Yes I cut Cyn and Julian out of the picture I'm sorry😳😳😳
April 8, 1964
I was pretty tired. I'd had a pretty restless night as the strangeness I'd felt all yesterday wore off. I couldn't find it in me to be mopey, however, because today was finally the day we were getting out of this flat. It was like a dream come true.
The boys finally had another day off, so we shamelessly slept in an hour or so. When the time came, though, we did get up, and very quickly.
My eyes had fluttered open when I'd felt John's soft lips on the back of my neck. I had shifted a bit to get myself fully awake before I rolled over to smile at him.
"Today's the day," he'd said before placing his lips firmly on mine.
We'd gotten up and gone down the road to the same bakery we always went to to get some breakfast before beginning our work. We had employed all four of the other boys and their girlfriends to help us. Everything was already boxed up, so all we needed was the help moving it.
"I hope you got us some of that food," George said expectantly when we got back to the flat. Everyone was already gathered up, chatting.
"No, George, we got two bags just for us two. Come here," said John, extending a bag out towards the six of them. George took it eagerly.
"This will cover about half of my work," said Paul thoughtfully. "I'll need more."
"How about we feed you lunch too?" John asked jokingly.
"It's a done deal," said Paul, taking a pastry out of the bag and falling back onto the couch.
"This is like gathering up a search party," quipped Ringo, handing a piece of food to Maureen next to him. "I'm kinda living for it."
"Ah, yes," said John, taking a bite of his own breakfast. "A search for the perfect life."
"Yes, that's it!" said Paul. "Now we just need the queen here to talk. Donna? You alive?"
"I'm alive," I said. "Just listening to the children bicker," I mocked.
"She's getting in her practice while she still can," he quipped. I glared at him.
"Maybe we should get started before Donna kills Paul," said George.
"I know you're all anxiously awaiting the day that happens, aren't you?" I asked with a fake smile.
"Snappy today, are we?" asked Ringo teasingly.
"Just quick-witted, as she needs to be with you all," John answered. "We can get this in two trips at least if you guys listen closely," John said, going off into his intricately-designed plan as I sat down in front of the coffee table to finish eating.
~~~
"Good job, George!" Paul clapped his hands sarcastically as George and John finished putting up some curtains in the kitchen.
"Hey," snapped John. "What about me?"
"I don't have to tell you good job, Johnny," Paul quipped.
"Mhm," said John. "We should stop for today," he said, glancing around at all the work we'd accomplished.
"Need some alone time?" asked Paul mockingly.
"No, no, stay," said John. "Let's go downstairs and play for a while. It's been a while."
The others shrugged. "Why not?"
John jumped down from where he was standing on the counter, George followed close by. We all followed him as we went down to where we'd set up a bunch of guitars and keyboards downstairs. The other girls and I sat down at the bottom of the stairs as they all picked up various different instruments. Ringo even managed to find some bongos in the mess of everything.
John sat down at a piano in the corner. "What was that song we just did?" he asked. "I should have known better with a girl like you / That I would love everything that you do / And I do, hey, hey, hey, and I do." He turned around and smiled, satisfied that he'd picked up on it.
"John, have you got a cord?" George asked, having found a guitar and an amplifier, but no cord to go along with it.
John looked around, his fingers falling away from the keys. He pointed to a box in the corner of the room. "There," he said.
George and Paul shuffled over and took some cords out, hooking their guitars up to the amplifiers eagerly.
"Hey, John, have you worked any on the title song?" asked Paul.
John thought a moment. "I was thinking a little like this...." he turned to the piano and began to surf through some chords before beginning. "It's been a hard day's night / And I've been working like a dog," he sang inquisitively, bending to fit his vocals with the chords. "Something like that maybe? Got anything else, Paul?"
Paul thought a moment. I'd had the privilege of watching Paul and John write songs together. I'd been there when they wrote probably half of the songs they had in the charts right now. This was always how it went. They'd come up with something, then pass it to the other.
"It's been a hard day's night / I could be..." John trailer off, thinking. George picked up on the chords and began to strum with John. Ringo started a little drum beat on his bongos. Then, John slammed on a chord and stopped. The others halted. The chord hung in the air a moment, then he looked curiously back at the piano, positioning his hands back over and hitting it again.
"That's brilliant," said Paul.
"What chord's that, John?" asked George.
"I—." John thought a moment. "I have no clue. Try—uh—a—." He hit it again. "Try a G maybe? G7?"
They hit it together. It sounded like it fit. "Paul, play an Fadd9," John said.
It was fascinating to watch. They were piecing together a song right in front of me. I could tell the other girls were mesmerized. They seemed to forget we were sitting here. They were simply losing themselves in the music.
"Donna?" John asked and I was brought back to earth.
"Yes?"
"Can you get me a marker? I need to remember this." That's when I noticed that his hands hadn't moved from the keys.
"Oh, yes," I said, standing up and passing by Maureen and Pattie to go back upstairs. There was one in my purse that we'd been using to label boxes earlier, so I took it and brought it back downstairs.
"Make a little mark on all these keys," John said, and so I did. "Thank ye, love," he said, placing a quick kiss on my cheek before playing with the keys. "It's been a hard day's night / And I've been working like a dog." The other began to join back in.
"It's been a hard days night / I could be..." He thought again. "I cou—should be sleeping like a...what the hell am I sleeping like?" he asked the other three desperately.
"A log!" shouted George tentatively.
"Yes! A fucking log! Thanks, Geo," said John with an excitedly childish look. "It's been a hard day's night / I could—should be sleeping like a log." He abruptly stopped playing and reached for the closest piece of paper to him, taking the marker I'd left next to him and jotting the lines down.
I was watching history before my eyes.
~~~
Dissecting the A Hard Day's Night opening chord stressed me out😭😂.