon and ordered all we could afford.
John lifted his glass, "Cheers to The Beatles!" He cheered, followed by all of us clanking our cups together.
"Soon 'nuff the Beatles are gonna take over this here country." Ringo hiccuped, "We be at the top of our game, yeah?"
We laughed and joked as we sat around the old bar table. John was sat next to me while George and Ringo sat across from us.
Everything was going pretty smoothly until I noticed a familiar face in the crowd.
I examined the person until I was finally able to recognize her in my drunken daze.
"Linda!" I shouted out, waving my hand frantically.
"Linda?" John asked looking over to where I was waving, contorting his face into a confused expression. "Linda who?"
"No way, Paul? Paul McCartney?!" She skipped over to our table, "Jeez, it's been a long time since I've seen ye... back in Hamburg."
"How've ye been?" I asked.
John furrowed his brows as he studied the blonde lady.
"Pretty well, overall. How about yourself?" She asked, helping herself to a barstool next to our table.
"I've been good, thing's have been gettin' better for us. Jus played the Ed Sullivan show, ye know?" I smirked, taking a sip from my glass.
"So I've heard! Lots of people have been talking about you guys... All around the globe." She smiled.
"It's swell to see ye once again after so long..." I pointed out.
John pursed his lips and looked down at his legs beneath the table.
"Agreed, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you." She flirted casually.
John sat down his glass of gin aggressively and glared up at the bird.
My eyes widened a bit but I shook it off, surely Linda didn't mean much by that comment.
"But anyways, how can I reach you? Just so we don't lose contact yet again." She asked kindly.
"Hold on," I took a pen out of my pocket and jotted my number down on a damp napkin. "Ere ye go."
As I jotted the digits down, John kept his eyes on me the entire time with a slight pout.
"Thanks!" She grinned widely.
I returned a smile back to the girl... and then I felt a new sensation.
A hand. Slowly migrating towards my-
"Stop that, John!" I tried to whisper under my breath, but I guess it came out a bit louder than I anticipated.
"...Everything alright?" Linda asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"He's fine." John replied with a smirk.
John didn't stop, though. He continued to rub my inner thigh, causing me to get a semi, right there in the saloon under the table.
"Y- Yer an easy g- git, yenno th- that?" John whispered with slurred words, ensuring no one else could hear.
I took in a deep breath in order to keep my feelings of arousal contained.
"Maybe one of these nights we can grab a cup of tea down the street from here." She sipped from a glass of coke and rum. "How long are you staying?"
My voice hitched slightly as John groped me completely, "Tw- Two more days."
"Great! Can't wait! I'll give you a call when I can." She waved away and headed towards the exit.
I slapped John's hand away, "What was that for?"
"Jus love messin' wi' ye, Macca." John smirked, returning to his drink. "Thas all."
It was overtly clear to me that John was becoming pretty intoxicated at this point.
"Yeah well, thanks to ye, I've got no idea what I've jus agreed to." I rolled my eyes. "Couldn't focus."
"Hm, wonder why." John said in a smug tone.
"Gettin' a cup o' tea wi' Linda." George reiterated. "Sometime this weekend, I reckon."
I stared blankly at the floor, realizing why John did what he just did.
Oh, boy.
Jealousy.