With The Beatles

Take 4

GEORGE's P.O.V.

"Hi George, have you finished the song?" Jude immediately asks as she entered the house. She placed her bag on the sofa and sits beside me. Since Ringo is sleeping at the other side.

"Y'know, I don't believe what people labelled you to be. John and Paul said in an interview that you're the one who talks the most when it comes to conversing about girls and music."

I gave her a stern look, "You wouldn't like it if I speak." She furrows her eyebrows. "And it's absolutely none of your business on who's being labelled and what not."

"Aye, but none of your five bar gate jumps in over sorts of stuff."

What? "What's that suppose to mean?"

Jude smiles cheekily, "I don't know, I just thought it sounded distinguished-like."

Not understanding what she's trying to say, I diverted my attention back to the guitar. Maybe it's some alien language here in the future, doesn't matter now.

"By the way, I envy your metabolism. You get to eat whatever you want without the fear of getting fat." I quickly responded with, "Nah, John's the fat Beatle."

"Just get on with the point, will ya? I'm tryna focus here." I tried to shoo her away. Instead of standing up and obeying my request, she brings out what she calls a cellphone.

She makes a few clicks until I realized she's making me face the mirror on the phone. "This is a selfie. It's how you take photos when you want to see yourself." Jude shows me. "Look."

The phone shows a picture of the two of us just a little while ago. While Jude was smiling brightly, I was there with a curious expression, holding my guitar.

"C'mon, George, smile for the camera." I almost blushed at her command. Like she said, I may be the most talkative, but I'm still the most shy person in front of a camera.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that thin line. Spread your lips and show your teeth."

Doesn't this girl know-

"I know you're insecured about your teeth but I don't care. I want to see you smile on the photo with me."

Stubborn me still chose not to smile. Disappointed, Jude turns her phone off then stood up. "I'm going to D'Oldies. I'll be back before sunset. Can't wait to hear that song of yours." Then she winks before slamming the door close. No doubt her favourite is Paul.

"Hey George, did Jude come by?" Speaking of the devil. Paul comes out of the bedroom with a book in his hand. I nodded in response and returned to my guitar.

"You should see this book, it's titled Harry Potter. Jude has a whole shelf full of them." Paul says, amazement in his tone. Well, ever since we got here he's the one who gets astonished over the new stuff we don't have in the 60's.

I sighed, "You know I'm not fond of reading." Paul shrugs, "Me neither. But it's all about magic and wizards and all that. Imma recommend this to John once he wakes up."

Paul went back inside the room while I thought, "Seems like no one's interested with the song I wrote."

I grabbed a lighter and lit up a stick. Good thing the guitar comes along with some boxes of woodbines. It also brought the chords that I was composing a few days before we got here. I never had the liberty to show John and Paul. After all the good music they made, it seems discomfiting if I suddenly barge in and bring a song to record.

I stared at the piece of paper I worked on all week with the title, Don't Bother Me. I have to say I may have wrote this song to practise my songwriting skills. But for some reason, I felt pressure to impress the others.