May 26, 1964
John was laying on the floor, asleep. Pattie and George were up at the front of the plane doing God-knows-what. We'd all gone out last night for just a few drinks...that slowly turned into a lot of drinks. I was sure I was the only one that wasn't painfully hungover, but just because I hadn't had nearly as much as John and George didn't mean that I was completely off the hook. Now, we were on the way to Los Angeles, from which we'd catch a flight to London.
I was laying down across two seats on the plane, trying to fall asleep, but failing miserably. When I heard John stir awake from his spot on the floor, I sat up.
"Hey, love," he said with a tired smile. I moved to where I was sitting down on the ground next to him. "No, c'mere," he whined, stretching his arms out towards me.
I giggled and laid down next to him. It was mildly cramped, but neither of us minded. It was cozy enough just being close together.
"Did you have a nice time on the trip?" he asked me quietly.
"I believe you've already asked me this," I replied jokingly.
"Well, then you shouldn't have any trouble answering it, should you?" He chuckled.
"Of course I had a good time." I smiled to myself, knowing he couldn't see me. "What a silly question."
"Dunno," he said. "Sometimes you just need the reassurance."
"I guess you do," I agreed.
"Don't tell me you never need just a little reassurance, Donna." John fumbled around with my hand, looking at the engagement ring I had on again. I looked up to see him smiling.
"You've been with me for almost three years. How many times have you had to repeat yourself?"
He laughed. "That's a fair point. You're a bit of a handful," he teased.
"Sorry 'bout that."
Before he could respond, George interrupted us. "You two are like some couple out of a movie. You should write about that, Donna." His voice was groggy, like he'd just woken up from sleeping or perhaps it was just a side-effect of the hangover he was in the middle of. Who really knew.
"Thanks for the suggestion, George. I'll take it into consideration," I said.
"When're we landing?" he asked.
John sat my hand down tenderly and lifted his hand up so he could look at his watch. "Hmm," he hummed. "Should be soo—."
He was interrupted by someone coming into the room.
"We're about to land," said a stewardess. "You'll need to get in your seats." Whenever she saw me, she didn't seem very nice. I guess I should be used to dirty looks by now. Not many people were thrilled that John was taken. Wait until they heard the news. They'll be thrilled, won't they?
John and I stood up and sat down in our seats sheepishly, pulling the seatbelts around us. The stewardess stood next to the door, looking down at her feet. No one said anything. I folded my hands in my lap, fiddling with one of the buttons on the mac I'd stolen from John before we'd taken off.
Finally, the stewardess broke off into her normal spiel as the plane began to descend towards the ground.
"Hollywood," John whispered, leaning in close to my ear. "We've arrived."
"That we have," I said, smiling up at him.
The stewardess continued to talk, her voice hitching every now and then. I looked up to her discreetly to see her wearing a stiff grimace. Sometimes I just wished we could be normal. I wasn't even sure if I could remember what normal meant anyways. The feeling of the plane touching down on the ground made me queasy.
When we were finally on the ground, I had never been more desperate to get off of something in my entire life. The four of us stood up and reached overhead to get our bags. There was a small crowd outside of the plane, as was expected.
John and I went up to where George and Pattie were waiting for us to join them. I already had the familiar feeling of dread and it annoyed me. I was hoping I could make it out of here like a normal person. John kept his hand in mine, holding on tight.
"Everything alright?" he asked me. "You've gone all pale on me, love."
"Me?" I asked, turning to him, feeling a wild look come onto my face. "Of course I'm fine."
John moved his arm so that it was looped through mine and keeping me steady. When we went to step out the door, George had a look of irritation on his face as he talked to a reporter who was practically shoving a microphone down his throat.
Of course, our lovely stewardess wasn't letting us go without some petty movement. Immediately before we made it out the door, she moved her foot out just enough to trip me. John managed to catch me, but he looked everything but thrilled. No matter how discreet she tried to be, it didn't go unnoticed.
John gave her a stiff, sarcastic, and cold smile before he helped lead me down the stairs. Before he completely turned away, however, he somehow managed to kick her foot out from under her and she stumbled a bit before regaining her composure. I smiled at her innocently, trying to pretend like my heart wasn't beating a hundred miles an hour and like my stomach wasn't churning uncomfortably.
"Jealousy," said John, leaning down to whisper it in my ear. "Makes people do crazy things, doesn't it?"
I nodded vaguely. "Sure does," I mumbled.
"Alright?" John asked me again.
I shook my head. "I feel a little ill," I admitted.
He wrapped his arm around my waist. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"John, why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything." I mustered up a smile.
"I might as well have."
"John, don't blame yourself for anything, please. That'll just make me feel worse," I begged.
We finally made it into the building and away from the crowds. I no longer had the courage to open my mouth, fearing I might throw up.
"Bathroom?" asked George, catching my eye and recognizing the expression on my face. I nodded and John's arm dropped from around my waist as I hurried off towards a bathroom sign hanging above an entryway.